𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 , 𝟖𝟎𝐬

26 = pinky promise

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 26th 1987

brandy's point of view

"CUT!" greg yelled, "that's a wrap for today, guys."

i sighed and began to walk to my trailer so i could change. we were on location today at a theater on wilshire boulevard. i'm surprised i haven't gotten heat stroke yet today from how hot it is.

"hey, brandy!" haim called out to me, "wanna grab some lunch after this?"

"yeah, sure! i'll meet you at your trailer once i'm changed."

i met eyes with greg and felt a chill run down my spine. having to continue work with someone you've been assaulted by is a problem i could never wish upon anyone; not even my worst enemy.

i entered my trailer and immediately stripped out of the dress i was in. i then pulled my denim shorts on and black tank top.

there was a knock on my trailer door, "hang on a sec!", but the person ignored me and the door swung open.

i jumped, pulling the rest of my shirt down. it was greg standing in front of me. i felt a wave of ptsd wash over me.

"oops, sorry. i didn't hear you." a lie.

"yeah, i'm sure you didn't." i mumbled, picking up my shoes.

"you've seemed a bit tense every time we film, brandy."

i furrowed my eyebrows at him as i laced up my sneaker.

"it's not ruining the shots but, i wanted to make it clear to you so you could maybe try and get it under control before it does."

i pulled through the last knot of my laces and stood up abruptly.

"yeah, thanks. i'll work on it." i said dryly.

"that's all i'm asking." a stupid grin formed on his face.

i tried to walk towards the door but he was blocking it. this caused me to let out a frustrated sigh.

"you okay?" he asked as his hand reached out to tuck hair behind my ear.

i slapped his wrist away, "don't fucking touch me."

greg scoffed, "you don't have to be such a bitch."

i felt the anger in my veins boil.

"i'm the director of the movie you're getting paid for. the least you can do is show me some respect." he stepped closer to me but my reflexes kicked in and i knees him hard in the leg.

he let out a groan of pain and i let out a single laugh, "you'll never see respect from me."

him yelling out that i was a bitch once more was the last thing i heard as i exited the trailer. i walked past a group of people who were working on packing up the camera equipment once i saw corey was already walking towards me.

"are you alright? you seem pissed." he said, looping next to me to walk the way i was heading.

"i just wanna get out of here."

"was it the director?" i turned to look at corey, "i just saw him leave your trailer." he pointed behind us.

"it was nothing. he's just an asshole." we made it to the end of what was blocked off for filming and there was a good amount of paparazzi trying to get some behind the scenes shots waiting for us.