THE PART SHE PLAYED
A s she stood at the entrance of the building, Zina asked herself: What exactly brought me this far? Love? Her passion for acting? Or the reminder of what they owed her? But there were three things Zina knew for sure: One — she was born for the stage. Two — Dare’s smile still did things to her stomach. And three — Obinna still hated her guts. Ivory Reel Productions buzzed with laughter, camera clicks, and the clipped rhythm of ambition. It smelled like stories in the making. She told herself she was just dropping by. A quick hello. A peek at how far they’d come. Zina paused at the glass door' not to check her reflection, but to steady her breath. Inside, nothing had changed: Black-and-white frames of film history. The electric tension of dreams. The scent of sweat, lights, and nerves. They built it together; Dare, Obinna, and Kenna. The three boys who once ruled her childhood like rowdy gods. She was the odd one out back then, the girl they laughed at on the school b...