"But the reality is, their incomplete routine doesn't do your song justice. Using it will only drag down the entire album," the director continued heatedly.
"If you insist on filming a flawed dance, then let me be clear—I refuse to direct any of the other music videos for this project."
The set fell completely silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
The director wasn't entirely wrong. It made more sense to bring Reba's team back in rather than shoot a botched routine.
Right as the argument peaked, Reba was called over by the director.
"Please, let's not fight," Reba interjected smoothly, feigning helplessness as she looked between Kenneth and the director. Putting on a mask of concern, she said softly, "No one wanted this accident to happen."
"Personally, I still hope Ms. Charlotte's team can perform it."
Her tone was practically dripping with faux sincerity.
"Absolutely not," the director barked, agitated even further by Reba's seemingly selfless act. "We have three options."
"One, Charlotte magically finds another dancer and guarantees the routine is flawless."
"Two, we use Reba's dance."
"Or three, I walk away from the entire project. You decide, Kenneth."
Hearing the ultimatum, Reba held her breath, her eyes locked on Kenneth's dark expression.
Anyone in their right mind would choose the second option, right?
Offending this director meant halting production on all the music videos, which would tank the whole album.
Surely Kenneth wouldn't jeopardize his shot at an international music award just to spoil his sister, right?
"Fine."
After a moment of thought, Kenneth looked up, his expression dead serious.
Fine? Reba's heart raced with anticipation. Did he just agree to let her take over?
"We'll delay the album's release," Kenneth declared, shocking everyone in the room. "I'll cover all the financial losses myself."
What?
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