The camera hovers around me, capturing every twitch of my actions. We have been executing this scene for the third time—take today. It feels so difficult to act, not because I lack skills, but because it's with Amid, my worst enemy. I detest him with everything in me. Everyone knows we are each other's nemesis in the industry. The directors have stopped pairing us together for movies. Unfortunately for me, this morning the originally scheduled actor for the scene is sick. He could not make it to the set.
The director pleaded with me to take the role with Amid, because he is the only available actor at the moment.
At first, I refused vehemently. I'm already pissed off and disappointed that the initial actor couldn't make it. The truth his → is he has been my secret crush in the industry, and I have been anticipating and counting down to this scene for days. Acting a romantic role with him would have given me a little taste of his attention, even if it was all pretence. The realization that what I have been wanting so badly isn't happening is what is what → which rages me the most.
The director pulls me aside. "Please, Elara, you need to save me today. We are already far behind schedule; Amid is the only actor available now. Trust me, if there is any alternative, I wouldn't think of merging you two together. I totally understand he is not your kind of person; I'm just begging you to make this happen for me.
I already made arrangements and spent a lot of money on this shoot. If you don't take this scene with him, the whole department will fall on me. Grant me this one favour of keeping the set together. Moreover, our fans have been dying to see you two together on screen. I will double your pay in appreciation."
It took him almost till eternity to convince me, but after much puffing and huffing from him, I finally gave in.
Amid come closer to me than the script requires. His eyes glint with an arrogant confidence that makes me regret my decision of doing this with him. I nod in confirmation.
Are you ready?" The director yells across the set. I nod in confirmation. "Action," he announces."
Amid unbuttoned my shirt, revealing his hot muscles as he slides into character. "You think he's the only one who cares for you?" He grasps my waist deliberately, like he is trying to make me fall for him in reality. I feel extremely cold at the feel of his hand on my waist. I want to slap him, but I bite it back cautiously. He is doing his job anyways.
"Every poison meal meant for you, I swapped them. All the bills you thought were some kind of miracle, I settled them. That night those animals in human form tried to take advantage of your helplessness, I was the man in the mask who came to your rescue. I let you hate me so you could live."
"You did all that and I didn't know, why would you do that?" I whisper, settling in character too.
"I did it because the girl I was supposed to destroy became the only one I'd kill to protect. I love you, Isla, I always have. I just couldn't tell you because of the circumstances surrounding my feelings for you."
He presses my right hand to his chest, holding my gaze in a seducing lock. My heart leaps. Oh my God… his eyes are so hot, it's inevitable to notice, except I want to deny it.
"You feel that?" he growls. "My heart, its beat is for you." He tightens his grip on me, and slowly he moves his head steadily towards mine. His lips are so close to kissing me.
At this point, I can't continue pretending anymore. I shove him back angrily. He stumbles and lands hard on his butt.
"Cut! Cut! Cut!" the director barks, but it's too late as we are already in a heated argument.
"Amid, stand up at once." He dusts his trousers venomously. "Why would you push me like that? What if I had landed on my head instead? Are you that heartless, hmm? The director clearly stated we should kiss. It's in the script. You read it before coming to the set—showing up means you agreed to everything written in it. I don't have the strength for your madness today. Wait, I hope you are not thinking I find you attractive?" He breathes out a humorless smirk.
"I am just doing my job, pinhead. Now let me make this clear, in case I haven't mentioned it before: I can never have anything to do with an ugly thing like you. You should be thanking the stars and the director for casting us in this romantic role together. Have you seen me?"
He adjusts his shirt, flashing a grin that screams see how hunk I am.
"I am the script of every perfect romance, and every woman—including you—longs for a taste of this story. Stop acting like you are not dying to kiss these lips."
I stride two steps forward, the insult burning into my blood like I've been plunged in scalding water. "I'd rather kiss a brick wall," I fire back. "Why would you grab me like you were choking a thief? That wasn't acting, Ethan, that was assault. If truly you don't find me attractive like you claim, why would you feed hungrily on my ass? Are you that lonely?"
"Of course I read and understood the script, but are you the rightful owner of this role? No. So I want you to eradicate that dirty thought from your head. I will never stoop so low as to press my lips to yours. Your mouth stinks."
He looks at me from head to toe with a belittling disdain. "Me? Kiss you? God forbid. I would rather kiss a corpse than touch those lips of yours. Honestly, Elara, I don't think anyone can stand being near you without gagging. You are the only girl I have met who could make a kiss feel like a punishment. I was only going to peck you, and even that alone disgusts me."
I feel a tickle in my eyes, but I force it back from disgracing me. "If you truly hate kissing me that much, you wouldn't have agreed or made a move in the first place."
He laughs out loud wickedly. "Oh, trust me, my dear, if I had a choice, we wouldn't be in this frame together. The director was on my neck."
I take a deep breath, refusing to let him notice the tears forming in my eyes. "I won't watch you stand there and make me feel less of myself. You were so touchy—more than the script required. Is that your way of flirting? It's boring. I'm not impressed."
He freezes for a second like he is caught off guard. "It's called commitment, you should learn to have it."
"Commitment?" I repeat incredulously. "To bad breath and ego? That is unprofessional."
His smirk fades away immediately. He steps closer, closing up the little distance between us. "You pushed me in front of the entire crew. Who is the unprofessional one here?"
I open my mouth to fire back, but the director storms between us. "Enough! I don't care if you two have underlying beef in real life, I don't care—but don't bring it on my set. When my script says 'kiss,' you kiss. You are not doing it for free; you are getting paid beautifully."
Ethan points his finger at me. "Tell her! She's the problem."
"Go to hell," I howl. The entire set goes silent. This is how every scene with him ends. And that's exactly why directors have stopped putting us together in a movie role.