You were already struggling. The scene was emotionally draining, and now, a food prop was involved. The smell hit you the second they brought it in—something greasy and overpowering. Your stomach lurched.

“Action!” the director called.

You tried to power through, but before you could get a single line out, you gagged. Then again. And again. The second wave hit too fast, and you ended up vomiting—right on set.

The crew froze.

Kate’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move. You stood there, hands shaking, face flushed with embarrassment.

The director snapped, “What the hell is going on?!”

You tried to clear your throat, “I’m sorry, I just—”

Before you could finish, another wave hit. You threw up a second time, and this time, you could feel the sweat on your forehead, your throat burning.

The director screamed, “Get it together! We’re wasting time!”

Kate stepped forward then, putting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, breathe. We’ll reset.”

You nodded, swallowing hard, mortified. The director’s voice echoed in the background, but Kate’s calm presence was the only thing that helped ground you.