Transmigrated as a Cannon Fodder Reject, Then Became a Movie Star-Chapter 76: Creamy Swirl

On her way home—in the same car that had been shuttling her to and from the hospital—a call came in. The name Shane flashed across the screen.

He was probably calling about the apartment. Two days ago, he’d sent her two options, and she’d picked the one in Brooklyn.

She swiped to answer. "Hello?"

"Erisia, how have you been?" His voice was smooth, polite—the same measured tone he always used.

"I’ve been fine," she replied lightly. "But I doubt that’s why you called. I’m guessing the apartment’s been arranged?"

"Yes," Shane said. "It’s been bought, furnished, and is ready for you to move in. If you’d like, I can contact an interior decorator to—"

"No need," she interrupted gently. "I’ll have to see it first before deciding whether it needs decorating."

"Of course," he said, pausing for a moment. "Dad’s been wanting to see you again, but he hasn’t found an excuse to. I was hoping you might invite him to your apartment after you move in. But if you’d rather not, that’s perfectly alright."

"Mm, okay," Erisia said as she settled back against the seat, eyes tracing the faint reflections of city lights against the darkening sky, across the dark window. "I’m free tomorrow, so I can take a look at the apartment. I was wondering if you were free to come pick me and my friend up?"

Shane chuckled softly on the other end. "Sure. Just send me the address, and I’ll come in the morning."

Erisia smiled. "Come early then, so we can finish quickly. I might have something to do by noon."

"Alright."

"Greet Father for me—I’ll call him when I’m free."

"Okay. See you tomorrow, Erisia."

"Mm. See you tomorrow. Bye."

The call ended, and Erisia placed her phone on her lap before taking out her earpods. She connected them and played a soft rain sound track from her music app.

Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes. The gentle rhythm of raindrops filled her ears, and gradually, she felt drowsy—her body easing into the plush leather seat as the car rolled smoothly through the city.

Just as she was drifting off, a series of ding, ding, ding notification chimes cut through the soundscape. Frowning, she blinked her eyes open, grabbed her phone, and turned the screen on.

It was a message from Cassian—his reply to her earlier texts.

Because he’d been busy filming the climax of his latest movie, Erisia had suggested they just chat whenever he was free. She didn’t want to interrupt his schedule, but she’d told him she wanted to talk with him and Beatrice about something important. When he asked what, she explained that she wanted to pursue acting.

He’d immediately called her mid-break—half in disbelief, half happiness—and confirmed twice that she was serious. Then he’d laughed, saying he was surprised but intrigued. If Erisia really could act, he said, it would be a pleasant surprise. He agreed to meet her once filming wrapped.

Now, his messages read:

⸻

| Cassian:

{I finished filming earlier than scheduled. The director decided to cut a few scenes, so we wrapped up sooner than expected.}

{I told Beatrice, and she was shocked—she says she wants to see and talk to you herself. So, what do you think about meeting tomorrow?}

{If that’s cool, send me the time and place. Oh, and just a heads-up—we still have to attend the wrap party later tonight. I’ll message you again after that.}

| Erisia:

{Congratulations on completing your first movie, Cassian!}

{Sure, I’m free by noon tomorrow. Let’s meet at 1 p.m. at L’Adresse NoMad restaurant.}

{Enjoy yourself tonight—no need to message me. Just take care of yourself, and don’t drink too much. See you tomorrow.}

After sending the message, she watched the screen for a moment, half-expecting the "typing" bubble to appear. It didn’t.

Cassian was probably already surrounded by people, champagne glasses clinking, everyone celebrating the months’ of hard work.

Turning off her phone, she placed it face down beside her and leaned back again, letting the sound of the rain fill her ears once more.

High in the sky, the morning sun streamed gently over Astoria, gilding rooftops and catching on the glass windows of apartment buildings. The streets below were beginning to stir—the faint rumble of traffic, the hiss of buses braking at stops, and the chatter of people heading out for brunch or errands.

Inside Rita and Erisia’s apartment, chaos was unfolding.

Rita was everywhere at once—from the wardrobe to the mirror to her pile of cosmetics—muttering to herself as she alternated between curling her hair and trying on earrings. A faint scent of hair spray hung in the air.

"We’re just checking out an apartment, Rita. There’s no need for all this fuss," Erisia said dryly as she sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone while swinging her slipper-clad feet. "And Shane is no one special."

Rita turned, her hair half-curled. "He’s your brother, and the vice CEO of a company who must be very busy all the time—but still made time to drive us over. We have to make a good impression, right?"

"Wrong." Erisia set her leg down and sat up. "It’s Sunday. I asked if he was free, and he agreed to pick us up willingly. So there’s no need to impress anyone. Besides, we’re estranged siblings, remember?"

Rita sighed dramatically and nodded. "Alright, fine. But I’m not wearing or doing anything over the top." She twirled in front of the mirror. "See? Just a light brown and white patterned cardigan with big buttons, a white pleated skirt, black sheer tights, and white-and-brown chunky sneakers."

"Yeah, and your hair is so bouncy it looks like it’s been curled a thousand times," Erisia teased. "You look cute, but it doesn’t fit you."

Rita stuck out her tongue, and Erisia returned the gesture with a perfectly casual middle finger.

Before Rita could retort, Erisia’s phone rang. She glanced down—Shane.

"Shane’s calling," she said, standing up as she answered. "Hello, good morning."

A smooth voice came through the speaker.

"It was fine, yours?" she replied, walking toward the window. "You’re here?"

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. "Downstairs? Yeah, we’re—" she glanced at the sneakers by the couch "—almost done."

"Mm, we’ll be down soon," she said before hanging up.

She slipped on her sneakers, grabbed her bag, and headed to her room. Rein, her sleepy little cat, was curled up on the bed in the corner. Erisia smiled softly before closing and locking the door behind her.

When she returned to the living room, Rita was finishing up—dropping her keys, lip gloss, glasses, and purse into her handbag.

"Let’s go."

They stepped out into the crisp morning air. The sun was warm but not harsh, and a faint breeze rustled through the trees lining the street. Down below, a white Range Rover was parked by the curb.

A tall young man stood beside it—black jeans, white shirt, and a black jacket, his dark hair neatly styled and pushed back. The sunlight glinted off his watch as he checked the time.

When he looked up and saw them, his expression eased instantly.

Erisia walked toward him with her usual calm composure, while Rita, slightly behind, whispered, "He’s taller than I expected."

Shane gave a faint smile as they approached. "Good morning Erisia."

"Morning brother," Erisia replied. "Hope you didn’t wait too long." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"Not at all," he said, opening the back door for them. "You must be Rita?"

Rita smiled brightly. "Yes! Thank you for the ride."

He nodded politely before turning to Erisia. "I thought we’d stop by a café on the way, if you don’t mind. There’s one near the apartment you might like."

"That’s fine," she said, sliding into the car. "It’s just 7:20 am, you are as punctual as ever."

He smiled faintly. "Habit, sorry."

Erisia chuckled, "I was just messing with you, Shane."

As the Range Rover pulled away from the curb, the city drifted by in clean lines and color—shop signs flickering, the hum of traffic, people walking dogs along the sidewalk. Rita was already taking photos through the tinted window, humming quietly to herself.

Shane drove smoothly, occasionally glancing in the rearview mirror. "You’ll like the apartment," he said. "It has a nice view of the river. I thought it might suit you."

"Hmm," Erisia murmured, her gaze following the passing skyline. "We’ll see."

•

After getting their orders—Rita’s elaborate iced caramel latte with extra cream and a chocolate croissant, Erisia’s vanilla iced latte with oat milk and a slice of strawberry shortcake, and Shane’s plain cappuccino with a turkey sandwich—they settled by the wide café window overlooking a quiet Brooklyn street.

The café had that cozy, urban charm—warm lighting, soft indie music, and the gentle hum of conversation from nearby tables. The scent of roasted coffee beans and freshly baked pastries lingered in the air, blending with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.

Rita was the first to speak, her voice animated between bites. "This place is so cute. The croissants are fluffy, the barista’s cute, and the playlist actually makes sense. Ten out of ten."

Erisia stirred her latte lazily, eyes on the creamy swirl. "You’re just saying that because you spotted the barista before you even sat down."

Rita smiled unapologetically. "And? Observation is key to appreciation."