A FATAL FEUD
Arrayed in lemon-yellow silk, Harper Moore holds an Emmy. In azure, Nadine Heywood steps to the stage to receive her Golden Globe. In chartreuse, she collects a BAFTA. In gold, in rose, in black … the trophies blur, the actresses fade into one another.
Nadine Heywood: I was pleased when Harper won the Emmy. I had a BAFTA and a Golden Globe by that point; it was about time she started to catch up. But when Gilded debuted … Well, Harper’s always gleefully lapped up my scraps.
Jasmine McKenna: Oh, that was quite the campaign. That’s something to be said for most of Harper’s projects: They’ve always known how to cash in on the rivalry.
Harper sits in an orange swivel chair, smiling at a studio audience. Moreno, host of Thank God It’s Friday, smirks a conspiratorial grin. “So,” he asks. “Is it true Nadine Heywood originally turned down the part of Estelle?”
Harper laughs. “I couldn’t possibly say—but it would make sense. Nadine’s always had notoriously poor taste.”
Kayla Alexander: But that’s the thing—to Harper it’s always just been a way to ramp up publicity and churn up a box office. She doesn’t have a hateful bone in her body. It’s Nadine who made it all personal and serious.
A fight in a bar, two hazy figures flying at each other. Harper, her pink top torn at the shoulder, is led off, hands cuffed behind her back as two police officers force her into a car.
Ivan Drozdov: It was a big year for Nadine. She’d won two awards but … Well, look at all she’s achieved. Was it ever enough for her? She doesn’t know how to be satisfied, just how to want more. So, yes, she was jealous.
In purple-hued silver, Harper Moore climbs a stage and receives a golden trophy of a man with arms tucked tight. She smiles at the crowd, Oscar gripped almost carelessly as the cast of Gilded rise to their feet.
Nadine Heywood: Yes, yes, she won an Academy Award for a role I turned down.
So what? I had more trophies. And Supporting Actress hardly counts, anyway.
Besides, even I can admit she deserved it.
I certainly wasn’t wasting my time trying to one-up a mediocre actress.
Her performance was transcendent. If I felt anything, it would have been a vague sort of itch to achieve more—but I wasn’t focused on her at all.
If you remember, darling, I was a touch preoccupied that night.