Is OLIVIER: The Life Of Laurence Olivier Based On True Events?

"No offense but you are always so grumpy, it's actually kind of cute." I bluntly say to him and watch him throw me a nasty glare, I just giggle at that. "I'm not." he defends himself in a calm yet stern voice keeping his face emotionless. "sure." I find myself saying sarcastically. I think I'm too drunk  because there is no way a sober River will have the courage to hold a conversation with a very grumpy Killian. I expect another scary glare to come towards me but instead I meet with a soft gaze that stares at me with an unreadable expression. "I'm not." This time he says softly, I see him biting back a small smile and , he smiles. I've never seen him smiling before, not this way. Standing on the edge of life, River breathes in and lets himself adjust into a new life, into a new family. After a horrifying past he finds his life wrapped around a shaggy orphanage and several foster homes which makes it hard to believe that he is actually being adopted. Having a family was always a desire of him but to his burnt luck, he doesn't feel like he belongs in his adoptive family. Everyone and everything around him make it clear that he wasn't born to be happy. River is waiting for another push, one last push to end it all and fall from the edge and that's when a grumpy looking Killian Price steps into his life. River can't decide if Killian is the saviour or the devil himself. River's life meets with unexpected secrets mixed with burning desire, adorning the melancholic attire. Soon, he finds out he isn't the only one standing on the edge of the cliff, or he realises he is far from the edge.

Tyrell has always been one for being on his own. He meet someone and then he realises how much love has to offer.

My boyfriend was a therapist. On the day I got diagnosed with ALS, he was busy celebrating his friend's birthday. He said, "Sophie's got depression. Without me, she could break down, hurt herself, or do worse things." To look after her, he broke up with me and moved into her place. I blocked him on everything, agreeing we'd go our separate ways. Strangely, he lost his nuts when he found out I was dying.

To prevent me from being jealous of my stepmother's son, my dad implemented a "family point system". Washing dishes earned 1 point, and getting a perfect score on a test earned 10 points. Accumulating 1000 points meant you could make a wish come true. When my stepbrother broke a vase, Dad said it was a sign of good luck and awarded him 50 points. When I insisted on going to school with a fever, Dad said I was trying to garner sympathy and deducted 100 points. I scrambled to scrape together every point I could, all for that exorbitant Math Olympiad registration form. On the day I finally accumulated enough points, my stepbrother cried and said he wanted a pair of limited-edition sneakers. Dad immediately emptied my points. "We're family. Your points are your brother's points too." I looked at the torn-up application form and jumped from the 18th-floor balcony.

I had been married for five years, but my belly remained flat—no sign of a child. Then, on my 35th birthday, I suddenly found out I was pregnant. When I shared the good news with my husband, he flew into a rage. Instead of being happy, he accused me of carrying someone else's baby. Only then did I learn he had a mistress. He even claimed he wanted a "real" child—one that truly belonged to him—with her. I thought he was just being irrational and would eventually come to his senses. After getting an amniocentesis, I immediately brought him the paternity test results to prove the baby was his. He came home acting like a changed man—hugging me, kissing me, claiming that he didn't cheat on me. The very next day, he booked a hotel and threw a banquet, announcing to all our friends and family that he was going to be a father. However, when his mistress saw the news, she completely lost it. She showed up with a group of people, blocked me in the street, and—despite my pregnancy—started punching and kicking me. "You shameless woman! How dare you carry my man's child? Are you that desperate to die?"

My husband, a lawyer, tells his true love to deny that she wrongly administered an IV and insist that her patient passed away due to a heart attack. He also instructs her to immediately cremate the patient. He does all of this to protect her. Not only does Marie Harding not have to spend a day behind bars, but she doesn't even have to compensate the patient. Once the dust has settled, my husband celebrates with her and congratulates her now that she's free of an annoying patient. What he doesn't know is that I'm that patient. I've died with his baby in my belly.