Ashley spotted Jesse from across the rehearsal hallway, leaning against the wall with her phone, tapping her foot to a beat only she could hear. Ashley's steps softened as she approached, a smile curving onto her lips—the kind of smile that could melt even the coldest heart.
When she reached her, she tilted her head and asked lightly,
"So… how did I do?"
Jesse blinked at her. For a moment, the world behind her blurred out. Even the noisy dancers exiting the practice studio faded. She was just… staring. Her jaw was slightly slack, her eyes wide; she looked like someone who had just seen the northern lights for the first time.
"Good," Jesse finally stammered. "Ahh—mm—great! Amazing."
She blinked again, snapping herself back into reality and running a hand through her hair as if embarrassed she zoned out.
Ashley giggled at how genuinely stunned Jesse looked.
Jesse turned, ready to walk with Ashley, when she noticed someone standing there like a fashionable statue who had been waiting for the exact dramatic moment to be acknowledged.
"Oh—right. Uh—Ashley, meet Tristan. Tristan, Ashley."
Jesse gestured awkwardly.
Ashley raised a brow. The man was tall, dressed in a slightly-too-perfect denim jacket, and wearing a smile that screamed I practice this in the mirror.
"A friend of yours?" Ashley asked, tone cautious.
"No, actually, Tristan here wants—"
Jesse's phone buzzed aggressively in her hand.
"Oh shoot—it's the boss."
She stepped away, already answering the call as she walked a few meters back.
The moment Jesse was out of earshot, Ashley leaned in sharply.
"What in the world, Tristan?" she whispered.
Tristan's grin widened. "Sorry, cousin. I couldn't resist."
He placed a dramatic hand over his heart.
"I think I'm in love."
Ashley's eyes narrowed. Hard.
"Don't give me that bullshit. She is not one of your play things."
Tristan shook his head earnestly. "No, no—with this one it's different. I can feel it."
"How?" Ashley asked, arms crossing.
"Well… she, ah—mm—she…"
Tristan's voice faded. He had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"Just what I thought." Ashley rolled her eyes and stepped past him.
"Stay away… cousin."
She dragged the word like a threat.
Jesse hung up her call just as Ashley approached.
"Let's go," Ashley said quickly.
Jesse nodded, falling into step beside her. "Oh! Did you talk to Tristan? He wants to go out with you."
Ashley's foot caught the corner of a tile, and she stumbled.
"Whoa—are you okay?" Jesse tried to grab her arm.
"Yeah—I just slipped," Ashley lied, forcing a smile.
But in her mind the words screamed:
He is using me to get to her. What a scumbag.
They walked out of the studio, Jesse rambling updates about rehearsal schedules, script changes, and an incident involving someone accidentally kicking over a prop tree. But Ashley wasn't listening. Not really. Her mind spiraled through the disaster waiting to happen if Jesse and Tristan got entangled.
She glanced at Jesse. Really glanced. The way Jesse's laugh lit her whole face. The way she moved with energy, like she had too many thoughts and not enough time to express them. Ashley smiled unconsciously.
"Jesse," she cut in suddenly, "what do you think of Tristan?"
Jesse shrugged. "Well… he's handsome. Seems like he's in the entertainment industry? Honestly, I think he might be a good match for you. You two would look great together. Beautiful and handsome."
Her voice softened at the end, and she didn't meet Ashley's eyes.
Ashley frowned.
Damn. She's serious.
How do I tell her he's actually into her—not me—without telling her he's my cousin and ruining everything?
Hours later, after Ashley reached home, her phone buzzed. Tristan again.
"Hey Ashley, can we talk? I'm at the café across your building."
Ashley groaned.
"Why me," she muttered before typing:
"On my way."
She tossed her bag onto the couch, slipped into her sandals, and walked out.
The café was warm and softly lit, a cozy contrast to the cool night air. Tristan sat near the window, tapping his fingers nervously on the table. When he saw her, he straightened, like he was preparing for a job interview.
Ashley sat down opposite him and crossed her arms.
"Now what do you want?"
"I'm serious, Ashley," Tristan said immediately. "I'm interested in her. Please—help me."
Ashley stared at him, incredulous.
"You can have whatever girl you want with just your looks. Why her?"
"She's not just any girl. She's… the kind of girl I always imagined ending up with."
Ashley exhaled slowly.
"I can't help you."
"Why not?"
"Because… well, because—"
She hesitated.
Then blurted,
"She's not your type."
Tristan froze.
"What? Then who is her type? You?"
Ashley's eyes widened as her hands flew up in panic.
"What? No! Stop talking nonsense. She likes guys."
"Then help me," Tristan pleaded. "I'll do anything you want."
"Anything?"
"Anything… that's legal."
Ashley pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I'll try, but I can't promise anything."
"Thank you, Ashley! You're the best!"
His relief was loud enough that two tables turned to look.
"Fine, fine," Ashley muttered.
"So… what is she like?" Tristan leaned forward eagerly.
"Aren't you supposed to find that out on a date?" Ashley asked, unimpressed.
"Well yeah, but I just want to know what she likes so I can score more points, you know?"
He flashed a boyish smile.
Ashley sighed.
"She is…"
And she began listing the little quirks, preferences, and habits Jesse had—the way she collects stickers, how she loves cheesy jokes, how she cries at commercials but laughs during horror films, how she eats fries first because "the potatoes deserve to live their best life early."
Halfway through, Tristan blinked.
"She cries at commercials?"
Ashley nodded.
"Every single time."
Tristan placed his hand on his chest dramatically again.
"That's adorable."
Ashley rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched.
Jesse really was adorable.
Tristan leaned back. "Do you think she'll like me?"
Ashley inhaled deeply—too deeply—and let it out through her nose.
"I don't know, Tristan," she said honestly. "Just… don't hurt her."
"I won't."
Ashley looked out the window. The streetlights flickered. Cars passed lazily.
But her mind wasn't in the café anymore.
It was with Jesse.
Her laugh.
Her sincerity.
Her goofy charm.
Her clumsy stumbles.
Her gentle eyes.
Tristan wanted Jesse.
But Ashley…