You Had Me, You Lost Me, You'll Never Find Me novel Chapter 27

Suddenly, a memory resurfaced. A prominent female director had once selected her for a leading role, absolutely convinced that Sylvia perfectly embodied the character. They had essentially finalized the agreement, only for the studio to abruptly cancel the contract right before signing, paying her a small termination fee as compensation.

The director had sounded genuinely regretful, offering a polite, "Such a shame. Hopefully, we can collaborate next time."

Forced to find a replacement, the director had settled for a virtually unknown actress from Sylvia's graduating class: Florence Talbot.

That show went on to become a massive cultural phenomenon. Florence skyrocketed to overnight fame, instantly gaining millions of followers and an avalanche of lucrative brand endorsements.

Riding that momentum, Florence secured two more leading roles, both of which were massive hits, cementing her status as an A-list superstar. Now, whenever she stepped onto a set, she arrived with an eight-person entourage of assistants, stylists, and bodyguards, all transported in a luxury RV provided by her agency.

Meanwhile, Sylvia was still grinding away at minor supporting roles, barely recognizable to audiences, and still sharing cramped communal dressing rooms with extras.

A single stolen opportunity had resulted in wildly divergent paths and entirely different destinies.

Sylvia had always blamed her own bad luck.

She hadn't held grudges against anyone. Instead, she had poured all her energy into honing her craft, desperate to seize whatever scrap of a chance came her way.

She refused to waste time agonizing over what had slipped through her fingers.

But now.

No one had told her that all her relentless effort was utterly pointless.

For the past three years, had he simply been watching her bleed herself dry trying to succeed, while secretly crushing her at every turn?

The coffee on the table had gone entirely cold. Even wrapping her hands around the mug offered no warmth. For a long moment, Sylvia's mind went blank. A sharp, suffocating wave of despair chewed at her heart.

Penelope slid a sleek business card across the table. "I know you're unrepresented right now. I'm leaving that garbage agency anyway. If you're willing, we can team up. I'll represent you."

"Why?" Sylvia asked, looking up.

"Let's just say I refuse to accept defeat," Penelope smiled, her red lips curving sharply.

Close enough that Penelope had confided her deepest crush to Sylvia, pouring out her teenage heart while Sylvia encouraged her to confess her feelings.

But everything changed after a class dinner. The night air was cool, and Penelope had spent the entire evening trying to orchestrate a moment with the boy. Out of nowhere, the guy walked straight past Penelope and confessed his love to Sylvia, declaring he had liked her for a long time.

From that exact second, the way Penelope looked at Sylvia turned to ice.

After that, the tension in their dorm was suffocating.

Sylvia tried to clear the air, but Penelope shut her out with cold indifference. They barely spoke, and it was obvious to everyone that the friendship was dead.

And then, seemingly overnight, Sylvia noticed Penelope had started mirroring her clothes, her makeup, and even her mannerisms.

Having someone publicly steal your entire identity was deeply unsettling.

Sylvia confronted her about it a few times, but Penelope only doubled down, making the imitation even more blatant.