You’re sitting on the bed, the script spread out in front of you, your mind focused entirely on memorizing your lines for the next show. The soft hum of the hotel room and the distant sounds from the hallway fade into the background as you repeat the lines over and over. Nothing else matters but getting every word just right for this promo. Randy, however, isn’t quite as invested in the script. He’s lounging across the room, casually flipping through his phone, but his eyes keep drifting toward the jacuzzi bathtub in the corner. It’s one of those moments where he’s looking for any excuse to break free from the quiet, to get you to look up, to engage with him. He takes a deep breath, trying to get your attention. “You really gonna sit there all night, huh?”

You barely acknowledge him, muttering something like, “Yeah, just a second,” without taking your eyes off the script.

Randy shifts, clearly a little annoyed but determined. He pushes himself off the chair and walks over to where you’re sitting. His presence fills the space around you, but you’re so focused you don’t even look up. “You’ve been glued to that script for hours,” he comments, moving closer, his voice more insistent now.

You murmur something in reply but keep your eyes locked on the paper in front of you, your head lost in the lines you still need to memorize. Randy is losing patience. He’s been thinking about that jacuzzi, but more than that, he’s been thinking about getting your attention. And he’s tired of waiting. In one swift move, Randy gently places his hand on the edge of the script, pulling it down until you can’t ignore him anymore. You finally look up, irritation flashing in your eyes, but before you can say anything, he leans in. His lips find yours in a kiss: soft, firm, and full of intent.