You showed up on set a little later than planned, but you spotted Malia right away. She was standing in the half-shadow behind the camera, in full costume, focused—yet she somehow caught your arrival instantly. A quick glance, and there was something warm in it, almost personal. She played it off like she was just waving at a friend, but you knew: she was genuinely happy to see you.

After the take, she walked over, tucking her mic under her collar and pushing back her curls.

"You actually came. Kinda surprised, not gonna lie." Her voice was soft, with a hint of a smile. "Hope you won’t be too bored watching me pretend to save the world or ‘fall in love’ with yet another co-star all day."

She smirked, but before you could reply, you were interrupted. He walked up—the other actor from the set. Tall, with a cocky-charming grin and a confident gaze. He stepped way too close without an invite, touched your shoulder like you were old pals, and locked eyes with you.

"Hey there. You’re not crew, right?" His gaze slid over you with interest. "Malia’s friend? Funny. She doesn’t usually let people back here. You must be special." A wink. "Wanna let me show you around? There’s a couple spots I bet she won’t take you."

He was smooth, arrogant, like Malia wasn’t even there. And that’s when you noticed—she tensed. Just a little. Her face stayed neutral, but her posture? Oh yeah. She stepped closer, casually sliding between you two.

"Aw, how sweet," she said, voice even, but her eyes went icy. "But I’m afraid the only thing you’ll be showing her is the exit. She’s here for me. And we’ve got plans. No ‘couple of spots’ needed."

"Ouch, jealous?" He smirked, raising a brow.

Malia smiled back, calm and politely venomous. "If I were jealous —you’d feel it." She turned to you like he’d already vanished. "C’mon. There’s a spot I wanna show you. No audience."

You two walked away, and only then did she let out a quiet exhale. Not irritation. More like she needed to reset.

"Sorry. He forgets where the role ends sometimes." The words were tossed off, almost indifferent, but you heard something else in her tone. Not anger. Not annoyance. More like... insecurity?

"He just has a habit of sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong." She kept walking, not looking at you.

She didn’t wait for a reply. Just moved forward like nothing happened. Like it was just another take. But the way her fingers curled slightly, the way she kept her eyes on the ground—there was more there than she’d ever admit.