@nexuseros_: The new series was announced without warning. A romantic project pairing Charlotte and Faye, full of soft glances and carefully written confessions. The fans celebrated. The industry praised the casting. Engfa read the headlines once and closed her laptop. She did not attend the final weeks of the previous project she had been directing. When the crew arrived one morning to find a different director already reviewing the remaining shots, confusion spread quickly. No explanation was given. Engfa had simply withdrawn. She disappeared the way she always did when the weight of loving from a distance became too heavy. Charlotte searched for her. Quietly at first, then with growing urgency. She asked the production team, checked the usual places Engfa used to stay late reviewing footage, even waited outside the office building after hours. Nothing. Engfa was gone. Charlotte began to believe Engfa was hiding on purpose, that the sight of her with Faye on every promotional poster had finally driven her away for good. Charlotte still wanted to ask if Engfa still loved her, if there was any chance left to fix what they had broken years ago. But the answer never came. After the final shoot wrapped, Faye collapsed. The diagnosis arrived fast and merciless: advanced heart disease. She needed a transplant. Charlotte visited the hospital every day. They had become real friends by then—Faye gentle and open, Charlotte quietly protective. She sat by the bed, held Faye’s hand when the pain was bad, and promised she would stay until everything was over. Engfa was in the same hospital. The accident the night before had been sudden and sharp. Mild bruises, nothing the doctors considered serious. She was conscious, scheduled for discharge within days. Then she overheard the nurses speaking about the young actress on the cardiac floor who needed a new heart and might not survive the wait. Engfa understood at once. Charlotte loved Faye. That was the only explanation that made sense of every public smile, every shared scene, every trend that had once cut her so deeply. If Faye died, Charlotte would break. Engfa could not allow that. So she made another sacrifice. She signed the papers quietly. The waiver. The consent forms. Everything required to offer her own heart. Anonymous. Immediate. She told no one. In her mind it was simple: if Charlotte could keep the person she loved, then Engfa’s absence would finally mean something useful. She could still make Charlotte happy, even if she would never see it. When the doctors informed Faye that an anonymous donor had been found, Faye hesitated. She wanted a name, a face, some way to thank the person who was giving her a second chance. The hospital refused. Protocol. Charlotte sat beside her and spoke softly. “Whoever it is only wanted you to stay alive. That’s enough.” Faye agreed. The transfer to the operating theatre began. Faye was wheeled away first. Moments later the donor’s gurney followed the same corridor. Charlotte stood near the nurses’ station, waiting for any update, when the second bed passed beneath the bright fluorescent lights. She saw the face. Engfa. Charlotte’s world stopped. She ran. Her voice broke as she called Engfa’s name, hands reaching for the still figure on the bed. Tears fell without permission. The doctors moved quickly to stop her. “She’s not the donor,” one of them said firmly. “Someone else came forward. Miss Waraha is not qualified after the accident last night. We’re only moving her to another room.” Charlotte’s eyes dropped to the bruises along Engfa’s arm and collarbone. Real. Fresh. The nurses confirmed it again: Engfa would be transferred, nothing more. No operation. No sacrifice completed. Charlotte followed the bed without hesitation. She turned only once to Faye’s family and friends, voice raw. “I need to be with her.” They let her go. They had seen the way she looked at Engfa—the pure, broken recognition of someone who had just found the only person she had ever truly loved. #englot #au

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Saturday 12 September 2026 14:03:19 GMT