Nora relaxes in her dressing room

Nora closed the door of her dressing room and sat down in her chair in front of her makeup table. She leaned back, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Production had been much more intense than it had been when it started. Sarah's change had contributed to it but she was also sure that she was worn out from shooting.

At that moment, she heard a soft knock on the door. She snapped her eyes open and walked across the room to the door. Her eyes narrowed as she opened the door and saw Damien standing there with a small smile on her face. He was the last person that she wanted to see.

"May I come in?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

"What do you want Mr. Blake?" she snapped.

Damien put up his hands, his palms opened in surrender. "I just wanted to check on you and see if you were okay," he answered with calm assurance, "You seemed a little preoccupied."

Nora let out a sigh. She reluctantly stepped aside and Damien brushed past her and into her dressing room. Damien turned to face her, a serious look on his face. "I saw your dustup with Sarah," he stated, "I hope you two are okay."

Nora's eyes flashed with defiance as she stared Damien down. "Okay!?" she gasped, "Look at what you did to her. She was a sweet girl and you turned her into a harlot."

Damien's gaze was calm and his demeanor unflappable. "Sarah is a grown woman capable of making her own choices," he said, his voice steady.

She crossed her arms, her stare never leaving his. "She didn't choose this. You used your power and influence to manipulate her."

"I did nothing of the sort," he scoffed, "She is discovering herself and she came to me for advice. All I did was help her."

She watched him look over all of the books on her shelf: The Feminine Mystique, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, The Second Sex. He tilted his head as he examined them. "Quite the collection you have here Nora," he said as he changed the subject, "I'm curious. What drives you to be such a vocal advocate of feminism and women's rights?"

Nora's expression shifted, taken aback by the change in subject. She hesitated before answering, "Why do you care?" she asked, her voice wary.

A small smile crossed Damien's face, "Curiosity," he answered with sincerity, "I always try to understand the world around me."

Nora considered him for a moment. It could be a trap, a way for him to trick her somehow. However when she looked at him, she didn't sense any deception. God, those eyes. Why did he have to be so handsome? She crossed her arms and her shoulders slumped, brushing those thoughts away, "I want women to have the same rights and freedoms as anyone else. I want us to be able to live our lives the way we want, not by how society wants us to live," she replied, "I want us to have the same agency and independence as anyone else. I want us to be able to have control over our own bodies and how we present ourselves without being shamed for it. Not that you would understand any of that."

Much to her surprise, he seemed to be considering her words. There was no witty comeback or wry insult that she had expected. "On the contrary. I think you should have all of those things too," he replied. He paused before he continued, "In theory, the basic principals of feminism make sense: gender equality, freedom and self-determination. However from what I've seen of it, there is one thing I don't understand. How can a philosophy that espouses equality, freedom and tolerance so contradict those ideals by shouting down and insulting anyone who refuses to go along with a rigid, dogmatic version of its ideology? Whenever a woman like Sarah decides to embrace her sexuality and power, she is shamed and told that she is a self-hating woman who only does it to please men? Whenever someone behaves badly and gets called out for it, they are accused of being a misogynistic jerk who hates women? How does that make sense?"

Nora flushed with anger, "So are you saying that everything is our fault?" she asked with anger in her voice.

"Not at all," Damien answered, not bothered at all by her outburst, "It just seems to me that feminism in its current iteration is an ideology that is deep denial about itself. It preaches equality among the genders but only when it benefits them. It preaches tolerance and understanding but it only practices them towards women who act a certain way."

Nora took a step back and her chest tightened as his words struck a chord with her. However, she couldn't back down from him. She had to stand up for her beliefs. "You're just trying to confuse me," she scoffed.

He remained calm, "I'm trying to help you Nora," he said, his voice steady and sincere, "Let me ask you something. When was the last time you did something, not because it fit with your rigid beliefs but because you wanted it? Isn't that what feminism should be about? The freedom to do what you want and not have to conform to what someone else's version of a strong, independent woman should be? Or have they brainwashed you so much that you are you afraid of your own sexuality?"

Nora's breath came in short, sharp gasps, "I'm not afraid," she spat.

He chucked, a sound that grated on her nerves, "Then prove it," he replied, a challenge, "Strip for me."

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in a silent 'O'. "What did you just say to me?" she asked in shock and anger.

"Strip for me Nora," he repeated, "Prove to me that you're not afraid of your sexuality."

"I will not strip for you or anyone else," Nora shot back as she stared right back at him in defiance.

Damien smirked, "Why not? Are you afraid?" he asked, his voice low and coaxing.

Nora's breath hitched and her chest tightened. She knew that he was provoking her but she felt a surge of pride within her that couldn't allow his remarks to stand unchallenged. She had to do something to put that smug son of a bitch in his place.