Noa barely had a moment to breathe after the disastrous broadcast. Mira had pulled her into the cramped office, lecturing her about "professionalism" and "focus," while Reno lurked just outside the door, making faces through the glass panel.
"…and if something like that happens again, I *will* write you up," Mira snapped. "I like you, Noa, but the station can't afford more screwups."
"Yes, ma'am," Noa muttered, forcing a tight smile. Her stomach churned. She couldn't explain the truth: that her own damn sketch had come to life and nearly sabotaged the show.
The moment Mira turned her back, Noa slipped out the door and grabbed Reno by the arm, dragging him down the hallway. "You. Quiet room. Now."
Reno pouted. "Awww, but I wanted to watch the next segment—"
She shoved him into an unused props closet and slammed the door shut. "You stay *here* and do *not* move or touch *anything*!"
Reno crossed his arms. "Fine. But it's dark in here. And it smells like old cheese."
"Good," Noa spat. "That matches your personality."
She stomped away before she said something worse, ignoring Reno's exaggerated gasp of mock offense.
---
Noa hurried back to the set, where the next pre-recorded segment was about to roll. The bright lights and hum of activity almost settled her nerves—almost. But every so often, her eyes flicked to the dark hallway where she'd left Reno, half-expecting him to burst out yelling her name.
"Everything ready for the guest interview?" Mira asked, scanning her tablet.
"Yeah," Noa said quickly. "The producer said they're bringing him in now—wait, who *is* the guest?"
Mira checked the notes. "Some indie musician. Ren, I think his name was? He just released an album."
Noa's heart skipped a beat. *Ren?!* The *real* Ren. The editor she'd admired for months, the one whose calm voice made her chest flutter every time he asked her to cue a clip.
She smoothed her hair nervously, palms sweating. *Get it together, Noa. He's just a coworker. This is work.*
---
But the universe apparently wasn't done tormenting her.
As the show rolled on, the guest cue light blinked, and Ren—tall, effortlessly cool, wearing a simple gray tee and jeans—stepped onto the set. Noa felt her face burn as he flashed a polite smile at her. *Oh god, he's even more perfect up close…*
She adjusted his mic pack with trembling fingers. "You're on in thirty seconds," she whispered, trying not to stare at his mouth.
"Thanks, Noa," he said, his voice low and gentle.
*He knows my name,* she squealed internally.
---
Suddenly, a loud crash came from the hallway. Noa's eyes widened. She knew that voice. "Noa, baaaabe, you left me in the dark! Also I think I broke a mop, sorryyy!"
*Oh no. No no no no—*
Reno burst out of the hallway, tripping over cables, practically bowling over the cameraman. He was grinning wildly, arms outstretched. "I missed you!"
Ren turned, confused. "Uh… who's that guy?"
Noa grabbed Reno by the shoulders and hissed, "Get BACK inside—"
But Reno planted himself squarely between her and Ren, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "So *this* is the pretty boy you keep drawing, huh? Hmph. Not impressed."
Ren blinked. "Drawing…?"
Noa felt the ground drop out beneath her. "No, wait, it's not—he's just—"
But Reno wasn't done. He draped an arm around Noa's shoulders. "Sorry, buddy, but this show's already got a star. Me."
Noa wanted to scream. Ren looked bewildered, the cameras were seconds from going live, and Reno… Reno was somehow stealing the moment *again*.
"Cut to commercial! CUT!" Mira barked.
The lights flicked out, and chaos erupted. Crew members scrambled, Ren looked half-amused, half-confused, and Noa was *this close* to passing out from sheer mortification.
And Reno? He just kept grinning like the world's worst guardian angel, as if ruining her life was the greatest joke in the universe.
---
*Noa had no idea how to fix this.* But one thing was certain: Reno wasn't going away any time soon. And the more he tangled himself in her real world… the more Noa worried her quiet crush on Ren might end before it even began.