My stomach tightens.
"There's no way she's running her own production a year or two removed from being a star on a kid's network without some kind of special favor," the first guy adds, his tone smug.
"What're you gonna do? It's how this industry is. All who you know. Or blow, I guess, in her case."
Laughter. Casual, thoughtless.
They have no idea I'm sitting here, mortified, listening to their assessment of my credibility—not based on my talent, not on my experience, but on the fact that I'm a woman.
A woman who happens to be sleeping with the man financing the film.
A woman who, apparently, couldn't possibly have earned this on her own.
I open my mouth, but before I can speak, a sharp voice slices through the air like a blade.
"Excuse me?"
The laughter cuts off instantly.
Edie steps forward, her expression cold enough to freeze them in place. "You think this is some boys' club where you get to run your mouths about my lead? About a producer on this project?" She takes another step, and her voice lowers to something even more dangerous. "On my set?"
One of them stammers, "We were just?—"
"Just being misogynistic, sexist assholes?" she finishes for him. "Let me make this real simple. If I hear either of you say anything like that again anywhere near this set, you're gone. I don't care how long you've been in the industry. I don't care who you've worked with. You do not get to discredit a woman's work because it makes you feel better about your own lack of relevance."
Their faces are flushed now with anger, shame, and embarrassment at being caught.
Edie folds her arms. "So, unless you'd rather be looking for a new job, I suggest you get back to work. And keep your mouths shut unless it's about the scene blocking."
They mumble something—an apology, maybe, or just apitiful excuse—before grabbing their gear and hurrying off, suddenly very invested in their work.
I exhale; the tension is coiled so tightly in my chest that it almost hurts to release.
"You ok?" Edie asks, her voice softer now.
I force a nod, but I can still feel the words clinging to my skin like something sticky and foul.
"I'll be fine." I lift my chin, looking toward where the guys disappeared. "You and I both know this isn't the first or last time I'll hear things like that."
Edie's jaw tightens. "No, but that doesn't mean we let it slide."
She's right.
If I were a man, I wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit.
"You're right. Thank you for speaking up. I truly appreciate this opportunity and everything you are doing for this film."
"Anytime, Sophia." I give her a hug, but before I can pull away, she steadies me by my shoulders. "All this. You did this. It's not because of some man. You're talented, and Grant saw that. Whatever else happened after is your business, but do not let it diminish all the hard work you've put into this. You deserve this."
I hug Edie again, blinking away the tears that have formed. She's right. I did earn this. I'm used to critics, and hearing what the crew thinks is nothing new. I just can't buy into it.
I head over to the back corner of the sound stage to my makeshift office. After I stare at the wall for fifteen minutes, I realize I'm not going to get anything done untilI talk to Grant. In fact, I haven't heard from him all day. I'm not sure what's going on. Maybe he's changed his mind about us. Maybe there's another actress he's got his eye on.
Ok, I've got to get out of my head. Besides, we need to talk because, apparently, I'm gossip fodder for the crew here, and the last thing either of us needs are headlines that insinuate what these guys are thinking. I'm with Edie. We've got something really special going with this film. It would be a shame to have it overshadowed by a scandal about the studio exec and his lead actress in the sheets together.
I pull out my phone.
Me
