Quintessa was roused from her slumber by the gnawing pangs of hunger. She squinted at the clock; it was already nudging 1 PM.
She grabbed her phone and noticed two missed calls, both from Violet.
She quickly dialed her back.
The call got connected almost immediately, and Quintessa yawned, "Hey Violet, what's up? Just woke up."
Violet's voice was tinged with excitement, "For the love of God, Quintessa, with the whole Roxanne scandal blowing up, how can you still be sleeping?"
Quintessa raked her fingers through her hair, "The bigger the mess is, the better I sleep. If things were quiet, then I'd be worried."
Violet lowered her voice, almost conspiratorially, "I've got some insider info. Roxanne's claiming that someone spiked her drink, saying she's been set up. The cops are on it, but so far, they haven't dug up much. Looks like they're treating it as a regular solicitation case."
Quintessa snorted, "Let them dig. Roxanne's backers will drop her like a hot potato now that she's damaged goods. she’s nothing but a small-time actress, and with the cops grasping at straws, it's likely to stay a minor incident."
Violet couldn't hide her thrill, "Roxanne's been strutting around the scene for years, and you just yanked the rug out from under her. I swear, you're holding all the aces."
She continued, "But what about the production, huh? Roxanne hadn't finished her scenes. The schedule's tight; what's the plan?"
"Don't sweat it," Quintessa reassured her. "Director Fitch was never her biggest fan. With her out of the picture, he's probably relieved. You can bet he's figuring out a workaround. No producer's gonna let their investment tank. Plus, with Roxanne's scenes cut, mine will likely bulk up."
Violet teased, "Jeez, you—I love you so much"
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