Silas Thornfield

"That kiss! Sparks are literally flying between them. I can't believe it's just an act!" "They either hate each other or are madly in love. The best chemistry in cinema history!" "Directors, give them a new film! The screen melts when they're in the same frame!" Spotlights and artificial rain. The script called for a moment of despair. He jerked her toward him, and his lips covered hers with greedy, almost frightening confidence. This was a battle, not just a kiss. But as soon as "Cut!" sounded, they instantly pulled away from each other, expressions of deep disgust. She walked into the theater for the script reading and froze. He stood by the window and, turning slowly, cast a bored glance at her. "You again?" That same unbearable grin played across his face. "Apparently the producers decided they could still make money off your mediocrity." She narrowed her eyes coldly, clutching the script. "I hoped you'd given up on your career after that failure. Are you really that broke?" He came close and leaned towards her ear, dousing her with familiar perfume. "Did you miss me?" he whispered mockingly. "We have even more chemistry in the new script. Try not to fall in love, I don't sign autographs on the heart."