Elizabeth woke to the soft buzzing of her phone and the heavy weight of something warm sprawled across her stomach. She didn't have to open her eyes to know what it was.
"Loki," she groaned, voice still thick with sleep, "I know you think you're helping, but you weigh as much as a bowling ball."
The cat did not care.
He stretched—slowly, dramatically—before collapsing back into a perfect loaf shape, right on top of her ribs. Elizabeth tried to push herself upright and failed.
"Great," she muttered. "Defeated by a ten-pound tyrant."
She nudged him again, this time more firmly. Loki finally relented, hopping off the bed with a judgmental flick of his tail. Elizabeth peeled herself up, ran her fingers through her messy red hair, and blinked at the sunlight creeping through the curtains.
6:12 a.m.
Too early.
But also just early enough.
Filming resumed at ten. Her plan was simple: coffee, breakfast, memorize five pages of revised dialogue, and—if the universe was kind—avoid the paparazzi lurking outside her apartment building like wolves in stylish jackets.
She shuffled into the kitchen, wearing a loose T-shirt and lounge shorts. The coffee machine sputtered to life, and the smell of roasted heaven slowly filled the room.
Loki meowed at her feet.
"You already ate," Elizabeth said, opening the fridge. "I watched you inhale that salmon pâté last night."
The cat looked unconvinced.
She sighed and slid him a tiny treat. Compromise.
While waiting for her toast, she glanced at the script lying open on the counter. Her role as Skarlet had always been physically demanding, but today's scenes were all dialogue—thankfully—mostly banter with the actor playing Kung Lao. He was charming in a silly way and constantly cracked jokes during filming. Last week he'd tried to balance a prop hat on her head during a serious take, which ended with both of them laughing and the director pretending to be annoyed.
Elizabeth smiled at the memory.
A soft buzz from her phone made her glance down.
Director Blake: Morning, Liz. Don't forget we're doing a behind-the-scenes interview today. Bring your natural smile, not the Skarlet death stare.
She snorted.
Her "death stare" had apparently become a meme online.
Elizabeth: No promises. My smile depends on how many takes you make me redo.
A second message popped up immediately.
Director Blake: Touché.
After breakfast, she put on sunglasses, tied her red hair into a loose knot, and headed out. Loki watched from the window like a tiny monarch seeing off his loyal subject.
The moment the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, she heard it.
The telltale click-click-click of camera shutters.
"Oh, joy," she whispered.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth! Over here!"
"What's your favorite part about playing Skarlet?"
"Is it true you're dating your stunt double?"
"Do you really drink blood smoothies to stay in character?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose behind her sunglasses.
"Good morning to everyone except the person who made that blood smoothie rumor," she said dryly.
The paparazzi laughed—some genuinely, some because it sold photos better—and she navigated through them to reach her car. She wasn't unfriendly; she just preferred talking to people who didn't jump out from behind trash cans for a living.
Once she made it to the studio gates, she let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
The lot was already a hive of activity—crew members rolling equipment, stunt performers stretching, and makeup artists hunting for their first cup of coffee. Elizabeth changed into her costume, sat with her script, and let the familiar hum of production settle her nerves.
"Morning, Liz!"
She turned to see Daniel, the actor playing Kung Lao, walking toward her with two coffee cups balanced in one hand.
"I got you a latte," he said. "Mostly because you look like you fought Loki and lost."
She stared at him.
"…How did you know?"
"Because that cat hates everyone, including you."
Elizabeth laughed, taking the cup. "Thank you. I needed this."
Daniel grinned. "Good. Because in today's scene, Skarlet and Kung Lao are supposed to look like they tolerate each other."
"Oh, easy," she said. "I tolerate you just fine."
"Rude," he replied, placing a hand over his heart.
She shook her head, smiling despite herself.
Maybe today would be a good day after all.