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12. Off the Set

مؤلف: Babzie
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-07-21 14:33:23

INDIGO

By the time we reached Madison Square Garden, New York had transformed into an entirely different city from the one I’d glimpsed through the shuttle window that afternoon. The streets pulsed with energy—pedestrians hurrying beneath the glow of towering signs, taxis cutting sharp paths through traffic, and crowds flowing with the kind of purpose that made the whole place feel alive. The arena loomed against the night sky, already surrounded by thousands of fans in jerseys, waving banners
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  • My Cousin's Fiancé, My Ruin   16. It Takes a Village II

    INDIGOMum studied me through the screen for a long moment.“A baby shower with only three people?”I nodded. “Three.”I turned the phone slowly, giving her a full view of the living room: the white balloons swaying near the ceiling, the untouched platters of food, the rows of empty chairs, and the cake sitting patiently under its clear dome. Then I turned the camera back to my face.“Cathy’s in there with her sister, Frances. They’ve been trying to hold it together, but they’re hurting.” I swallowed hard. “I can’t just let the night end like this.”Mum’s expression softened at once. “Oh, honey.”“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.She adjusted her glasses, thinking. “Add Leah to the call.”I tapped the screen and sent the invitation. It rang several times with no answer.“She’s not picking up,” I said. “I thought maybe you’d know the right words to say.”Mum was quiet for a beat, then smiled gently. “Fill the room, Indie.”I blinked. “What?”“Fill the room,” she repeated, as if it

  • My Cousin's Fiancé, My Ruin   15. It Takes a Village I

    INDIGOMy alarm pulled me from sleep at 6:00 p.m. I lay there for a moment, blinking at the ceiling, letting the pieces of the day settle around me. Los Angeles. Home. My suitcase still stood beside the wardrobe where I had abandoned it after getting home this morning.The whirlwind of New York—the game, the lights, the noise—felt like something from another life.Today wasn’t about me or yesterday’s disappointments. Today belonged to Cathy.With a groan, I forced myself upright. My body protested immediately. My neck was stiff from sleeping at the wrong angle, my legs still ached from yesterday’s endless walking around Manhattan, and judging by the heaviness behind my eyes, I’d slept barely six hours.Jet lag was rude.I shuffled toward the bathroom, splashed cold water over my face, and stared at my reflection.“You look terrible.”The woman staring back didn’t argue.After a long shower and far too much concealer, I looked… less like someone who’d been emotionally steamrolled on na

  • My Cousin's Fiancé, My Ruin   14. Professional Standards

    DARIOThe hotel lobby smelled of fresh coffee and polished marble.By seven-thirty, the production team had assembled with their luggage lined up neatly. A few faces showed the wear of a late night, but most were already reviewing notes or talking through next week’s assignments. That was exactly how I preferred it. Work didn’t stop when the cameras went dark. Discipline kept the machine running smoothly.I checked my watch again. “Where’s Ms. Derrin?”Rico glanced toward the elevators. “She’ll be down any minute.”I made a brief note on my tablet and waited. Three minutes later the doors opened and Indigo stepped out, pulling a small cream suitcase behind her. The eager spark she had carried the day before was nowhere to be seen. She wore dark jeans, brown flats, and a navy sweater beneath a beige trench coat. Her dark red hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, though a few stubborn curls had escaped around her face. She looked tired. Faint shadows lingered under her eyes.Good. A

  • My Cousin's Fiancé, My Ruin   13. One Bad Night

    INDIGOBy the time I reached the hotel, my eyes burned from the effort of holding back tears. The second the door clicked shut behind me, the last of my composure crumbled. I dropped my bag on the armchair, kicked off my boots, and sank onto the edge of the bed, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes.What was I thinking? I replayed the moment on the monitors again and again, wishing I could rewrite it. The player had looked seriously hurt. I’d spoken without thinking. One careless sentence had forced a live correction that millions of people had probably watched. Dario had to issue the correction, and I’d been sent packing before the second period even ended.I stood up and dragged my suitcase onto the bed. Packing now would at least give my hands something to do. Blazer. Jeans. The sweater Leah had insisted I bring because “New York doesn’t care if you’re from Los Angeles.” A watery laugh slipped out, followed by another tear.I stared at the half-packed suitcase for a long

  • My Cousin's Fiancé, My Ruin   12. Off the Set

    INDIGOBy the time we reached Madison Square Garden, New York had transformed into an entirely different city from the one I’d glimpsed through the shuttle window that afternoon. The streets pulsed with energy—pedestrians hurrying beneath the glow of towering signs, taxis cutting sharp paths through traffic, and crowds flowing with the kind of purpose that made the whole place feel alive. The arena loomed against the night sky, already surrounded by thousands of fans in jerseys, waving banners and chanting even before the puck dropped.I stared up at it a moment too long.This was it. A real NHL game. A real assignment. And somehow I was standing inside one of the most legendary arenas in the world as part of the team covering it.“You’re doing it again.”I glanced down to find Rico watching me with an amused grin.“Doing what?”He pointed at my chest. My fingers had found their way to my FanHub credential again, clutching it like a talisman.I let go immediately. “I’m not.”“You are,

  • My Cousin's Fiancé, My Ruin   11. Working Vacation?

    DARIOBy the time we cleared baggage claim at JFK, I already regretted dragging half the production team to New York.Work trips had a way of turning professionals into tourists the second they smelled jet fuel and overpriced coffee.The moment we stepped outside, Rico stretched like a man released from prison. “God, I’ve missed this city.”“You were here three weeks ago,” I reminded him.“Exactly,” he said without shame. “Far too long.”The shuttle arrived, swallowed our gear, and we piled in. I took the front seat out of habit—quietest spot on any bus. Or so I thought.Laughter rolled forward before we even left the curb.I didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to.Indigo.She’d claimed a window seat in the middle, her phone pressed to the glass like the city was putting on a private show just for her. Every few seconds she pointed at something new, firing questions before the last answer finished.“Is that the Queensboro Bridge?”“Nah,” Rico laughed. “Wrong bridge.”“O

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