Playing the Villainess, He Fell for Me

Director Miller chuckled happily. "Jennings, your acting is something else! You’ve got a real spark, better than some of the professionally trained ones!"

Joanna Kennedy had never gone to college, let alone systematically studied acting. This had all been exposed online a while ago, so it wasn’t a secret.

Hearing this, the female lead Shirley Shepherd, who was professionally trained, feigned a sigh of annoyance. "Director Miller, are you taking a jab at me, or at Mr. Lynch?"

Brian Lynch, Fullstar Entertainment’s current top male star and the male lead of this film, was tall, with a wild sort of handsomeness and deep-set features.

He waved a hand dismissively. "Hey, leave me out of it. Jojo and I are from the same company—our awesome acting skills are practically a company legacy."

"HAHAHAHA, right, right, I forgot you two were from the same company. Fine, go ahead and gang up on me then."

In just a few sentences, they had livened up the mood.

’There’s a reason Shirley Shepherd and Brian Lynch are so popular,’ Joanna Kennedy thought.

’Not only is their acting solid, but they’re also great with people and totally down-to-earth. Working with people like them couldn’t be more pleasant.’

The second male lead, by contrast, was the shy type. He just stood to the side smiling, glancing at Joanna Kennedy from time to time while taking out his phone, seemingly texting someone.

She didn’t have any scenes that evening, so Joanna Kennedy sat in her car memorizing her lines. Someone knocked on the window a few times. Puzzled, Joanna looked up and saw that it was the shy second male lead—Todd Crowe.

She got out of the car and asked quizzically, "Brother Crowe, can I help you?"

’It’s so late. Don’t tell me he wants to run lines?’

Todd Crowe looked a little embarrassed. He rubbed his nose. "Um, Ms. Kennedy, could we exchange contact information?"

It was perfectly normal for co-stars to exchange contact information. Typically, the actor with less clout would take the initiative to add the bigger star, or the production team would simply set up a group chat.

Joanna Kennedy smiled, her posture humble. "Please, just call me Joanna Kennedy. I can’t believe I forgot about exchanging contacts. Brother Crowe, I’ll add you."

After they exchanged contact info, Todd Crowe showed no sign of leaving. Joanna Kennedy asked, "Brother Crowe, was there something else?"

"No, no, no," Todd Crowe said, waving his hands hastily.

Joanna Kennedy was confused.

He looked troubled. "Ms. Ken—... Joanna, I have a cousin who’s a big fan of yours. He’s a photographer and just got back from abroad. When he heard you were filming with this production, he absolutely insisted on coming."

"Oh... really? That’s an honor." Joanna Kennedy was genuinely pleased.

After recently dealing with anti-fans, how could she not be happy to learn that she still had fans who liked her?

But Todd Crowe’s face was full of worry. He said, "The thing is, he’s a bit arrogant and doesn’t mince words. I’m afraid he might upset you..."

’He’s my fan, how could he possibly upset me?’ Joanna Kennedy thought, unconcerned.

But reality promptly slapped her in the face.

In the lounge, a tall, handsome man dressed in a trendy, ripped leather jacket and distressed jeans stood with a cynical, rakish air, a smirk playing on his lips. "Miss Kennedy. Long time no see."

Joanna Kennedy: "..."

"What, you don’t recognize me?"

Joanna Kennedy forced a laugh. "Of course not. You’re Wilda, the up-and-coming art photographer. So many actors and brands are begging to work with you."

’She’d just looked him up online. But it was a real shocker—she’d never have guessed that someone dressed in such an alternative style would be so famous in the photography world.’

Joanna Kennedy had thought he looked familiar from the moment she saw him, especially when he called her "Miss Kennedy," but she just couldn’t remember where she’d seen him before.

The roguish man seemed to enjoy her compliment, the smile in his eyes deepening. "So you want to work with me too?"

’That won’t be necessary.’

Joanna Kennedy: "I’m looking forward to it, looking forward to it, hahaha..."

It was completely formulaic social speak, the very definition of perfunctory, but Wilda acted as if he couldn’t tell.

He stared at the girl’s now even more beautiful and delicate face with undisguised interest and said, "If you can just say my Chinese name, I’ll do all your photography for free from now on. How about it?"

For a new-wave photographer of his domestic and international standing, a single shoot cost over a hundred thousand. For him to make such a promise was incredibly tempting.

Unfortunately, Joanna Kennedy truly didn’t know his Chinese name.

Perhaps she had known it once, but she hadn’t paid it any mind and had long since forgotten.

The man’s smile was sunny and handsome. He enunciated each word clearly, "Thomas Warren. My name is Thomas Warren."

Thomas Warren pushed his tongue against his cheek, a roguish glint in his smile. "Remember it this time, Miss Kennedy?"

Six years ago, in the classroom of Class 3-C, a boy with a head of dazzling red hair blocked her way, a wild, unrestrained grin on his face. He’d said cheekily, "I want to get on your good side, Miss Kennedy."

Joanna Kennedy remembered. Her gaze drifted over Thomas Warren’s short, jet-black hair.

Thomas Warren followed her gaze, ran a hand through his hair, and explained, "My sense of style is normal now. I think black hair looks more mature and stable."

Joanna Kennedy: "..."

She glanced at his ripped leather jacket, the corner of her mouth twitching. "...It’s great, just great."

"What, you don’t think this jacket looks good?" Thomas Warren asked, tugging at his leather jacket.

Joanna Kennedy had no desire to discuss matters of aesthetics with him. "Um, I have to go shoot a scene," she said hurriedly. "Since we’re old classmates, I won’t play host. Make yourself at home, okay..."

And with that, she slipped out.

The two words "old classmates" made Thomas Warren’s heart skip a beat. By the time he came back to his senses, Joanna Kennedy was already gone.

His cousin, the one who couldn’t squeeze out a word to save his life, squeezed into the room and asked anxiously, "You didn’t say anything rude to her, did you?"

Thomas Warren raised an eyebrow. "How could I?"

’He was too busy liking Joanna Kennedy to do that.’

"Okay, good, that’s good." Todd Crowe breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn’t help nagging, "Look, I still have to work with her for over a month. Don’t cause any trouble for me, you hear? Just mind your own..."

"Yeah, yeah..." Thomas Warren replied perfunctorily, pulling off his ripped leather jacket to reveal a tank top underneath. He cut off Todd Crowe’s rambling, asking, "So, do you think I look better like this, or how I looked before?"

The still-worrying Todd Crowe: "..."

After a phase of filming was completed, the production team held a dinner party in the evening. Staff, actors, and their assistants were all welcome to attend.

The production team was generous, booking a large hall with several tables. Joanna Kennedy went early with Julie and picked a spot in the corner where they could eat in peace.

Many of the actors had brought their agents or assistants along.

Amidst a burst of noise, Thomas Warren walked in with his arm slung around Todd Crowe’s shoulder like they were the best of friends. His ripped leather jacket was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a casually worn, light white jacket. The female lead, Shirley Shepherd, was hovering around Thomas Warren with a beaming smile, trying to make conversation.

Clearly, the two knew each other, and Shirley Shepherd had her sights set on the "alternative" guy.

Joanna Kennedy averted her gaze and focused on waiting for the food to be served. The next second, Thomas Warren plopped down unceremoniously in the seat beside her.

Shirley Shepherd froze for a few seconds before sitting down near them as well.