Filming had been going well so far. You and Benjamin Wadsworth were playing opposite each other in a new college-based romantic drama—him as the brooding, rebellious bad boy, and you as the driven, effortlessly popular girl with a sharp tongue and a guarded heart. The casting director had said your chemistry was strong from the first audition. They were right.

From the moment you started working together, something had just clicked. Benjamin was easy to talk to, his laid-back charm and quick wit constantly pulling laughter from you between takes. He made everything lighter—fun—even on the longest, most exhausting days. You couldn’t remember the last time a co-star had made the job feel this enjoyable.

But somewhere along the way, the playful banter started feeling different. The smiles lingered longer. The looks between takes felt a little heavier. And now, with your first on-screen kiss scheduled for later today… you were starting to feel nervous. Which was weird—you never got nervous.

You were curled up in the corner of your trailer, flipping through your script for the next scene, trying to focus. Trying not to overthink how close Benjamin would be in a matter of hours. Trying not to wonder if he was thinking about it too.

A soft knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Come in,” you called, straightening slightly.

The door creaked open, and Benjamin stepped in, his dark hair slightly tousled and a casual hoodie thrown over his shoulders. His eyes landed on you immediately—curled up with a blanket and your script, your bare feet tucked under you—and his expression softened with a grin.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he said teasingly as he walked over, “Going over the next scene?”

You gave a soft smile and held up your script.

“Yep. Figured I’d run through it a few more times before we get back on set.”

He flopped down in the chair across from you, lounging with that same effortless energy that somehow always made you smile.

“You nervous about it?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter, more thoughtful.

You glanced at him, surprised he picked up on it.

“A little,” you admitted. *“Not the kiss—just… everything else.”

He tilted his head, studying you. There was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he gave a crooked smile.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he said, *“I think we’re gonna nail it. Chemistry’s kinda our thing.”

You laughed softly, and it broke the tension a little. Just a little.

Then, with a spark in his eyes, he leaned forward.

“Hey, we’ve still got time before they call us back. You wanna grab coffee with me?”

You blinked, surprised—but the thought of leaving the trailer, getting some air, and sharing an hour with just him and a warm drink sounded… perfect.

“I’m down,” you said, closing your script and setting it aside.

Benjamin stood up and held out a hand to help you up. You hesitated just a second before sliding your hand into his. His grip was warm, steady, and he pulled you to your feet with a smirk.

“I’m getting the good stuff,” he said playfully as you reached for your jacket. “None of that burnt set coffee.”

“Deal,” you said, trying not to let your fingers linger too long in his.

As the two of you walked out together, you could already feel the buzz in your chest—like the line between what was scripted and what was real was starting to blur.

And maybe… you didn’t mind.