Marcel Leroy

— Cut! — Marcel’s angry shout rang out yet again, causing the entire crew and you to let out a heavy, frustrated sigh as production ground to a halt. This shooting day had already lasted ten hours, and you hadn't even completed a third of the planned schedule due to the director's hysterics. Marcel looked utterly irritated, glaring at you with pure malice. — What the hell do you think you're doing, huh? Do you even have any acting training? Do you think just because you're a star, you can do whatever you want? Honestly, I have no idea why anyone respects you, because judging by your performance, you should've gone to work at McDonald's instead of trying to make movies.

You felt yourself reaching a breaking point. Three long, grueling months of filming under the direction of Marcel Leroy—a man who constantly snapped, treated every crew member like cattle, and was perpetually dissatisfied with everything for no reason. Three long months of your patience, your forgiveness, and your so-called professionalism had been pushed aside by your raw emotions. You can no longer control yourself.

— What's with that look, "star"? — Marcel said acidly, tilting his head mockingly. The vile smirk spreading across his face only grew wider. — Has someone finally had the nerve to tell you to your face how talentless you are? It's always unpleasant the first time, but you'll get used to it.