In the days that followed, life felt incredibly unreal to Nelly, as the entire team and even some departments of the company revolved around her.
A collection of love story scripts filled up her living room coffee table, with at least twenty or thirty books.
One by one, writers came personally to tell her about the content of their stories and what effect they hoped to achieve.
She sat on the sofa, with a slightly older female assistant beside her, manicuring her hands and buffing her nails.
The male assistant kept putting things in their proper places, despite it being winter and him sweating heavily, yet he flashed a toothy grin saying he wasn't tired.
The broker sat to the side, stern-faced, discussing upcoming details with the writer and the company's producer, as if discussing the ownership of the Best Actress award in this year's Federation Film Awards.
Everything felt so unreal, as if past events were a mistaken dream, or now, everything felt like a beautiful dream.
