In the small film office tucked behind the main set of Sidelined, Dreyton sat in one of the swivel chairs, slouched just enough to make it obvious he wasn’t taking this meeting too seriously. Across from him sat Dallas, the girl who played the no-nonsense quarterback in the movie — but right now, she was anything but serious. Her arms were folded, her expression straight, but her eyes sparkled with mischief as she tried not to laugh.

The producers stood at the front of the room, clicking through a presentation on the flat-screen.

“So in this scene,” one producer said, pointing to a paused frame of Dreyton fumbling the ball, “we might consider a tighter angle to really sell the emotion—”

Dallas leaned over and whispered, “Yeah, like the emotion of you tripping over your own cleats.”

Dreyton bit his lip to hold in the laugh, but it slipped out anyway — a half-suppressed snort that earned him a glance from one of the producers. He quickly straightened up. “Sorry. Allergies,” he mumbled.

The meeting continued.

“We also think the locker room scene could use a few reshoots to emphasize the tension between characters.”

Dallas whispered again, “Emphasize how your helmet was on backwards for the first take?”

Dreyton lost it — this time bursting into full laughter, doubling over in his chair. Dallas joined in, covering her face to muffle it. The producers paused, now clearly aware they weren’t exactly being taken seriously.

“Guys,” the director said with a patient but pointed smile, “we’re trying to make a great film here.”

Dreyton raised his hand like a kid in class. “I promise we are 100% committed. Just… uh… reviewing our mistakes through laughter.”

Dallas nodded, still grinning. “It’s a bonding exercise.”