Shootie North District Second People's Hospital.
Wearing a hat and mask, accompanied by Taylor and Edward, Chloe arrived at the hospital with supplements to visit the actor injured the day before.
Despite her growing popularity before her drama even aired, she'd deliberately kept a low profile today—even the bodyguards assigned by her company hadn't accompanied her.
Edward asked at the nurses' station and quickly learned which room the young man was in. But when they reached the door, they found someone had arrived before them.
"Marcus?" Taylor blurted out in surprise upon seeing him.
Marcus, who had been talking with the young man, turned at the sound. His face registered surprise—a perfect I didn't expect you here expression. "Oh? You guys came too?"
"Chloe has no scenes today, so she wanted to check on our injured colleague," Taylor explained. Her gaze fell on the supplements arranged on the bedside table. Another surprise—they were almost identical to what she was carrying. A few were even the same brand.
"Oh." Marcus nodded slightly, glancing at Chloe. "Bryan was worried about him too. He specifically asked me to come today."
"Are you... Miss Chloe?" The young man in bed finally recognized the masked figure. Excited, he tried to sit up straight.
Chloe quickly stepped forward. "Don't move! Your foot's still injured."
Seeing his bandaged foot, she asked with concern, "Is it serious? How bad?"
"Fracture," Marcus answered for him. "The doctor said it'll heal with time—won't affect normal movement later. But he'll need to be careful. No more risky stunts for a while. A second injury to the same spot would be worse."
Chloe nodded in understanding. "Rest up and recover well. We brought you some supplements—make sure to take them."
The young man was deeply moved. Chloe was so kind and gentle. Despite her exhausting, busy schedule, she'd taken her rare day off to visit him in the hospital.
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He was just an insignificant extra. He'd worked on dozens of films and TV shows but barely ever appeared on screen. His spoken lines could be counted on one hand. No one ever noticed him.
"Thank you, Miss Chloe. For coming all this way."
"Just call me Chloe. I'm not 'Miss' anything." She smiled helplessly.
People on set often inexplicably called her "Miss," and she still couldn't get used to it.
"I saw you act on set. You're amazing. You are a pro." The young man was earnest, his words and expression radiating a natural simplicity.
As they talked, Chloe learned his name was Tammy. He was only twenty, from a rural village in the north. He'd left home at fifteen to make a living.
With little education and underage back then, even a pyramid scheme wouldn't waste food on him—they'd let him go almost immediately.
He drifted south, working odd jobs: washing dishes, cleaning cars, even learning to scrub customers at bathhouses. Then he discovered Shootie and the world of background extras. He started taking gigs through a crew head.
But competition among extras was fierce. At first, he earned so little that most went to the crew head. He survived on set meal boxes.
Later, he discovered that taking "beating scenes" or physically demanding roles paid double—sometimes more. He begged the crew head for those opportunities and slowly started saving.
Chloe listened, her eyes reddening multiple times. She'd always known how hard extras had it. But it wasn't just the industry's cruelty that moved her—it was his journey before all this.
Leaving home at fifteen, struggling just to survive—so much hardship.
Marcus stepped away to the window and messaged Bryan, who was attending a brand event in Aethelburg. "Chloe's here."
No immediate reply. Marcus hesitated. Could he leave now?
"Miss Chloe... could I... take a photo with you?"
Tammy hesitated, then bashfully whispered his request. He'd watched her perform on set and thought she was incredible. He almost worshipped her.
Today was a rare chance. If he missed it, he might never get another.
"Now?"
Chloe looked at him, stiff in his hospital bed, and couldn't help but smile wryly. "How about when you're better? Come find me on set then."
Tammy's eyes dropped, his expression sinking. "I probably can't go back."
Marcus rejoined them and explained, "The production will cover his treatment and compensation, of course. But because of this, they probably won't hire him again."
"Besides, our shooting schedule isn't that long. They say bones take a hundred days to heal. By the time he's recovered, we'll almost be done filming."
Chloe nodded, processing this. Marcus's words seemed reasonable, yet somehow not. It left her feeling conflicted.
"Let's take it now."
Her kindness won out. She couldn't bear to refuse Tammy.
But she remembered Wendy's warning: avoid photos alone with people—they could be misused. Taylor was about to remind her when Chloe said, "Everyone together!"
And so a photo was taken: Tammy lying in his hospital bed, surrounded by Chloe, Marcus, Taylor, and Edward. He posted it on his social media and moments.
"Edward, add him on LetsChat." Chloe turned to Edward, then back to Tammy. "I'm new too. This is my first drama. If you're still in the business when you recover, and suitable opportunities come up, I'll have Edward reach out."
Tammy froze, then his face lit up with disbelief. "R-really, Miss Chloe?"
"Don't get too excited. I'm a rookie. I don't have much say. I might not be able to get you anything great..."
"That's okay. Any role, no matter how small—I'll take it." Tammy's eyes reddened.
Taylor and Edward exchanged glances and sighed silently.
Their little Chloe—so soft-hearted, so kind. An angel on earth.
Even Marcus felt a twinge of helplessness. Chloe was far too innocent. But in this industry, innocence wasn't a virtue. At any moment, someone could stab you in the back.
He'd been in this business for years. He'd watched countless newcomers slowly corrupted, swallowed, assimilated by this environment.
How long could her purity last?
