His Star

　　"Ah... please... slow down..."

　　At the premiere of the movie "Gone Love," a sex tape pops up on the big screen, showing a woman underneath a man instead of the movie trailer.

　　"Jesus, isnt that Elena, the star of the movie?"

　　In the video, Elena is in a black see-through nightgown. She is bending over on the hotel bed, with her full back exposed. Her head is turned aside, revealing her glazed eyes and scarlet face. Her mouth is panting seductively.

　　A pair of large hands tightly grip Elenas slender waist. The man, fully clothed in a suit and with his face obscured in the tape, is using her.

　　"Who is that man?” 

　　"They said that she got the part because she slept with the director; could that be true?"

　　The press conference is full of paparazzi. Now that such shocking news comes out, all of them spring to their feet and rush toward the pale woman on the stage like a swarm of flies.

　　Elenas legs feel like jelly. She leans against the wall, covered in cold sweat, and uses every ounce of her willpower to remain upright.

　　How did her sex video with Nicholas suddenly get out?

　　Who did it?

　　"Elena, is that you in that sex tape?"

　　Paparazzi thrust the microphone in her face and bombarded her with a barrage of questions.

　　"Who is that man?"

　　"How many times have you sold your body to get a role?"

　　"Why would you make your sex tape public at the movie premiere?"

　　"Is it for the movie or for you?"

　　"I didnt!" Elena instinctively wanted to escape.

　　But how could they let her go before they got the dirt? One of the bolder ones immediately grabs her arm firmly, like an iron.

　　"Elena, who is the man in that tape?

　　"You are so indecent in the tape, which is completely inconsistent with your innocent image. May I ask, which side is the real you? Are you deceiving your fans?"

　　"I didnt!" Elena pushed back the paparazzi, "Get out of my way. Let me go!"

　　"Elena, please answer our questions."

　　Those paparazzi blocked the way, pushing and pulling, and Elena, who was in the middle, couldnt stand still and fell heavily to the ground.

　　But they still wont let her go.

　　"Get out of my way!" Elenas brain went blank as she lost control.

　　She waved her hands frantically to fend them off.

　　The scene is chaotic. One of the men unknowingly bumps into a large billboard on the side. The billboard wobbles and crashes down with a squeak.

　　"Look out!"

　　The paparazzi scattered in a hurry, while Elena, who had fallen in the middle of the crowd, was unable to dodge and was hit hard by the heavy billboard.

　　"Ah!"

　　Only then did the security guards finally arrive and hastily drive away those paparazzi. They picked up Elena and quickly brought her to the lounge.

　　Blood streaks down Elenas face.

　　She hasnt recovered from the shock and sits in the lounge, shaking, with blood still on her face.

　　Footsteps stomp outside the doorway once again; this time, its the director.

　　"Elena!" The director came forward and slapped her hard across the face.

　　"Look what youve done!"

　　"You ruined my movie!"

　　Elena quickly said, "Mr. Anderson, Im sorry. Ill make up for it..."

　　However, the director pushes her away, and Elena falls to the ground again, her knees scraping against the floor.

　　"No amount of money will be enough to pay for this! Youd better find a good lawyer!"

　　The director slammed the door and left, taking all the security guards with him.

　　Without the security guards guarding the door, those paparazzi will soon besiege her again and ask questions until they overwhelm her.

　　Elena is so scared that she pulls out her phone, shaking, and calls her only source of support—her husband, whom she has been married to for a year.

　　"Nicholas, I..."

　　"Elena, happy birthday." Nicholass timbre voice carried a hint of pleasure: "Did you receive the surprise I sent you?"

　　"What?" Elena couldnt think straight.

　　Nicholass laughter comes from the other end of the phone: "That little episode during your film release, do you like it?"

　　Elena stiffened. She cant believe it.

　　On the other end of the phone, her husbands voice turns cold, and his words slice through the air like knives: "Elena, this is only the beginning."