The Scumbag's Regret: My Lethal Comeback

A violent wave of nausea hit Karina the moment she opened her eyes.

The glaring overhead lights of the Los Angeles film set stabbed into her retinas. Her brain throbbed as if someone had driven a rusty nail through her skull, flooding her mind with memories that didn't belong to her. What is this place? Am I dead? No... this body, this light... this is real. She squinted, her vision blurry, her stomach twisting into a tight, painful knot.

Before she could even process the sheer insanity of her situation, a sharp rush of wind sliced toward her right cheek.

Candice Meadows, the lead actress, had gone entirely off-script. Malice flashed in Candice's eyes as she swung her arm with full force, aiming a vicious slap right at Karina's face.

Around them, the crew sucked in collective, shocked breaths. Behind the monitor, director Arthur Vance's eyes widened in horror, but his mouth couldn't form the word "Cut" fast enough.

In that split second, muscle memory forged in the blood-soaked dirt of a war zone took over.

Karina didn't flinch. She didn't cower. Her left hand shot up with a speed that defied human reflexes.

Smack.

A dull, heavy thud echoed across the set. Karina's fingers clamped around Candice's delicate wrist like a steel vice, stopping the slap dead in mid-air. The sheer force of the impact seemed to suck the oxygen right out of the room.

Pain shot up Candice's arm. Her bones ground together under the crushing grip. Her eyes bulged in disbelief as she tried to yank her hand back, but it was like trying to pull her arm out of an industrial hydraulic press. Karina didn't budge an inch.

Slowly, Karina lifted her gaze.

The timid, pathetic look that usually occupied this body's eyes was gone. In its place was a stare as cold as a morgue slab. It was the look of someone who had crawled out of a mountain of corpses. Pure, unadulterated intent to kill.

Meeting that horrifying gaze, Candice's heart violently contracted. Her knees gave out, trembling uncontrollably. The lines she had prepared to humiliate Karina died in her throat.

Dead silence fell over the set. The only sound was Candice's heavy, terrified panting being picked up by the boom mics.

Arthur leaped up from his director's chair. He stared at the monitor, his hands shaking with pure adrenaline as he looked at Karina's face-a perfect blend of overwhelming dominance and shattered beauty.

Karina tightened her grip just a fraction, watching Candice's face contort in agony. A mocking, ice-cold smirk touched Karina's lips.

Then, she flicked her wrist.

The momentum sent Candice stumbling backward. Her expensive stiletto heel snapped. She crashed hard onto the dusty plywood floor of the set, a pathetic heap of designer fabric and bruised ego.

Candice's assistant shrieked and rushed forward to help her up. The fall snapped Candice out of her paralyzed fear. Tears of humiliation spilled down her cheeks.

"She assaulted me!" Candice screamed, pointing a trembling finger at Karina. "She did that on purpose!"

Karina looked down at her. She looked at Candice the exact same way she would look at a harmless, rotting corpse. Without a single word, Karina casually dusted off her hands.

Arthur finally found his voice. "Cut! Perfect! That was a textbook reversal!" he yelled, his voice cracking with ecstasy.

The crew exchanged stunned looks before a scattered, hesitant applause broke out. The disgust they usually reserved for Karina, the D-list 'vase', morphed into a stunned confusion. The disgust was still there, but now it was mixed with a healthy dose of shock, and perhaps, a sliver of fear.

Hearing the director's praise, Candice's fake tears froze. Jealousy twisted her perfectly contoured face into something ugly, but she bit her lip so hard it almost bled, forcing herself to stay quiet.

Karina ignored the applause. She ignored the director. Right now, her stomach felt like it was digesting itself. The starvation from the war zone carried over into this weak body, screaming for high-calorie food.

She turned her back on Candice and started walking toward the craft service area at the edge of the set. Her steps were loose, lazy, yet carried a dangerous rhythm.

A grip guy watched her approach and instinctively swallowed hard. He stepped aside, and the rest of the crew followed, parting like the Red Sea to give her a wide path.

Arthur watched her walk away, rubbing his hands together greedily. He snapped his fingers at the cameraman. "Save that clip. Lock it down right now."

Candice shoved her assistant away and scrambled to her feet. She glared at Karina's retreating back, her eyes burning with toxic calculation.

Karina reached the edge of the rest area. Suddenly, the atrocious physical condition of this original body caught up with her. A massive wave of hypoglycemic dizziness slammed into her brain. Her vision went black at the edges, and her foot caught on a cable.

She reached out blindly, her hand slapping against a cold metal prop rack. The freezing metal grounded her slightly, but a layer of cold sweat had already broken out on her forehead.

Just then, the heavy soundproof doors of the soundstage swung open.

A tall, broad-shouldered man walked in, surrounded by a wall of bodyguards. He brought a freezing, untouchable aura into the room with him.

Karina's vision was swimming. All she saw was a massive dark shadow moving toward her. She tried to plant her feet, but her weak legs betrayed her, sending her pitching forward.

Thud.

Her forehead slammed hard into a solid chest that smelled faintly of cold cedarwood. The impact knocked the breath out of her, and she let out a low, pained grunt.

The man stopped dead in his tracks. He looked down at the woman who had just thrown herself into his arms. His perfectly sculpted brows pulled together, a flash of deep irritation crossing his features.

Julian Thorne, the man's agent, immediately lunged forward. He grabbed Karina's arm to yank her away.

"Watch yourself," Julian hissed sharply.

The pull helped Karina find her balance. She rubbed her red forehead and looked up, meeting a pair of deep, freezing amber eyes.

Those amber eyes belonged to a face that looked like it had been sculpted by a flawless, unforgiving god.

Karina's brain rapidly sifted through the original owner's memories. The identity clicked instantly. Jefferson Stein. The untouchable A-list actor. The apex predator of Hollywood. A massive, walking complication she had zero interest in dealing with.

Karina immediately took a half-step back, putting physical distance between them. She wiped every trace of emotion from her face, replacing it with a cold, business-like mask.

"My apologies. Low blood sugar. I lost my footing," she said. Her voice was flat, devoid of the desperate fawning every other actress in this town used when they looked at him.

But inside Jefferson's head, a completely different voice exploded. It was loud, brutally honest, cynical, and crystal clear.

[Holy shit! Look at those pecs! That face! This is the absolute ceiling of human male genetics! Too bad he looks like a frigid block of wood! ]

Jefferson's massive frame went completely rigid. His pupils dilated in shock, and his gaze swept the hallway like a radar.

Aside from his tense agent Julian and the stone-faced bodyguards, no one was speaking. The hallway was so quiet he could hear the hum of the air conditioning.

Jefferson's eyes snapped back to the pale, indifferent woman standing in front of him. His frown deepened.

Karina noticed him staring. Annoyance flared in her chest, but she kept her polite, fake mask on and gave a stiff nod.

[What the hell is he looking at? Has he never seen a hot girl with low blood sugar? If he keeps blocking my way to a burger, I swear to God I'll strip that expensive haute couture suit off him and use it as a mop. ]

The voice boomed in Jefferson's skull again.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers curling into tight fists at his sides. He was staring right at her mouth. Her lips hadn't moved a single millimeter.

Julian noticed his boss's strange reaction. Assuming Jefferson was pissed about the cheap stunt, Julian stepped right in front of Karina, blocking her view of the actor.

"Miss Abbott, please mind your professional boundaries," Julian warned, his tone dripping with condescension.

Karina gave a careless shrug. She didn't have the energy to argue with idiots. She turned sideways, pressing her back against the cold wall, and squeezed past the group.

[This agent acts like a Chihuahua guarding its food. Whatever. Eating is more important. I'm literally starving to death. ]

The crisp, sarcastic thought drifted into Jefferson's mind as she brushed past him.

He could smell the cheap, synthetic strawberry scent of her shampoo. The contrast between her cheap reality and her arrogant, violent thoughts created a bizarre, jarring disconnect in his brain.

Jefferson whipped around, staring hard at her swaying but rapid retreat. A storm of shock raged in his amber eyes.

"Jeff, are you okay?" Julian asked, trying to soothe him. "I've seen a million D-list actresses try to climb the ladder like that. Just ignore her."

Jefferson took a deep breath, forcing his racing heart to slow down. His voice came out slightly hoarse. "Julian... did you hear anyone talking just now?"

Julian looked confused and shook his head. "No. Just me warning her. Why? Have you been shooting too many back-to-back scenes? Are you hallucinating from exhaustion?"

Hallucinations.

Jefferson rubbed his throbbing temples. That was the only logical, scientific explanation. But his gut told him something was terribly wrong.

He pulled his gaze away from the hallway, forcing his face back into its usual, untouchable mask, and took long strides toward the director's monitors.

On the other side of the set, Karina finally burst into the craft service area.

She walked right past the bowls of organic kale salad and locked her eyes on the hot food cart in the corner. She grabbed two double cheeseburgers and a massive cup of iced cola.

Finding an empty corner, she shoved the burger into her mouth, chewing aggressively, completely abandoning any image of Hollywood grace.

The rush of carbs and fat instantly smoothed out the violent jitters of her low blood sugar. Color began to seep back into her pale cheeks.

As she chewed, she replayed the encounter with Jefferson in her head, mentally scoffing at the rumors of his 'untouchable' status.

Meanwhile, Jefferson reached the monitors. Arthur saw him and immediately rushed over, his face glowing with excitement.

But Jefferson wasn't listening to the greetings. Inside his head, the voice was still there, fainter now, but distinct.

[Oh my god... this cheese... so good... one more bite...]

A strange, twisted expression crossed Jefferson's face. He took a black coffee from an assistant and took a long sip, trying to use the bitter taste to drown out the bizarre experience.

He knew for a fact that the woman named Karina was nowhere in his line of sight. Yet, he could 'hear' the pure, unadulterated joy she was getting from eating trash food.

He pulled out his phone, opened the browser, and typed: [Symptoms and treatments for auditory hallucinations caused by severe fatigue. ] He hit search.

Jefferson stared at the medical articles on his screen about 'schizophrenia' and 'neurological auditory hallucinations.' His frown deepened, a dark irritation clawing at his chest.

Just then, a sickeningly sweet wave of perfume hit his nose.

Candice Meadows walked up to the monitors, her face arranged into a mask of pitiful innocence.

"Jeff, what a surprise to see you here," Candice said, lowering her voice to sound breathy and vulnerable, angling her face to show off her best side. "We had a little accident on set earlier. I'm so embarrassed you had to see that."

Jefferson calmly locked his phone and slid it into his pocket. He gave her a freezing side-eye and leaned back, putting physical distance between himself and her suffocating perfume.

"I was just passing by to see Arthur," he said. His tone was dead flat. He didn't offer her a single extra syllable.

Candice's fake smile twitched, but she quickly recovered, opening her mouth to try again.

Arthur cut her off completely.

"Jeff! Perfect timing! You will not believe what I just caught on camera!" Arthur yelled, completely ignoring Candice's awkward presence.

Arthur's fingers flew across the control board. He pulled up the unedited long take from a few minutes ago-the exact moment Karina caught Candice's wrist and dominated the entire room with a single look.

Jefferson's eyes locked onto the screen.

When he saw the dead, bloodthirsty look in Karina's eyes, his pupils contracted sharply.

This was the exact same woman who, just moments ago, had stumbled into him because of low blood sugar, screaming in her head about wanting a burger. The contrast was staggering.

On the screen, she looked like a drawn blade. The raw, oppressive power radiating from her was so authentic that even Jefferson, a two-time Oscar winner, felt a jolt of genuine awe.

"Look at those micro-expressions! Look at the tension in her jaw!" Arthur slapped his thigh in excitement. "She's a genius! All those PR articles calling her a talentless vase are pure bullshit!"

Standing next to them, Candice watched her own pathetic, stumbling fall on the monitor. Her fingernails dug so hard into her palms they almost broke the skin. Jealousy ripped through her chest like a saw.

She couldn't let Jefferson think highly of that bitch. Candice took a deep breath and let out a dramatic, helpless sigh.

"Karina has been acting really strange today," Candice said softly. "It's probably because Kole is about to go on that reality dating show with her. She's just putting on this edgy act to get his attention."

Candice smoothly dropped the gossip, trying to reduce Karina's stunning performance to the desperate tactics of a obsessed ex-girlfriend.

Jefferson turned his head. His deep, amber eyes swept over Candice's hypocritical face, slicing through her dirty little calculation in a second.

"Is that so?" Jefferson's voice was quiet, but it carried a terrifying weight. "Because from where I'm standing, the way she looked at you... she genuinely wanted to kill you."

The words choked Candice. The blood drained from her face, leaving her pale and trembling. She took a step back, unable to form a single word of defense.

Right at that moment, the crisp voice echoed in Jefferson's brain again.

[Burp- This iced cola is literally giving me life! If only I had some fried chicken to go with it. ]

The corner of Jefferson's mouth twitched upward. It was a microscopic movement, but the heavy irritation caused by his supposed 'hallucinations' miraculously vanished.

He turned his head toward the craft service area in the distance. He couldn't see clearly through the crowd, but he knew exactly where she was-hiding in a corner, burping without a shred of dignity.

Arthur caught that fleeting smile. "Jeff? Are you interested in her?"

Jefferson pulled his gaze back, his face returning to its untouchable coldness. "Her acting is passable. Which is more than I can say for some vases who only know how to spray perfume."

The insult hit Candice like a physical slap across the face. Her cheeks burned a dark, humiliated red. She bit her lower lip so hard she tasted copper.

Realizing she was only humiliating herself further, Candice muttered a weak excuse, grabbed her assistant, and fled the monitor area like a beaten dog.

Once inside her luxury trailer, Candice swept every expensive bottle of makeup off her vanity. They shattered against the floor. Her chest heaved violently.

"Call the gossip blogs right now!" Candice screamed at her assistant. "Leak the story that Karina threw a diva fit and assaulted me on set! I want her cyberbullied into the ground before that reality show even airs!"

The assistant shrank back, pulling out her phone to contact the troll farms. A massive storm of public hatred was already brewing in the dark corners of the internet.

Back on set, Karina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her stomach was full. She stood up, ready to finish the last scene of this miserable day.