The Discarded Heiress Owns The Wasteland

Casey walked toward the edge of the stage. She didn't look back.

Callum Cabrera stepped out from the shadows. He was a wall of muscle, his face hard. He reached out and grabbed Kayson's shoulder, holding the sputtering idol back.

"Let me go!" Kayson yelled, trying to shake off Callum's grip. "She's crazy!"

"Shut up," Callum growled. His voice was deep, commanding. "We're live. Do you want to ruin your career?"

Kayson's chest heaved. He glared at Casey's back, but he stopped struggling.

From the side of the stage, Coralie appeared. She hurried over to Kayson, her face a picture of distress. She took his injured hand in hers, stroking it gently.

"Kayson, are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Kayson's expression softened instantly. "I'm fine. She's just insane."

Coralie looked up, her gaze landing on Casey. For a split second, pure malice flickered in her eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by saintly sorrow.

She walked toward Casey. Her steps were small, careful. She stopped a foot away and opened her arms, offering a hug.

"Sister," Coralie said, her voice carrying through the microphones. "No matter what happens, I hope you find true love here."

Casey stopped walking. She turned her head slowly. She looked at Coralie's outstretched arms, then at her tear-streaked face.

Casey didn't move. She didn't step back. She just stood there, staring at Coralie like she was looking at a corpse.

The silence stretched. The audience held its breath. Coralie's arms hung in the air, trembling slightly. Her eyes widened, tears spilling over.

The holographic screens, though Casey couldn't see them, flashed red with anger.

Casey tilted her head. "Move," she said. Two words, cold as the vacuum of space.

Coralie flinched like she'd been slapped. Her body shook.

Callum was there in an instant. He stepped in front of Coralie, shielding her completely. He glared at Casey, his eyes promising violence.

"That's enough," he snarled. "Back off."

Casey shrugged. She looked bored. She sidestepped the pair of them, giving them a wide berth.

She walked to the far edge of the stage, into the darkest corner. She sat down on a metal bench, closed her eyes, and waited.

Behind her, Coralie collapsed against Callum's chest, sobbing. Callum held her, his eyes burning holes in Casey's back.

In the control room, Director Quinn Vance stared at the monitor. The ratings graph was a vertical line going straight up. He slammed his hand on the desk, laughing.