“Claire, the role I landed this time is definitely going to be a hit!” Daniel Mercer shouted excitedly as soon as he reached the front door of his house.
He pulled out his key and tried the lock several times, but no matter how hard he turned it, the key refused to fit.
Daniel frowned, stepped back to check the address, then stared at the lock again.
“This is my house…” he muttered.
After another failed attempt, Daniel suddenly realized what had happened.
He had been away for less than a week, yet someone had already changed the locks.
Daniel immediately called his wife.
“Claire, why did you change the lock?”
“Daniel Mercer, you actually have the nerve to come back?” Claire Bennett’s cold voice came through the phone.
Daniel ignored the hostility and said excitedly, “Claire, listen to me.
I finally got a role that’s going to be huge.”
“Enough.
I’ve heard that exact sentence a hundred times.”
Although Claire’s voice remained calm, the situation inside the house was anything but calm.
Standing beside her was a middle-aged man hurriedly pulling his shirt back on, and Claire frantically pointed toward the upstairs bedroom before motioning for him to hide.
“Just get upstairs.
Now.”
Daniel was still standing outside.
“Claire, at least open the door so we can talk.”
Claire quickly straightened her clothes and answered without emotion, “This is my house now, Daniel.
We’re getting divorced.”
Daniel fell silent.
Over the past several years, his career had steadily collapsed while Claire’s had moved in the opposite direction.
The two had delayed having children because both wanted to focus on acting, but while Daniel continued taking small independent films that barely paid, Claire landed several popular projects and gradually became a recognizable television and film actress.
Their lifestyle, house, cars, and most of their expensive possessions had eventually been paid for with her income.
People in the industry had started joking that Daniel lived off his wife.
He had always hated hearing it, but looking at the locked door in front of him now, he couldn’t completely deny the reality behind those comments.
If Claire truly divorced him, he might leave with almost nothing.
“But we’re still legally married,” Daniel said quietly.
“Wait there.
I’ll open the door, you’ll sign the divorce papers, and then you can get out.”
A few moments later, the front door opened.
Claire stood in the doorway wearing casual clothes, her hair slightly messy and her expression completely cold.
Daniel opened his mouth and said, “Claire, I—”
“Don’t call me that like we’re still husband and wife,” she interrupted.
“From today onward, whatever relationship we had is finished.”
Claire held out a folder and a pen.
“Sign.”
Daniel accepted the divorce agreement and slowly read through it.
A bitter smile appeared on his face when he reached the financial settlement, because it was exactly what he had expected.
He would leave with almost nothing.
Claire saw his hesitation and folded her arms.
“What?
You’re refusing?
Fine.
Then wait for the court papers.”
Daniel stared at the signature line for several seconds before finally taking the pen.
His hand trembled slightly as he signed his name, and Claire immediately took the agreement back.
She started closing the door, but Daniel placed one hand against it before she could shut him outside.
Claire’s face darkened.
“What are you doing?
Trying to trespass now?”
Daniel gave her a bitter look.
“You can throw me out, but at least let me pack my clothes and personal things.”
Claire froze for a moment before reluctantly opening the door wider.
“Fine.”
Daniel stepped inside, but Claire immediately remembered the other man hiding upstairs.
Her expression changed for only a fraction of a second before she quickly said, “Actually, I’ll pack everything for you.
Just stay down here.”
She hurried toward the staircase.
Daniel watched her disappear upstairs and frowned.
A minute ago, Claire had been treating him like something she wanted removed from the house as quickly as possible.
Now she was suddenly volunteering to pack his luggage personally.
That change was far too suspicious.
Daniel quietly followed her upstairs.
He had spent years working in the entertainment industry and had seen enough scandals to understand what sometimes happened behind closed doors.
He had never wanted to believe Claire was the type of actress who traded personal relationships for roles, but her career had risen unusually fast over the last few years.
There were countless performers with stronger résumés, more experience, and equal or greater talent, yet important opportunities kept finding their way to Claire.
Daniel slowed as he approached the bedroom.
Inside, Claire spoke in a hurried whisper.
“Martin, hide under the bed for a few minutes.
Daniel might come upstairs to get his things.”
A man’s irritated voice answered, “You seriously want me hiding under a bed?”
“What if he sees you?”
“So what?” Martin Hayes replied dismissively.
“What’s Daniel going to do?
He’s an unknown actor whose own agency barely remembers he exists.”
Claire remained silent.
Martin continued, “With the people I know, one phone call is enough to make sure he never gets another decent role in this town.”
Bang!
The bedroom door flew open.
Daniel stood in the doorway with both fists clenched.
Claire’s face immediately changed.
Martin Hayes stood beside the bed with his shirt still partly unbuttoned, and the sight confirmed everything Daniel had been unwilling to believe.
“Claire Bennett…” Daniel’s voice shook with anger.
“You really opened my eyes today.”
Claire stared at him without speaking.
“I spent years telling myself you were different from the people who traded themselves for opportunities,” Daniel continued.
“I thought whatever happened between us, at least you still had some self-respect.”
His expression twisted with disgust.
“Turns out I was wrong.”
Claire’s shock quickly disappeared and was replaced by contempt.
She calmly picked up a cigarette from the dresser, lit it, and took a slow drag before answering.
“So what?”
Daniel stared at her.
Claire exhaled smoke and said, “I wasn’t going to become like you.”
“A nobody.”
“A man who keeps talking about artistic integrity while his career dies in front of him.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
Claire gave a cold smile.
“You know something, Daniel?
For years you’ve been my example of exactly what I never wanted to become.”
Blood rushed into Daniel’s head.
His fists tightened so hard that his knuckles turned white, but despite everything Claire had said, he had never been the kind of man who hit women.
Instead, his gaze shifted toward Martin Hayes.
Martin barely had time to react.
Daniel charged straight at him.
Five days later, Atlas Vance stood inside Vance Studios with his phone pressed against his ear.
“The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…” the automated message repeated before the call disconnected again.
Atlas stared at the screen and frowned.
It had already been five days.
No matter how many times he called Daniel Mercer, the actor never answered.
Fortunately, Daniel had signed the performance agreement before leaving after their coffee-shop meeting.
The production still had some time before Ryuji Takayama’s scenes were scheduled, so Atlas wasn’t panicking yet.
If Daniel actually abandoned the movie without explanation, the contract included enough breach-of-contract damages to make disappearing extremely expensive.
“If he stands me up, at least the company gets paid,” Atlas muttered.
For now, he turned his attention back to filming preparations and walked into the makeup room.
A female makeup artist was standing beside Sadako Yamamura, who sat silently in front of the mirror while being prepared for her role.
Sadako had changed back into the familiar white dress, and her long black hair had been combed forward until it covered most of her face.
Atlas knew perfectly well that Sadako didn’t actually need professional horror makeup.
With her psychic abilities and supernatural control over her appearance, she could probably make herself terrifying with a single thought.
Still, everyone else believed she was simply an actress, so letting the makeup department work on her helped maintain appearances.
The makeup artist visibly relaxed when Atlas entered the room.
“Director Vance,” she said quickly, “could you maybe assign someone to assist me in here?”
Atlas looked confused.
“An assistant?
Why?
Aside from Sadako’s look, most of the makeup in Ring isn’t especially complicated.”
The woman hesitated before glancing toward Sadako.
“It’s not really the workload.”
Atlas followed her gaze.
Sadako sat completely motionless in front of the mirror.
“I just…” The makeup artist lowered her voice.
“She makes me nervous.”
Normally, frightening yourself with makeup you had personally created should have been something of an achievement for a horror makeup artist.
In this case, however, the woman didn’t feel proud at all.
She felt like every minute alone with Sadako stretched twice as long as it should.
The makeup room was small, quiet, and rarely visited by other crew members.
Earlier, the artist had repeatedly tried making conversation while working, hoping to make the atmosphere less uncomfortable, but Sadako never answered.
She simply sat there expressionlessly, occasionally looking at the woman through the mirror with eyes that carried an unsettling coldness.
That wasn’t even the worst part.
Every time the makeup artist accidentally touched Sadako’s skin, she felt an unnatural chill.
It wasn’t merely cold skin from air-conditioning; it felt like touching someone whose body had been lying in a morgue.
The thought made her hands tremble.
She had started wondering whether she was imagining things.
At the same time, she couldn’t help admiring Atlas for finding an actress this perfectly suited to the role.
Even without makeup, Sadako only needed to stare silently at someone for several seconds to make their scalp tighten and goosebumps spread across their arms.
Atlas looked at Sadako and then back at the frightened makeup artist.
He smiled.
“Don’t worry.
Sadako doesn’t talk much, but she’s actually very kind.”
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