The blank page

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"The Blank Page"_
I stared at my laptop screen, cursor blinking tauntingly. My mind was as dry as the Sahara desert. I'd been working on this script for months, but every scene felt forced, every joke flat.

"Write something funny,"i commanded herself, typing and deleting the same sentence for the tenth time.

But my  brain refused to cooperate. The pressure was mounting. My producer, Rachel, was breathing down her neck, and the studio was threatening to replace me with a "fresh face."

As i sipped her lukewarm coffee, my gaze wandered to the Hollywood Hills outside my window. I'd always dreamed of writing a hit rom-com. Now, with a looming deadline and zero inspiration, panic set in.

My phone buzzed, shrill in the silence.

Fear of picking the call but I gat no choice

"Emily  where's the revised script?" Rachel asked, her voice firm but laced with concern.

My  stomach twisted.

"Almost done," i lied, trying to sound confident.

Rachel sighed. "Emily, we need this script yesterday. The investors are getting antsy."

"I know, Rachel. I'm on it."

"Good. I'll send Jack Harrison's team your latest draft. They're interested in attaching him to the project."

My heart skipped a beat. Jack Harrison? The charming, talented, and notoriously difficult actor? Working with him would be a dream come true – and a potential nightmare.

"Great," i said, trying to sound professional.

"Keep me posted," Rachel said before hanging up.

I slumped back in her chair, staring blankly at my screen. Why was this so hard? I'd written countless scripts, made people laugh and cry. But this one...this one felt different.

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