The top guy said he traded anorexia for a wife
In order to treat anorexia, I was forced to sign a variety show contract.
Playing the role of a sweet couple with her arch-rival actor, and having him watch her eat every day.
"Don't even think about leaving the table if you can't finish tonight."
When the audience screamed for his domineering doting, I was the only one who knew that it was all scripted.
Until the last night of the show, I overheard his conversation with the director:
"I will pay double the liquidated damages, but I must take the person away."
"I want to play this scene with him for the rest of my life."
---
His stomach was churning, and his throat instinctively tightened.
I looked at the exquisitely plated food on the table in front of me. They looked like a bunch of brightly colored, cold models. The smell of oil and seasonings not only failed to arouse appetite, but instead gave rise to a deeper sense of rejection, which settled heavily in the abdominal cavity, making one just want to retching.
The agent, Sister Lan, was sitting across from me, tapping her nails on the table anxiously, making a "ta, da, da" sound, which made my temples throb and hurt.
"Thank you, look at what you look like now!" She suppressed her voice, as if she was afraid of disturbing something, but the anger inside was almost coming out, "At the last brand event, the haute couture suit was so empty that it could fit into a fist! The media press release is still saying that I treat artists harshly! Is this harsh treatment? Ah? It's because you don't eat a bite!"
I lowered my eyes and stared at the slender golden rim on the edge of the bone china bowl, while my fingers dug at the tablecloth unconsciously. A small, uncomfortable cramp continued in my stomach. Don't want to eat. Can't eat anything. Both body and will are resisting.
"Sister Lan," I said, my voice was as dry as sandpaper.
