The locker room had been transformed into a makeshift set—lights, cameras, wires snaking across the floor. Red and blue kits hung perfectly behind Jamie as he sat on the bench, getting a light dusting of powder to dull the shine from training. The Bantr logo stretched across his chest, and on the monitor in front of Shandy, his expression flickered somewhere between nervous and annoyed.

“Right, Jamie,” Keeley called, clapping her hands. “We’re rolling. Just look at the camera and say something like… ‘I enjoy meeting people who see past the fame.’ Or whatever feels natural, yeah?”

Jamie cleared his throat, shifting slightly as he tried to keep still. “I enjoy… meetin’ people who…” His eyes wandered past the camera, landing on you.

You stood just off-set, arms crossed, wearing your training bib and watching quietly. You weren’t even supposed to be in this shoot—just finished physio and waiting for your ride—but Shandy had begged you to stay in case they needed another face for the next bit.

Jamie faltered. “Who see you, even when you’re not playin’ your best.”

Keeley lit up. “Yes! That’s great, babes! Let’s do one more, and then we’ll bring in—” She glanced at the clipboard. “—you.”

Jamie’s eyes stayed on you. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch. “Reckon that was already about them anyway.”

You raised a brow, a slow smirk pulling at your lips. Shandy gave the thumbs-up. “Next!” she yelled.