LIGURIA DISTRICT, CLARE IN IRELAND. HATHAWAY PRODUCTION SET... AROUND 9 PM.
The Hathaway set shimmered in golden gloom, caught somewhere between vintage glamor and modern madness. The production had spilled into another late night, and though the crew bustled with staged urgency... adjusting lights, rewiring mics, sliding screens into shadows... the real tension didn't live in the equipment.
It lived in the spaces between breaths.
Tyra sat quietly in her dressing chair, fingers curled tightly around a lukewarm cup of green tea that had long forgotten it was meant to comfort. The script on her lap blurred at the edges, her eyes weren't reading anymore, they were scanning, watching, avoiding, ignoring.
Avoiding Ryan, who stood across the studio floor pretending to be engrossed in a lighting setup he wasn't part of.
And trying to ignore Iren, who had leaned against the corridor frame, gaze fixed... no smile, no pretense, just that low, unreadable look he has been giving her more often.
"Can he stop that?" Tyra muttered under her breath, not sure if she meant Ryan or Iren.
Bione, ever at her side, caught the twitch in her jaw. "If you mean the broody one with the cheekbones, I'll go set his eyebrows on fire. But if you mean Mr. Tall, Dark and Velvet, Glare? Girl, that's not my fight."
Michael and Elena were absent, they'd gone helping Tyra secure a character in the upcoming famous play, she needed rest, they all advised her to take a month break after they finalized this play but Tyra strongly disagreed, she wanted to act with a different male lead and maybe all the over the place emotions she's feeling with Ryan will dissolve once she gets more intertwined with another male.
Her lips twitched... almost a smile... almost.
"Iren makes me… uneasy."
"That man makes coffee feel nervous." Bione scoffed. "He stares like he's about to write poetry with your bones."
Tyra's stomach twisted.
"Why do they both keep looking at me like I'm the only dessert in a damn famine?"
"Because you are." Bione replied coolly, glancing up just in time to catch Daize breezing through the set with Rebekah's schedule in hand and eyes full of malice.
Here we go, Bione thought.
Daize wore sabotage like perfume... never too heavy, but always there. She locked eyes with Bione for just a beat too long and then disappeared backstage, her smirk the warning.
Tyra hadn't noticed, her attention was on Ryan now... because Ryan had finally stopped pretending. He was watching her, full on, and it was no longer just curiosity.
It was hunger... sheer hunger and desire.
She looked away fast, too fast, her heart slamming loudly against her rub cage, she quickly calmed herself down so that Ryan won't hear the excessive beating of her heart.
God, why did he have to look at her like that? Like he remembered something.
But he couldn't, right?
That night wasn't supposed to mean anything... not with the drugs, not with the way it all blurred out... but every time he looked at her like that, like he was in control of everything, and every damn time, her lungs forgot how to work.
And Iren? He didn't even need memory to unsettle her. His silence was worse than Ryan's smirk, his presence felt... premeditated.
Tyra stood abruptly. "I need to breathe."
Bione followed instantly, waving off a nearby crew member. "Stage B is free." she whispered. "Go pretend to rehearse."
But Rebekah was already there. In front of a mirror, flawless and statuesque in her costume, humming softly as she applied lipstick that matched her mood, seductive with a hint of cruelty.
"Oh, sweetheart." she purred when she saw Tyra. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Just tired." Tyra replied, steeling herself.
Rebekah's assistant Daize entered behind her like a shadow, Bione's eyes narrowed.
"I thought you were rehearsing on Set C?" Tyra asked flatly.
"I switched." Rebekah said sweetly. "I like the lighting better here. It makes me glow, don't you think?"
Tyra didn't answer.
Bione did the answering. "Might want to fix the glow leaking from your teeth."
Daize snorted. "Still doing stand up, Bione? Or is that all you've got?"
The room thickened, silent but bristling.
A sudden call over the intercom broke it. "Ryan and Tyra to rehearsal, scene 47."
Tyra stiffened.
She hadn't touched that scene yet, it was one of the romantic one, the kiss scene. The one with lingering touches and soul searching stares. The one where Rebekah had practically begged to be recast.
Now it was hers and Ryan's.
And Iren would be watching.
Not like he cares, he shouldn't care right?!
But with the way he has been staring at her... she doesn't even wanna think 'bout it.
---
The set was moody old chandeliers overhead, candlelight flickering across velvet covered props. The scene was meant to feel like temptation, it didn't have to try hard.
Ryan was already there, in costume, in mood, in silence.
Tyra stepped onto the set with Bione close behind, who whispered. "Don't panic, just act. You're a professional, not a girl with a secret."
Too late.
Ryan turned, and for a second, the room didn't exist. He looked at her like she was made of questions and slow burning answers.
"You good?" he asked, voice low, unreadable.
"Of course." she said.
But her pulse didn't believe her.
They took their marks, Director Gary muttered something into a headset, cameras rolled.
The scene began.
Ryan stepped close, Tyra tilted her face. The lines came, too easily, like the script was second skin, but the silence between the words was heavier.
"You want me." he whispered in character, hands barely grazing her waist. "Say it."
Her breath hitched. "I don't."
"Liar." His lips hovered.
Tyra didn't know if he was acting anymore.
She didn't know if she was.
When the kiss finally came, it was almost too real. His mouth was soft, firm, slow... but her body locked. Panic flared behind her ribs, her hand jerked to slap him involuntarily, the slap wasn't in the script, the sound rang across the set.
"Cut!" Director Gary shouted in surprise, Tyra wasn't an ordinary actor,she was an A list, so this kind of outburst was more of shock than frustration.
Tyra backed up immediately, breath shallow. "I'm sorry... I just... I need a second."
Ryan didn't move. His jaw was set, but his eyes... they didn't look hurt, they looked like he knew something now, like he was super sure of something.
Rebekah appeared beside Gary moments later, lips pressed in faux concern.
"Accidents happen." she cooed. "Or maybe it wasn't an accident. That scene's a bit... close, don't you think?"
"I'd advise you to shut it Bekeh!" Gary hissed, still in shock.
Iren stepped onto the set then, walking with that quiet, storm slick grace, he didn't speak to anyone, just stared at Tyra.
And she knew.
He knew something too, maybe.
If looked like everyone was starting to know.
She turned on her heel and walked out of the set without another word. Bione followed, whispering orders into her phone, probably organizing Tyra's exit car already.
The scene didn't finish that night.
But it didn't need to.
The real performance had already begun.