She walked off the set, heels clicking a rhythm of defiance.
She closed the door, poured two fingers of scotch, and pulled out the napkins again. She had a meeting tomorrow with a streaming service. They wanted a "gritty comeback" for a "woman of a certain age."
Later, in her trailer, Chloe knocked. "Was that really your line?" the girl asked, eyes wide.
"You think I don't know what you're going to do tomorrow," Vivian said—her line, not his. "You think I'll break. But baby, I broke twenty years ago. What you see now isn't glass. It's bone."