Chapter Thirteen — Episode Three & The Sponsor Frenzy
(Sienna's pov)
The studio smelled like coffee, polished wood, and nerves. By now, I had memorized every corner of the set, every light stand, every fake shelf and prop book. But it didn't make it any easier when I walked onto the lot this morning.
Episode three. The one where Nora and Calen have to navigate a quiet, private moment in the library before everything explodes. The tension in the script was palpable, and somehow, the real-life tension between Axel and me mirrored it perfectly.
I clutched my script, midnight-blue hair tied loosely at my neck, hoodie draped over my shoulders to feel normal.
Axel was already there, leaning casually against a wall, perfectly composed — but there was a flicker in his eyes when he saw me. That you still surprise me flicker.
I rolled my eyes at him silently. He smirked back, one corner of his lips twitching.
"Places!" Miles barked, clipboard in hand, voice carrying authority. Cameras rolled. Crew members buzzed like bees. And somewhere in the background, my phone had already started blowing up.
Sponsors had reached out overnight. Luxury brands, tech companies, fashion lines — all of them wanted a piece of Sienna and Axel, or more accurately, Nora and Calen.
"Everyone's obsessed," Ember whispered from behind me, peeking over the monitor. "They've already started making memes and edits of your hands brushing in Episode One and the kiss in Episode Two."
I groaned, adjusting my hoodie. "I can't even have breakfast without it trending."
Axel, standing across from me, smirked faintly. "Don't pretend you hate it. You've survived in the industry since sixteen. This is just a new level."
"Yeah, surviving the internet is my cardio," I muttered.
Episode three demanded subtlety — our first quiet scene alone in the library after the storm of misunderstandings.
Nora: "I don't know if I can trust you again, Calen."
Calen: "You don't have to. You just have to… let me try."
I could feel Axel's gaze, steady, calm, but intense. His hand brushed the prop book just slightly too close to mine, and my stomach flipped in a way that made me realize: the cameras were recording everything, but so was my heart.
Nora: (softly) "And what if I don't want to try?"
Calen: "Then I'll try anyway."
The tension was unbearable, even when the director yelled, "Cut!" We both froze in that charged space between acting and reality, barely noticing the cameras shutting down.
Lunch break brought a new kind of chaos. Publicists, social media managers, and sponsors' representatives swarmed the studio.
"Ms. Everglow, Mr. Reeve," one said, sliding a glossy tablet across the table, "brands are very interested. They love your on-screen chemistry, and they want collaborations, interviews, sponsored posts…"
I looked at Axel, who was raising one dark eyebrow. "We just filmed two episodes," he muttered dryly.
"Exactly," the rep said brightly. "Fans are obsessed. You're trending in eight countries. You're the perfect package — screen chemistry and real-life buzz."
I groaned. "So now we're walking ads?"
Axel smirked. "We're already celebrities. Might as well get paid for it."
I muttered something under my breath about surviving this storm. He leaned closer, voice low: "Don't pretend you're not secretly thrilled."
I didn't answer.
Afternoon filming resumed, and tension built with every scene. Episode three required a subtle brush, a moment of shared space that made everyone aware — fans, crew, Axel, me — that this wasn't just acting.
Nora: "I shouldn't have let you in."
Calen: "But you did."
My hand brushed his — accidental, maybe, but deliberate enough to send sparks. We froze, breathing, aware of every heartbeat.
The cameras didn't blink. The crew didn't breathe. And for a moment, it felt like the world was watching — because, somehow, it was.
By the end of the day, social media had exploded again. Clips of Episode Three's intimate moment leaked by an overenthusiastic assistant. Fans went wild. Edits, slow-motion replays, and music overlays flooded TikTok and Instagram.
Ember slid over beside me, eyes wide. "This is insane. You're trending in ten countries right now. Every brand that wants you is now negotiating. You're literally untouchable."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I can't even enjoy a scene without it going viral."
Axel, standing next to me, reached out, brushing his fingers against mine. Not a scene, not a script — just a touch. Electric, grounding, dangerous.
"Maybe this is the part where you stop pretending it's stressful and admit you're alive," he said softly.
I swallowed hard. Alive. Yeah. That's what this was. Alive, chaotic, overwhelming — and with him, terrifyingly real.
By the time I left the studio, the sun was setting. Screens on the lot displayed trending hashtags, brand logos, and fan edits. Somewhere deep inside, I realized that being famous wasn't about acting anymore. It wasn't about the music or the roles.
It was about surviving the fire — together.
Axel walked beside me silently, letting the tension settle, letting the world spin out of control while we stayed in our little bubble.
And I wondered, not for the first time, if anyone could handle the intensity of what was happening between us — on-screen, off-screen, and everywhere in between.