Chapter 112
Celestine broke into a run, aiming for the main hall–only to be stopped short at the entrance. She didn’t have a staff pass.
She stared at the security guard, on the verge of tears. For a second, it seemed almost plausible that Chester had sent Joanna just to sabotage her.
She pulled out her phone, intending to text Denton for help, but Mirabelle’s messages popped up first–several of them, in rapid succession.
“Did you find it, Celly?”
“Oh no! They’re checking passes at the door, are you stuck outside???”
“Denton says he can’t find you. Where are you, Celly?”
“If you really can’t get in, it’s okay. I have to go onstage soon, there’s no time. Text me back when you see this.”
Celestine covered her face, groaning in frustration. Her phone had been on silent–she’d missed every message.
“ཞ
“Come on.”
She looked up, startled. Gideon was already striding into the VIP entrance, met by a
host of deferential staff.
“I don’t have a pass. Is that okay?” she asked uncertainly.
Gideon glanced at the event manager by his side. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all! Any friend of Mr. Prescott’s is our honored guest,” the manager blurted out, practically bowing.
So, just like that, Celestine followed Gideon up to the second–floor inner circle.
The awards ceremony had already begun. Every celebrity was in their seat.
Her gaze fell, immediately, on the center of the front row–Joanna. As expected, she was draped in the legendary diamond–studded gown. The dress was dazzling, but on Joanna’s delicate features, it looked forced, like she was struggling to embody the elegance the gown demanded.
Still… Celestine couldn’t shake the feeling she’d seen her somewhere before.
She checked her phone–social media was blowing up with news about Joanna’s dress. Fan wars were erupting everywhere.
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Chapter 112
Celestine broke into a run, aiming for the main hall–only to be stopped short at the entrance. She didn’t have a staff pass.
She stared at the security guard, on the verge of tears. For a second, it seemed almost plausible that Chester had sent Joanna just to sabotage her.
She pulled out her phone, intending to text Denton for help, but Mirabelle’s messages popped up first–several of them, in rapid succession.
“Did you find it, Celly?”
“Oh no! They’re checking passes at the door, are you stuck outside???”
“Denton says he can’t find you. Where are you, Celly?”
“If you really can’t get in, it’s okay. I have to go onstage soon, there’s no time. Text me back when you see this.”
Celestine covered her face, groaning in frustration. Her phone had been on silent–she’d missed every message.
“Come on.”
She looked up, startled. Gideon was already striding into the VIP entrance, met by a host of deferential staff.
“I don’t have a pass. Is that okay?” she asked uncertainly.
Gideon glanced at the event manager by his side. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all! Any friend of Mr. Prescott’s is our honored guest,” the manager blurted out, practically bowing.
So, just like that, Celestine followed Gideon up to the second–floor inner circle.
The awards ceremony had already begun. Every celebrity was in their seat.
Her gaze fell, immediately, on the center of the front row–Joanna. As expected, she was draped in the legendary diamond–studded gown. The dress was dazzling, but on Joanna’s delicate features, it looked forced, like she was struggling to embody the elegance the gown demanded.
Still… Celestine couldn’t shake the feeling she’d seen her somewhere before.
She checked her phone–social media was blowing up with news about Joanna’s dress. Fan wars were erupting everywhere.
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17:32
Mirabelle’s dress, though beautiful, looked understated next to Joanna’s ostentatious display. Mirabelle kept to herself, ignoring both Joanna’s barbed comments and her attempts at friendly gestures.
Celestine found her seat as the nominations began rolling out.
Mirabelle’s production, *Fleeting Years*, was up for nearly every major award. Before the show, everyone had predicted Mirabelle was a shoo–in for the top prize.
The ceremony officially began.
Celestine listened intently from the audience, so focused she looked like a student in class. Gideon, noticing her serious expression, couldn’t help but smile.
Celestine caught his glance and frowned, not understanding what was so funny.
As the ceremony neared its end, the atmosphere shifted.
Celestine set down her phone, realizing something was off.
*Fleeting Years* had been nominated for nearly everything–yet hadn’t won a single award. The outcome was baffling. Even Celestine, who rarely watched TV, knew the show’s reputation. Despite being a thriller, it had captivated audiences with tight plotting, stellar performances, and innovative direction. Online buzz had been overwhelming.
Mirabelle, who had spent years in obscurity, had made her comeback thanks to this very show–a leap from the sidelines to the A–list.
Given all that, the snub made no sense.
Online, fans were already ablaze:
“What is going on? Why did *Fleeting Years* miss out on every category?!”
“Magnolia Awards, are you for real? You gave Best Editing to a show that totally fell apart, and nothing for *Fleeting Years*? Are the judges blind?”
“Oh, look, the stans are getting desperate. Doesn’t this just prove the organizers are unbiased and fair?”
“Unbiased and fair? Maybe if they actually had a shred of decency?”
“Let’s wait and see. Maybe they’re saving the best for last! Still Best Actress to go! Hang in there! Like they always say, the best is saved for last!”
The entire hall held its breath as the Best Actress award approached.
Of the four nominees, the others were competent, but Mirabelle clearly outclassed
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them all. Joanna, In particular, was nominated for Best Actress despite only having a supporting role.
At that moment, Celestine had a sinking feeling. Her nails dug into her palm.
They really were going to pull something this shameless.
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