The Ultimate Cut After the 99th Plunge

The December sea wind carried shards of ice, slashing at my face like knives. I stood on the rocks, my blue costume soaked by the waves, clinging tightly to my body; the cold seeped through my pores and burrowed into my bones. "One more take!" Hailey's voice came from the shore, the loudspeaker carrying her commands through the wind with unmistakable authority. This was the ninety-ninth time. From dawn till dusk, I plunged repeatedly into the icy sea, portraying a desperate man casting himself into the waves. Each time I climbed ashore, my assistant Wesley would instantly wrap me in a thick down jacket and hand me ginger tea. But my body was still frozen stiff, my temples pounding, dizziness overwhelming me. "Mr. Hilton, you look awful. Why don't you talk to Ms. Trent and ask to postpone the shoot until tomorrow?" Wesley's voice was thick with concern as he reached out and touched my forehead. "You're burning up—you have a fever!" I waved him off and forced down the ginger tea in one gulp. The burning liquid slid down my throat but couldn't thaw the icy chill clutching my chest. Hailey Trent is my fiancée. She has devoted three years of her life to this film. I just won Best Actor and wanted to help her make a name for herself. This hardship is nothing. But as I wrapped myself in a down jacket, curling up in the corner of the rest shelter waiting for makeup touch-ups, the wind lifted a gap in the canvas, and Hailey's conversation with the Assistant Director drifted inside. "Ms. Trent, Mr. Hilton already has a 39-degree fever. If we keep shooting like this, he might be ill." The Assistant Director's voice was hesitant. Hailey sneered, her tone laced with impatience: "That's pretty good. Let him be ill. Who told him to snatch Yusuf's award?" My hand froze abruptly; the ginger tea spilled on my pants, but I didn't feel the heat. "The Best Actor award was supposed to go to Yusuf. If Hunter didn't have someone backing him, why would it be his turn?" Hailey's voice turned colder: "These 99 sea jumps are both a lesson for him and a way to vent Yusuf's frustration." The Assistant Director sighed, "But after all, you're about to marry Mr. Hilton; doing this..." "Marry?" Hailey cut him off, her voice dripping with undisguised contempt. "I've gotten where I am today through my own abilities; I have nothing whatsoever to do with him. If he weren't still of some use to me, I would have cut ties with him long ago." The wind pushed the tent curtains wider, and I caught a glimpse of Hailey's profile as she turned away—cold as ice. So all those times I plunged into the icy sea, enduring fever after fever—it was all her "lesson," a way to take out her anger for another man. So the glory of winning the award was, in her eyes, a stain of having been "snatched." A sudden, heavy pain gripped my chest, sharper than the cold bite of the seawater. I leaned against a post and slowly crouched down, uncontrollable coughing erupting from my throat.