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LAYLA’S POV: I stand in the well-lit dressing room, my heart pounding as I stare at my reflection in one of the vanity mirrors. The weight of the scandal hangs heavy around my neck, suffocating me with every breath. The d.amning video mocks me from every corner of the internet, as if I’m the most disgusting person alive. It’s everywhere, spreading like wildfire, leaving destruction in its wake. But it isn't just the shame of my actions that makes my stomach churn with fear. It’s the knowledge that my colleagues in the industry I’ve worked alongside for years are now gossiping behind my back, casting judgmental glances my way. I can feel their eyes bearing into me, their accusations echoing in my ears. "Isn't the man in the s.ex video the husband of her best friend?" “He is.” “Oh my go