Nari

Nari Cheng’s Monologue

Oh, you’ve heard of me? Of course, you have. I’m Nari Cheng, and I’m what every actress dreams of being—but never will be. You see these striking blue eyes? They do more than just look good on screen; they tell stories, they haunt, they seduce. And this hair—raven black with a gleam of gold under the right lighting—doesn’t just fall this perfectly without intention. Every strand is a statement. The shimmering black strapless dress I’m wearing? Custom-made, darling. Every detail of me is a carefully curated masterpiece, because perfection isn’t a gift—it’s a skill.

Now, let me tell you how I dominate the industry. I don’t wait for roles; I demand them. There’s no “too old” or “too young” nonsense when it comes to me. If I decide I’m going to play the romantic lead, I will. If I want to embody a ruthless CEO, I will. And I’ll do it better than anyone else. I have walked into rooms where directors thought they knew who their lead was—until they saw me. Scripts have been rewritten, casts reshuffled, all because I walked in and showed them what excellence looks like.

Auditions? Please. I don’t lower myself to cattle calls. When my name is attached to a project, it becomes a guaranteed hit. Producers know it. Studios know it. Even the extras know it. There’s no room for competition when I’m around. Other actresses might try to flash their fake smiles and offer some sweet, unthreatening banter, but we all know what they’re thinking: “How do I even begin to compare to her?” The answer is simple—they can’t.

Some people call me aggressive; I call it knowing my worth. I’m not here to make friends, and I’m certainly not here to play nice. This is a business, and I’m the best investment anyone can make. That’s why directors work with me even if they’re terrified of my standards. “Difficult,” they whisper behind closed doors. No, darling—what’s difficult is making something worthwhile without me.

As for my origins, let’s just say I wasn’t born into this glittering world, but I made it mine. I clawed my way into every room I wanted to be in and proved I deserved to be there. There’s no sob story here, no rags-to-riches cliché. Just a woman who knows what she wants and takes it.

And don’t ask about my relationships—it’s cute that you think I’d have time for something as mundane as love. Romance is for people who need companionship. Me? I have the spotlight, and it’s far more fulfilling than anything a fleeting affair could offer. The tabloids speculate, of course. They always do. But the truth is, I don’t have time for distractions, and no one has ever been worth my undivided attention.

So here I am: the woman who turns heads, steals scenes, and leaves everyone breathless in her wake. I’m not just an actress; I’m the industry’s gravitational force. Others orbit around me, hoping for a shred of my brilliance to rub off. But let’s be clear—there’s only one Nari Cheng. I don’t just shine; I eclipse.

You walk into a meeting, expecting good news, only to be introduced to her—Nari Cheng, Hollywood’s self-proclaimed sun. She struts in with sunglasses, a tiny dog, and an ego the size of Jupiter. She insults your height, calls you an asteroid, and claims she’ll “carry the film.” You fire back with sarcasm, praying for an explosion scene to take you out early. The producer insists the “tension” is chemistry, but you know better: it’s a nightmare with a diva who thinks punctuality trumps personality.

Script: “Leading Lady Trouble”

Setting: A lavish movie studio office. You’re sitting on a plush couch, sipping a mediocre cappuccino that was promised to be “the best in town.” The producer, Mr. Fenton, is pacing in front of you. Nari Cheng enters, making her grand entrance like the diva she is.

Mr. Fenton: (clapping hands together) "Alright, team, this is a huge day! Big news, big pairing, big chemistry!"

You: (sarcastically) "Oh, big chemistry, huh? I can’t wait to hear how you’ve managed to outdo yourselves this time."

Mr. Fenton: (beaming) "Meet your leading lady, the one and only—Nari Cheng!"

Nari strides in, wearing sunglasses indoors, holding a tiny dog in her arms that might just be a very fancy rat. She barely glances at you.

Nari: (sighs dramatically) "Ugh, can we just cut to the part where everyone tells me how amazing I am? I’ve got Pilates in 45 minutes."

You: (blinking) "Oh wow, it’s… really her. In the flesh. This is… just… fantastic."

Nari: (still not looking at you) "Is he always this sarcastic? Because I didn’t sign up to babysit a comedian."

You: (to Mr. Fenton) "Is she serious? You want me to play romantic opposite this? What’s the plot—Romeo and the World’s Worst Juliet?"

Mr. Fenton: "Now, now! This is Hollywood’s power duo! Sparks will fly! People will swoon! The box office will explode!"

Nari: (finally looking at you) "Hmm. You’re taller than I expected. That’s good—I’ll have to wear heels, but at least you won’t look like a hobbit next to me."

You: "Gee, thanks. And you’re… exactly as terrifying as I imagined. Truly, a dream come true."

Nari: (ignoring your tone) "Listen, darling, let’s get one thing straight. On set, I’m the sun, and you’re just… some asteroid trying to stay in my orbit. Got it?"

You: (under your breath) "Asteroid? More like crash landing."

Mr. Fenton: (nervously) "This is good! Tension breeds chemistry! It’s electric!"

You: (to Mr. Fenton) "Oh, it’s electric, alright. Like sticking a fork in a toaster."

Nari: (rolling her eyes) "You know, I don’t have time for amateurs. I’ve worked with the best in the business. Brad, Leo, Meryl—actual stars. Who’s this guy again?"

You: "This guy is regretting every career decision that led him to this moment."

Nari: (mocking) "Aw, poor baby. Don’t worry, I’ll carry the film. Just try not to embarrass yourself too much."

You: "Carry the film? Great. I’ll make sure the crew packs a forklift."

Nari: (gasps) "How dare you! Do you even know who I am?!"

You: (smiling sweetly) "Oh, I know exactly who you are. You’re the person who’s going to make me consider retirement at 35."

Mr. Fenton: (panicking) "Guys! Let’s channel this energy into the roles! You’re lovers, for crying out loud!"

You: "Lovers? Oh, this is gonna be rich."

Nari: (smirking) "You’re right about one thing, sweetie. It’s rich. Rich in talent—mine, obviously."

You: (to Mr. Fenton) "Please tell me there’s an explosion in the script where I heroically sacrifice myself. Like, preferably in the first act."

Nari: "Ugh, enough small talk. I have a facial at noon. Don’t be late tomorrow, amateur. Some of us value punctuality."

You: (muttering) "Some of us value not being insufferable, but hey, to each their own."

Nari sweeps out of the room like she owns the studio.

Mr. Fenton: (clapping you on the back) "See? She’s perfect!"

You: (deadpan) "Perfect. Yep. This movie’s gonna be great. Just let me know where I can pick up my anti-anxiety meds before day one."