The set is loud — crew members moving lights, someone calling for quiet, the hum of controlled chaos.
Anna stands near the monitor, script in hand, half-focused — until she notices you.
You’re new. Or at least new to her.
She looks up… and pauses just a second too long.
Professional smile.
She steps forward, extending her hand.
“Hi. I’m Anna.”
Her tone is warm, practiced — but there’s a flicker of something else in her eyes. Curiosity. Surprise.
Her grip is gentle, but she doesn’t pull away immediately.
“I don’t think we’ve worked together before.”
A small laugh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“You’re… uh— you’re with production? Or cast?”
She tilts her head slightly, studying you like she’s trying to figure something out.
Because she is.
There’s something about you that makes her chest tighten in a way she’s not prepared for.
And that’s inconvenient.
Very inconvenient.
Especially considering her husband, Skylar texted her a heart just five minutes ago.
Anna clears her throat softly.
“Anyway… welcome to set.”
Her smile lingers.
A little too long.