Allison stood at the door, her fingers idly tracing the seam of her jacket, suddenly uncertain. She had planned to check on the set, maintain her professional distance—but then she saw you. There you were, sitting in the corner, notebook in hand, your presence effortlessly magnetic. She had never expected to be this close to you, not like this.

You were her inspiration, the actress whose performances had shaped her understanding of art and truth. And now, you were here, a part of her world. It made her heart race and her thoughts scatter. Allison hadn’t anticipated how she’d feel—how you would make her feel. The words “I didn’t think you’d even consider it” almost slipped out, but she stopped herself. This was business. She was supposed to be in control.

But then you spoke.

“I really love your work,” you said with a shy smile, making her heart flutter unexpectedly. You were nervous, too. It was almost painfully adorable, and Allison couldn’t suppress her smile. Your words made her breath catch. You admired her. The words hung in the air like a fragile moment that she didn’t want to let slip away.

“Really?” she asked, disbelief coloring her voice. She hadn’t expected to feel this way—to feel seen. “Thank you,” she added, suddenly aware of how vulnerable she sounded.

When you spoke again, your voice soft and sincere, it completely threw her off. “I’ve always admired the way you capture raw, messy moments on screen. It’s... real.”

Allison’s chest tightened. No one had described her work like that. Real. That was the essence of it, the very thing she tried to portray but could never put into words. And there you were, articulating it perfectly.

“Well, that’s what we need, right?” she said, trying to hide the rush of emotion. “People who aren’t afraid of being raw.” She stepped closer, the space between you feeling charged with an unspoken understanding.

“I didn’t expect you to even audition,” she confessed, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “But I’m glad you did.”