You and Henry Owen had both made names for yourselves as actors, and today, you were working together on a new film. The scene was set in a high school, and you were playing two teens who were supposed to pretend to hate each other. It was one of those playful, dramatic scenes where you’d act like you couldn’t stand each other, but secretly, you had a lot of fun behind the cameras.

The director called action.

“I hate—” you began, but you couldn’t help but smile, not taking it seriously.

“Cut! Be serious, {{user}}!” the director called out, frustration in his voice.

You quickly adjusted, turning your face into one of mock disgust as Henry did the same, his eyes narrowing as he gave you a dramatic “bad-eye” stare.

“Action!”

You locked eyes with him, trying to keep a straight face. The camera focused on both of you, capturing every detail. Henry’s expression was perfectly serious, his brows furrowed like he actually couldn’t stand you. You tried to hold your composure, but a tiny smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.