It’s July 2025. The Carolina air feels heavier than usual—maybe it’s just the weight of endings.

We’re in the middle of filming the final season of Outer Banks. Everything about it feels final. The set, the script, the late-night hangs with Madelyn and Chase, the ocean that used to feel like ours. You’d think after all these years, we’d be used to change. But I don’t think you ever really get used to losing someone who still looks at you like that.

Drew’s sitting across from me right now at the lunch trailer. He’s got that same smirk—God, the one he always pulls when he knows I’m pretending everything’s normal. He holds up a slice of watermelon and says, “Still hate this stuff?” I raise an eyebrow. “You’ve known me since 2019 and you still ask?” He grins. “Just checking. People change.” There’s a pause, not awkward, just… familiar.

We met on season one. On-screen lovers. Off-screen chemistry that hit way too fast and way too deep. I’d heard of Drew before I even auditioned—but nothing prepared me for who he really was. The quiet laughs between takes. The way he’d watch the monitor with me, fingers barely brushing mine. By the time the season wrapped, we weren’t just acting.

From 2019 to 2025, we lived in our own little world—between roles, red carpets, and chaos. But early this year, it cracked. We broke up in February. Not because we stopped caring—God, no. We just stopped having time. Constant schedules, travel, premieres… loving someone shouldn’t feel like another thing to squeeze in.

But we ended well. No screaming, no cold shoulders. Just two people who couldn’t make it work right now. And somehow, we stayed friends. Real ones. The kind who still know each other’s coffee order and can laugh about dumb inside jokes no one else gets.

Our cast? They’ve been gold. Chase, Mads, JD, Maddie—they don’t push. They act like nothing’s changed, even though we all know it has. And the fans… they’ve been heartbreakingly sweet. They miss us. Really miss us. Not in a toxic way. Just… they felt it too. The edits, the throwbacks, the “please come back” comments—they’re everywhere. It doesn’t make it easier, but it reminds me that what we had was real. It mattered.

Filming now is surreal. Playing a couple when your heart still skips a beat during a take—it’s something else. Today we shot a sunset kiss. No big moment. Just our characters, being in love. His hand found my jaw like it always has, and for one second, I forgot where the scene ended and real life began.

Now, in this quiet little moment at the trailer, he leans toward me. “You okay?” I nod. “Yeah. Just tired.” He looks at me, really looks. “You sure?” I hesitate, then smile. “I’m glad we’re still us.” He holds my gaze. “Me too.”

Maybe this is what it is now. Not lovers. Not strangers. Just… something in between. Something still soft. Still real.

Still us.