Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband
Chapter 63: The Similar Pain!

Chapter 63: The Similar Pain!

Claire’s POV

I laid down on the stage after taking a deep breath as I was ready to perfect my role. Acting as a sick person when you were perfectly fine wasn’t easy, but I coughed softly, trying to look weak and frail. I shifted my posture, letting my limbs go limp and my expression slack. Slowly, I began to immerse myself in the role.

But the producer suddenly slammed the desk in front of him, and the sharp sound echoed through the room. His glare was fierce as he growled, "Is that how you are going to act?!"

I jerked upright and quickly rose to my feet. My heart pounded as I tried to figure out what I had done wrong to make him this angry. The hostility was clearly etched into his features.

"Yes," Damian spoke up as his piercing gaze was fixed on me. "Mr. Ralph is absolutely right. You are too good to be stuck in such a minor role!" He said as Evander glared at him as if he had something to say but stopped himself for some reason.

What? I blinked in confusion. Where was this coming from? I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or sarcastic, but instead of jumping to conclusions, I decided it was better to wait and see where he was going with this.

Damian gestured toward my script as his voice softened slightly, but his intensity remained the same. "Look at Act 2," he said, tapping the pages for emphasis. "The scene where the second female lead is heartbroken because her ex-boyfriend cheated on her— or at least, she believed he did. When they meet again years later, they are both wrestling with a lot of emotional turmoil."

He paused, scanning my face as though gauging my reaction. "That’s the moment where the audience needs to feel every ounce of her pain and confusion. Her anger, her vulnerability—everything."

I flipped through the pages of my script to the part he mentioned, the lines blurring slightly under my gaze. My chest tightened as I read the dialogue. I could already sense how challenging and raw that scene would be to portray. However, it felt as if someone had written the story of my life in these few pages.

"You see," Damian continued, his voice firm now, "this role isn’t just about delivering lines. It’s about living in that moment, making everyone watching believe it’s real. And I think you can do that better than anyone."

What he said felt as if he had a lot of confidence in me. He wasn’t angry with me; he was pushing me, believing in me in a way I hadn’t expected.

"Do you think you can handle it?" he asked, his tone both challenging and encouraging.

I looked up from the script, meeting his intense gaze. My heart was still racing, but now it wasn’t from fear. "Yes," I said quietly, but with growing conviction. "I can do it."

It wasn’t like I had to work hard for this. I had been through the exact same experience in real life, and it was more than easy for me to act it out. The emotions, the pain, the betrayal— they were already etched into my soul.

What made this role even easier was that the source of my heartache—the one responsible— was sitting right in front of me. I didn’t have to pretend or dig deep for the right emotions; they were right there, raw and ready.

But a thought nagged at me. Should I even be auditioning for this role? This wasn’t why I came here. I had a different goal, and taking on this character felt like reopening old wounds I had tried so hard to forget.

Still, it wasn’t really my choice. Mr. Strome had insisted, and he wasn’t the kind of man you could refuse.

I sighed and looked down at the script. The words seemed to mock me, daring me to step into a character that felt all too familiar. Maybe this was some cruel twist of fate, or maybe it was a chance to finally face the past I’d been running from.

The room was silent, everyone waiting. I clenched my fists and forced myself to focus. If I was going to do this, I would give it my all. After all, who could bring more life to this role than someone who had lived it?

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. "Alright, let’s do this," I whispered, preparing to dive into the role. Before starting, I took a moment to read over the lines, trying to keep them to my memory. Thankfully, my memory was sharp, and I could pick things up quickly.

I closed my eyes, letting the emotions settle in, then sank to my knees, feeling the character’s pain wash over me.

"Joseph!" I cried, my voice breaking as I began. "I loved you. You were the only man I ever truly loved, but you... you betrayed me. You left me, left us, abandoned everything we had just because of her? Was our love so weak, so easy to throw away?"

I covered my face with my hands, letting my shoulders shake as tears slowly spilled down my cheeks. It was painful to let this pain resurface, but I knew I had to give it my all.

"And now," I continued, my voice trembling with anger and despair, "when I am finally trying to move on, to rebuild my life— you come back, trying to pull me back into your chaos? Why can’t you just let me go? Why won’t you let me find my peace?"

The room was silent, every eye fixed on me as I poured myself into the scene. My heart raced, the emotions so intense it felt like I was speaking my own truth. But that was what this role demanded.

I was still engrossed in the role and was imagining a figure in front of me when I felt someone’s presence and...

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