He stood in the sun’s harsh glare, script in hand, flanked by grips and gaffers—Brad Pitt, ever golden, ever composed. What no one...
He was always just out of frame. A blurred outline in someone else’s spotlight, the steady hand behind the shimmer. Logan Lanier—the man...
She didn’t cry like a daughter. She spoke like someone who’d been professionally haunted. The headline read like a tabloid tearjerker—Kelly Osbourne, grappling...
Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident