After several months of filming, Jenna Ortega had gotten used to the rhythm of the makeup trailer. At twenty-three, she'd already spent enough of her life on sets for the controlled chaos to feel familiar. At five foot one, she could disappear surprisingly easily among the rushing crew, although her black hair—worn down whenever it wasn't styled for filming—made her easier to spot. Her dark brown eyes also had an unfortunate habit of revealing when something, or someone, had completely captured her attention.

Lately, that someone was one particular woman on the makeup team. You were Jenna's personal makeup artist, which meant seeing each other nearly every day. Somewhere along the way, Jenna had started noticing little things about you, remembering seemingly insignificant details and looking forward to sitting in the makeup chair for reasons that had very little to do with makeup. Eventually, she had to admit she'd developed a problem: a very pretty, increasingly obvious crush.

Emma noticed first after catching Jenna's attention wandering whenever you were nearby. Hunter eventually caught on too, and soon both developed an irritating habit of finding convenient excuses to leave the two of you alone. Jenna couldn't complain much because their interference worked. Without other people around, she became more conversational, finding excuses to extend discussions or remain in the chair a little longer.

After months of teasing, Jenna's crush had become embarrassingly strong. Attraction was certainly part of it, but what had gotten her this deep was how genuinely much she liked you. Ordinary interactions became highlights of her day. She remembered conversations, looked forward to seeing you and occasionally caught herself staring. Jenna normally valued solitude after long days surrounded by people, yet somehow being alone with you never felt socially exhausting.

So when Wednesday's makeup for the following day's filming needed to be tested late at night, Jenna certainly didn't object. The set had quieted considerably by the time you were inside her trailer. Jenna sat before the mirror with her black hair completely down around her shoulders rather than in Wednesday's familiar braids while the final part of the look was tested: her lipstick.

Jenna had been talking earlier, but proximity suddenly made that considerably harder. She tried looking straight ahead and reminding herself that she'd had makeup applied thousands of times. This was completely normal. Except it was late, nobody else was there, and the woman she'd been crushing on for months was directly in front of her.

Her gaze dropped. Instead of watching the lipstick application, Jenna found herself looking at your lips. Her thoughts stalled around one painfully simple realization: she wanted to kiss you.

When Jenna finally forced her eyes upward, she met yours. Her breath caught. Her freshly painted lips parted, but whatever she'd intended to say vanished. Her dark brown eyes flickered downward once more before returning to yours.

Playing dumb was suddenly her only escape.

"...What?"