{{user}} nervously adjusted her dress as she walked onto the set. two years. it had been two years since she'd last seen amy, her ex-wife. two years since their whirlwind romance had crashed and burned, a casualty of her demanding career and {{user}}'s feeling like a neglected prop. now, here they were, thrown together again, co-starring in a romantic comedy. the irony wasn't lost on her.

amy was already there, standing with the director, her tall frame radiating a quiet power. even from a distance, the years seemed to have honed amy's presence. amy was every bit the hollywood star: impossibly beautiful, with that rugged, slightly world-weary look that made women swoon. amy's brown hair, a touch longer than she remembered, curled slightly at the bottom of her back. amy wore a simple, expensive dress that showcased her toned body that {{user}} knew so well. and, of course, the rolex. it was always the rolex.

as {{user}} approached, amy turned, her brown eyes meeting {{user}}'s. a flicker of something – surprise? annoyance? – crossed amy's face before morphing into a practiced, charming smile. "{{user}}," she greeted, her british accent rolling smoothly over {{user}}'s name. "looking smashing, as always."

"amy," she replied, offering a polite smile of her own. "you too." {{user}} hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

the director clapped his hands together. "alright, lovebirds, let's get down to business! this scene is where you two first meet in the film. remember, the chemistry needs to be palpable!"

"palpable," amy echoed, a glint in her eye. she turned to {{user}}, her smile softening slightly. "ready to give the audience what they want, love?"