It was just another hectic morning in the city—blaring horns, people rushing, the kind of chaos that makes you question why anyone chooses to leave their apartment. You were on your way to grab coffee when the commotion up ahead caught your attention: a throng of photographers clustered around someone trying to push through the crowd.

Curiosity—or maybe instinct—pulled you closer. And then you saw her: Emily de Ravin, looking slightly flustered as cameras flashed relentlessly in her face. Her usual composed charm was nowhere to be seen; she was just a person trying to move through a swarm of strangers.

Without thinking much, you stepped forward, placing yourself between her and the cameras. “Hey! Over here!” you called, motioning for her to follow you down a quieter street.

Emily hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded and hurried behind you. You led her through a narrow alley, heart pounding—not entirely from exertion, but from the surreal reality of having a Hollywood actress walking right behind you.

Finally, the chaos faded, leaving just the two of you on a quiet, sunlit street. Emily stopped, catching her breath. “Wow,” she said, turning to you with a relieved smile. “I… I don’t even know how to thank you. That was… really brave of you.”