[BL] Dear Hushand, I want divorce-Chapter 39: Is he avoiding me?

Ash’s pov ;

~~~Three days later~~~

"Ash is a violent thug! He has no place in this industry!"

"He’s only here because he’s sleeping with the CEO. Disgusting!"

"Awww my poor baby Benji."

"Boycott the show until they fire Ash! We don’t support abusers!"

"How dare he hit my husband? My poor baby deserves justice!"

"Look at him, attacking poor Benji. He should be in jail, not on our screens!"

"He’s nothing but a dirty manwhore. No talent, just sells his body for roles!"

The more comments I read, the sicker I felt. The fans weren’t just angry; they were vicious.

And I’m one hundred percent sure it was all Benji’s doing. He’s the one who spread the video of me hitting him.

"Our company has taken care of the online headlines as much as we can," Daniel informed me as I scrolled through the negative comments. The fans are going crazy.

"But Benji’s fans are demanding your boycott. They want you out of the show," Daniel continued. "The situation has gotten so bad that we are going to increase your protection. There are people outside the company, outside your home. It’s...intense."

I nodded numbly, barely processing his words.

Because my thoughts were somewhere else. "Is Elijah done with his meeting?"

"He...no. He’s still in the meeting," Daniel hesitated. Another lie.

I shot him a glare. "It’s his tenth meeting today. How many meetings does he have in one day?"

Unable to meet my gaze, he averted his eyes. "Mr. Stone is...busy lately. If you have any message for him I can tell him for you."

Elijah is trying to avoid me.

It’s been three days since I last saw him. He stopped coming home and staying at the company. And whenever we cross paths, he won’t even spare me a glance. It’s not like I want to see him 24 hours a day, and I’m glad not to have the annoying bastard irritating me all the time. Yet, it irks me why he’s suddenly acting this way.

And it all started that day when I had a meltdown in his office.

"Mr. Blackthorn," Daniel begins, clearing his throat. "The director of the show mentioned to Mr. Stone that they should consider changing the role or maybe taking you off the main lead since the drama is already getting so much hate. But Mr. Stone didn’t agree with him."

I furrow my eyebrows and look up at him. "And why are you telling me this?"

He sighs. "Mr. Stone told the director that he only believes his own eyes. You passed the audition, hence the role is yours. And no one could take this role from you."

Elijah defended me? Now, that’s strange. I kept a serious face. "So?"

"So," Daniel continues, "I wanted you to know that he isn’t always so hard on you. He may not show it, but he cares for you."

I laugh sourly, a bitter sound that echoes in the room. "Cares? Him? What makes you think that?

Daniel gives me an odd look. "After working with him for years, I understand that much. His way of showing care is different, but it’s there."

I still don’t understand it. But I nod my head anyway. "If you say so."

"Everything will be fine," he let out, offering a reassuring smile. And I could see he was trying to cheer me up.

So, for his sake, I smiled back and nodded.

However, nothing got better, even after a month.

The shooting of the show started, and I’m busier than ever, spending most of my time on set. Elijah barely returns home. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I miss seeing him. But that isn’t my only problem.

On the set, the atmosphere was extremely toxic. Every time I walked onto the set, I could feel the weight of the cast and crew’s judgmental stares. They all believed I had stolen the role from another actor. Their glares were sharp enough to cut through my confidence and make each day unbearable.

During filming, I noticed my scenes were being drastically cut. In the past, I would get most of the screen time as the main lead but now, I feel lucky enough to get a few lines. Even during the live events, I was avoided like the plague. If I appeared on screen, viewers would explode in outrage and threaten to boycott the show. It was as if my presence alone was a curse. So, the crew kicked me out of the live streams.

The first episode’s release was the worst. I was the main lead, yet I was practically nonexistent throughout the show. Watching the episode, my face barely appeared, and when it did, it was in inconsequential scenes. I felt a deep sense of embarrassment and humiliation.

The makeup team also made it clear where I stood in their eyes. They always did my makeup last, often making me wait for hours while they pampered the other actors. By the time it was my turn, their enthusiasm had waned, and their efforts were half-hearted at best. My makeup looked rushed and subpar, adding to my sense of isolation.

During breaks, the cast would gather together, laughing and chatting, but when I tried to approach them, their conversations would abruptly stop. It was as if I carried a contagious disease. I often found myself sitting alone, pretending to be engrossed in my script, but the loneliness gnawed at me.

Costume fittings were another source of my distress. The wardrobe team seemed to deliberately give me ill-fitting or unflattering clothes. While the other actors looked impeccable, my costumes were either too tight or too loose, making me feel even more out of place.

The director’s attitude was no better. He rarely gave me feedback or direction, treating me worse than a side character. When he did speak to me, it was with a tone of impatience and disdain, as if he couldn’t wait for me to leave. I would often find myself trying to hold back my tears when he scolded me in front of everyone when it would not even be my fault.

Even the stagehands and crew members were cold. They would bump into me "accidentally," and my props would mysteriously go missing. My scenes were often shot hurriedly, with minimal attention to detail, making it clear that they just wanted to get rid of me.

Each day on set was a struggle, a constant battle to maintain my composure and dignity in the face of relentless hostility. The pressure and mistreatment were suffocating, and there were times when I questioned why I was putting myself through this. But deep down, I knew I had to endure it for my career and my own sense of self-worth.

I had begged Elijah for this role so I couldn’t just leave everything behind and run away no matter how much pain and sorrow I was in.

Currently, I was sitting alone at the edge of the set, a takeout container balanced on my lap. The rest of the cast were gathered at a large table, laughing and talking animatedly. Sometimes I could feel their eyes on me, it would make my face flush in humiliation, but most of the time I would pretend as if I wasn’t bothered at all.

"You should try eating with them," Jiya, my sportgirl—I guess I could call her my personal assistant or PA, but "sportgirl" fits her sunny, energetic personality better—walked over, her expression sympathetic.

She is always trying to make things easier for me, but even she couldn’t change the hostile environment on set.

I shook my head, forcing a casual smile. It’s not like I haven’t tried. But the atmosphere gets dark and awkward whenever I’m around. And they will still treat me as if I wasn’t sitting there and they couldn’t see me. So, it’s better this way.

Jiya gave me a pitiful look, her eyes filled with concern. "But you look so lonely. It can’t be fun eating by yourself every day."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off. "I’m fine on my own. Besides, I’m used to it."

As I picked at my food, my thoughts drifted back to the past. Even Elijah never ate with me.

Whenever I asked him to join me for a meal, he always had an excuse. Too busy with work, too tired, meetings, calls, anything to avoid sitting down to eat with me. It wasn’t just on set that I felt alone, it was at home too. I had even learned to cook, hoping it would encourage him to spend more time with me, but he was never home on time.

I remember the disappointment I felt every time I prepared a meal, only to find his side of the table empty.

So, eating alone became a routine for me, an isolation that seemed to follow me everywhere. It wasn’t that I hated eating alone, I just have grown accustomed to it. It was a constant reminder that no matter how hard I tried, I could never truly reach Elijah.

"How about I join you, then? I mean, if you don’t mind." Jiya’s voice pulled me out of my reverie.

I looked at her in surprise. Her offer was genuine, and for once, I felt a flicker of warmth amidst the cold indifference from around me. I laughed softly and nodded. "Sure, why not? I’d like that."

She smiled and sat down beside me, opening her own lunch. We ate in comfortable silence for a while, and I realised that maybe eating alone wasn’t so bad, but having someone to share a meal with was undeniably better.