bFreya’s /beyes widened in shock as she screamed, “You fucking bitch. What the hell are you doing here?b” /b

Skr shook off Freya’s hand and deliberately straightened her clothes. “Why can’t I be here? Didn’t you say you wanted to see me on stage? Now that I’m here, why this reaction?”

Freya was practically breathing fire. She red at Skr and shouted, “How the hell are you a judge? Weren’t you supposed to be a contestantb?/bb” /b

Skr rose to her feet. “Oh, sorry. I should’ve told you earlier. I didn’t get a contestant invitation, but they sent me one to be a judge instead.”

Freya’s eyes burned with fury as she shrieked, “You did this on purpose, you bitch. You’re just using your power for personal revenge. I’ll report you bright /bnow and drag your name through the mud.”

“Go ahead and report me,” Skr retorted. “But you kn

exactly where your design draft came from, don’t you?”

She was willing to give Freya a chance. After all, real talent deserved respect.

But seeing that patchwork of stolen ideas, Skr realized she was a hopeless case.

Freya didn’t deserve any respect.

She didn’t deserve to share the stage with true original creators.

Freya staggered as if struck, nearly passing out from sheer rage. “You… you… Fine, Skr. You just wait.”

“I’m busy,” Skr said. She put on her mask, pulled open the door, and walked out without a backward nce.

Freya stood rooted in ce, stomping her feet and cursing. She stamped so hard that a chunk of her stiletto snapped off.

She nearly lost her bnce and almost fell t.

Freya shrieked, “That fucking bitch. It’s all her fault.”

After her tirade, Freya limped back to her car in her broken stilettos and slunk home in humiliation.

Back home, Freya was seething with anger, determined to y the victim in front of Carlos and Yana.

She squeezed out a few tears, deliberately messed up her hair, and limped inside in her broken shoes, looking as pitiful as possible. “Mom, Dad… Victor?

You’re back?”

Victor gave a slight inod /iin response. “What happened to your shoes?”

“I’m fine,” Freya said, hiding her broken shoe behind her. “It was just an ident.”

Yana slightly furrowed her brows as she noticed Freya’s disheveled hair. “What happened to your hair? Did someone bully you?”

With tears streaming down her face, Freya said, her voice trembling, “No one bullied me. I just identally upset Skr. It’s all my fault.

“I shouldn’t have had a fight with her. I broke my own shoe. Skr had nothing to do with it.”

“A fight?” Carlos looked at them, curious. “What were you two fighting about?”

Freya said, “Skr was a judge bat /btoday’s designpetition, but she kept it a secret from me. When I found out, it really got bto /bmeb, /bbso /bbI /bbwent /bbto /bbtalk /bbto /b

her.

“Then, I don’t even know what I said that upset her. Right in front bof /beveryone, she eliminated my work from thepetitionb, /bband /bbwhen /bbI /btried bto /bbtalk /bto her afterward, she just ignored me.

bChapter /bb62 /b

“I bgot /bbso /bupset that I snapped the heel off my own shoe. It really wasn’t bher /bfault at all. She didn’t do anything to me. bThis /bwas all on me

b“/bbFreya/bb, /bis everything you said trueb?/bb” /bYana fixed her with a piercing gaze, as if trying to see right through her.

Freya covered her face, her shoulders shaking with exaggerated sobs. “Mom, please don’t be angry. Don’t me Skr, just me me, it’s all my facto

Adam checked the time and figured it was about time to meet Skr as promised, so he headed downstairs to wait for her.

AD

Comment