Chapter 2

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"I can't believe he called out for a week."

"He looks fine. I can't even call off work for the flu, why does he think he's so special?"

Bright heard the grumbles but tried to keep his head up as he walked onto set. He'd been bedridden for nearly 3 days with the pain and his mom had tried to get him to go to the hospital, but they didn't have the money for that right now. The pain had eventually faded, but he'd still been too sore to move and had trouble digesting food so he'd taken a few extra days. He still wasn't fully 100%, but he couldn't risk this job. Bills were due for both his condo and his courses. He had no more time.

He went right to the director and bowed low, pressing his hands together. "I'm so sorry about the last few days. It won't happen again."

"See that it don't," the director grumbled, not looking at him. He would've quickly changed to someone different, but fans of the novel they were using for the show were already excited about having someone so good looking play the main character for the series. He didn't know what would happen if they swapped him out now.

Bright bowed and apologized to the rest of the cast and crew, then made his way to his co-star. He was getting his makeup done in preparation for their upcoming scenes.

"Thank you for coming to check on me," Bright said to him softly. "I don't know what I would have done without you. Thank you. And I'm so sorry about these past few days."

Win simply nodded and gave him a small smile, before focusing again on the script he had propped in his lap. There was a cool seriousness about him Bright observed when it came to work that Bright could respect.

He sat in the seat next to him to get his hair and makeup done as well, trying not to groan when he had to bend at the waist. He still had no clue what happened to him and was starting to really believe he may have gotten hit by a car or something walking home from the bar. But why would the injury be concentrated in his stomach?

Bright hoped it would go away soon. Maybe it was an ulcer, or a hernia, or -

"We're still filming a few separate scenes today," Win's mellow voice interrupted his racing thoughts. "The director wasn't sure you'd make it."

"I'd called and told him I was coming," Bright responded, sounding a bit offended that he hadn't been believed.

Win looked to think something over for a moment, then turned to him, his brows scrunched. "You've left a bad impression on a lot of people. It's going to take some time to rectify that. I tried my best to tell them you were really sick."

Bright sighed. He knew he didn't have the best track record and this week of missing working would do nothing to improve it. All he could do was show up and give his best from now on. "Hmm. Well, thank you for that, at least." He rubbed at his stomach.

"Are you okay? You've looked a little pale since you sat down."

Bright glanced around then said in a low voice, "Honestly? I feel like my insides are one giant bruise. It's gotten better but bending in any way is killing me."

"Are you sure you should have come in today?" Win sounded concerned.

Bright wasn't used to someone he barely knew being genuinely worried about him. At least, it sounded genuine. It was hard to tell in this industry. Some people were kind as long as they were working with you, then you never heard from them again until they had to play nice at some event.

"I don't know, but I couldn't keep staying home."

"Are you taking any pain medication?"

Bright shook his head.

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