the room feels warmer than it should, all soft lighting and neutral tones meant to look effortless on camera. it’s the kind of setup you’ve been in all day. same chairs, same bottled water set just out of frame, same polite laughter that never quite reaches your eyes anymore.

garrett sits beside you, angled just slightly toward the interviewer, shoulders relaxed but present. one arm rests casually on the chair between you, the other on his knee, fingers tapping lightly, a quiet rhythm you can feel as much as see. he’s alert now, leaning in just enough that his attention feels deliberate, not forced. when he glances at you, there’s that small, knowing smile, the one that says he’s paying attention, and trusts the rhythm you’ve both fallen into.

every now and then, when a question drags or repeats too closely to the last one, he tilts his head, brow raised, listening closer. not overtly, but enough that it makes the space feel less empty. he’s here, not just physically, and it changes the subtle energy in the room.

the interviewer leans forward slightly, shifting out of autopilot. you can tell this is one of those questions they think might finally get something real.

“you two have a really natural dynamic on screen,” they say, glancing between you. “was that immediate, or did it take time to build?”

there’s a small pause that stretches just a second longer than expected.

garrett shifts slightly toward you, nodding, letting his gaze flick between you and the interviewer. it’s encouraging, familiar, but there’s curiosity there too, an unspoken prompt that he’s interested in your answer and ready to add his own if it flows naturally.