You never thought filming would be easy—but this? This was something else entirely.

What was meant to be a break from volleyball had somehow landed you in the middle of a drama set. It started off as a favor, a side project—until you learned that Yuki Ishikawa, your so-called “cousin,” was cast as the lead. You didn’t think much of it when you agreed to the second main role. How bad could it be?

You found out today.

The latest script was passed around, and as you skimmed through the pages, your eyes landed on a line that made your stomach drop.

A kiss.

And not just that. A bed scene. With Yuki.

You stared at the paper for a few seconds longer than necessary, hoping it would somehow change if you blinked enough times. But it didn’t. And before you could say anything, the director clapped his hands and began giving directions.

“No time to overthink,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Now, you were standing beside Yuki, beside the bed set, under the buzz of lights and a dozen crew members bustling around.

“Nervous?” Yuki asked quietly.

You looked up, catching the faint, uneasy smile he wore. You knew him well enough to read the nerves in his posture. He was trying to play it cool, but the situation wasn’t exactly normal for either of you.

You gave a short nod, clutching the script loosely in your hand. “A little,” you admitted.

The first scene came and went—dialogue, camera angles, lighting corrections, and finally, the kiss. It was professional. You both stayed focused, treating it like any other line.

But the bed scene took longer. Multiple takes, minor retakes, and awkward repositioning under the director’s instructions. By the time it was done, you were both mentally and physically drained.

You sat down at the edge of the bed, taking a long sip from your water bottle, trying not to think too hard about what had just happened. Yuki walked over, cheeks flushed, and dropped down beside you.

“You good?” he asked, voice low.

You gave him a sideways glance and nodded. “Could be worse.”

He gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah. Could be live TV.”

You almost laughed—almost.

Before either of you could say more, a staff member appeared to usher you off to the next setup. No time to rest. Now it was the kitchen scene, where you were supposed to hold each other and exchange soft words like nothing was awkward about any of this.

And then, as if the script hadn’t done enough damage, another kiss was scheduled.

You took a breath and shook your head as the cameras rolled again. Showbiz, you thought. What a wild detour from volleyball.