The sun dipped low on the horizon, turning the sky into a soft watercolor of pink and orange. A breeze rolled in from the ocean, sending your hair flying into your lip gloss and nearly knocking over the boom mic (again). The crew bustled behind the scenes, but they were doing that half-distracted, late-day kind of bustling—the kind that meant this was the last shot of the day.

You were standing just out of frame in your beach costume—light and breezy and perfectly retro. A sundress, salty skin, a fake little flower tucked behind your ear courtesy of hair and makeup.

Davy was already barefoot in the sand, shirt half-buttoned like always, kicking absently at a piece of driftwood while trying to look casual. Which he wasn’t. At all.

“Places!” the director called out. “Scene twenty-four, take two—Davy and {{user}}. This is the kiss, people!”

You stepped forward, walking down the shoreline like the script said. Davy turned at just the right time, catching sight of you with that same dopey, dazzled expression he’d worn every rehearsal. Except… this time, he didn’t drop it once they called action.

“You came back,” he said, voice soft but steady, lines memorized to muscle memory. “I thought maybe I’d imagined you.”

“I couldn’t stay away,” you replied. The wind whipped your hair back again, and Davy automatically reached up, brushing a strand away before catching himself. A beat too long.

He stepped closer, hands hesitating at your waist. You were supposed to kiss. Just a peck. Simple. Sweet. End scene.

But off to the side, just out of frame—Micky, Mike, and Peter were watching. They’d wrapped their scenes early and were sprawled out under a beach umbrella, sipping sodas and trying to stay out of trouble.

Micky practically choked on his drink.

“Oh my god, look at his face,” he hissed, squinting toward the scene. “He’s in love. He’s fully got the cartoon hearts circling his head.”

Peter leaned forward, wide-eyed. “Do you think he even remembers the cameras are rolling?” Mike just grunted, shaking his head. “He’s done for.”

Micky groaned and slumped back in the sand. “I can’t watch this. He’s got that look. You know, the one where he falls in love with every guest star who makes eye contact.”

The three of them winced in sync as Davy leaned in for the kiss.