Episode4
1360 Words
The first rehearsal started badly.
Which, according to several exhausted crew members, meant it was right on schedule.
“From the top!” the choreographer shouted from below the stage.
Music blasted through the arena again.
Vanessa missed her timing almost immediately.
“No, no, no—” the choreographer dragged both hands down his face. “Vanessa, you’re coming in too early.”
“I was following the beat.”
“You were fighting the beat.”
Vanessa’s jaw tightened.
Maya stood near the backstage curtains holding a steaming cup of tea no one had asked for yet, watching dancers reset positions under harsh white lights.
Three hours into rehearsals and the atmosphere had already started cracking.
People were stressed.
Assistants were running on caffeine and panic.
The lighting director was threatening violence over incorrect cue sheets.
And Adrian Vale looked like he wanted to disappear entirely.
He stood near center stage listening quietly while the choreographer explained another transition problem. Black long sleeves pushed up to his forearms, dark hair slightly damp from rehearsal sweat, expression unreadable.
He barely spoke unless necessary.
But when he did, people listened.
“Again?” he asked calmly.
The choreographer sighed. “Again.”
Vanessa tossed her hands into the air dramatically. “We’ve done this six times.”
“Then let’s survive a seventh,” Adrian replied.
Not rude.
Not warm either.
Just tired.
Maya lowered her eyes quickly before she got caught staring again.
“Why are you standing there?”
Vanessa’s voice snapped behind her.
Maya turned immediately. “You said you wanted tea.”
“I wanted it ten minutes ago.”
“It’s still hot.”
Vanessa took the cup anyway, irritation sharp in every movement. “My God, you move slowly.”
Maya stayed quiet.
Around them, crew members rushed past carrying cables and costume pieces. Somewhere down the hallway, someone cursed loudly after dropping equipment.
Vanessa sipped the tea and grimaced. “Too much honey.”
“You told me two spoons.”
“Well now it tastes sweet.”
Maya looked at the cup.
Said nothing.
Vanessa leaned closer suddenly, lowering her voice.
“And stop staring at Adrian.”
Maya blinked.
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.” Vanessa’s smile stayed perfectly in place, but her eyes didn’t. “It’s embarrassing.”
A familiar heaviness settled low in Maya’s chest.
Not anger.
Something older than that.
The exhaustion of being misunderstood before she even spoke.
“I was watching rehearsal.”
“Well watch somebody else.”
Vanessa shoved the tea back into her hands and walked toward the stage again without waiting for a response.
Maya stared after her for a second.
Then quietly threw the untouched tea into the trash.
---
By late afternoon, rehearsal finally paused for a thirty-minute break.
The arena lights dimmed slightly while crew members scattered toward catering tables and coffee stations.
Maya slipped away backstage, needing silence for just a minute.
She found an empty hallway near the dressing rooms and leaned against the wall with a slow exhale.
Her feet hurt.
Her shoulders ached.
And somehow, despite all of it, part of her still felt electric from being here.
She hated that.
Hated how quickly this world pulled at her.
The music.
The movement.
The stage lights.
It reminded her too much of the version of herself she tried not to think about anymore.
“You look like you’re questioning every decision you’ve ever made.”
Maya glanced up.
Jordan walked toward her carrying two iced coffees and an expression full of concern he was pretending to disguise as humor.
“You appear out of nowhere like a sleep paralysis demon,” she muttered.
“Yet you’re always happy to see me.”
He handed her a coffee anyway.
Maya took it gratefully.
Jordan leaned beside her against the wall. “How bad is it?”
“She yelled at me over honey.”
“That feels emotionally on brand for her.”
Maya laughed softly into the coffee lid.
The sound faded quickly though.
Jordan watched her from the corner of his eye.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Maya.”
She stared down the hallway for a moment before answering.
“She thinks I’m trying to get Adrian’s attention.”
Jordan nearly inhaled his drink. “What?”
“She said I keep staring at him.”
“Do you?”
Maya gave him a look.
Jordan lifted both hands. “Hey, I’m gathering evidence.”
“She’s being ridiculous.”
“Probably.” He paused. “But for the record, he does look at you.”
Maya frowned immediately. “No, he doesn’t.”
Jordan’s expression turned suspiciously entertained.
“Oh,” he said slowly. “So we’re doing denial now.”
Before Maya could answer, voices echoed nearby.
A group of dancers passed through the corridor laughing loudly, followed by two stylists balancing garment bags over their shoulders.
And behind them—
Adrian.
He walked beside Selena Brooks, his manager, listening while she spoke rapidly about scheduling changes.
“…and the interview got pushed to Friday because the network wants—”
Selena stopped mid-sentence when she noticed Maya and Jordan standing there.
Adrian looked up too.
For a second, everything slowed strangely.
Recognition crossed his face again.
Not vague this time.
Certain.
Maya instinctively straightened away from the wall.
Jordan looked between them once before wisely stepping back.
Adrian’s gaze lingered on her for a brief moment before shifting toward the coffee in her hand.
Then back to her face.
“You survived the champagne incident,” he said lightly.
Maya stared at him.
And then—to her own horror—laughed.
Actually laughed.
Soft and surprised.
“I think so.”
His mouth curved slightly at the sound.
Up close, he somehow looked even more tired than before. Not physically. Something deeper than that.
Like rest never fully reached him.
Selena glanced between them curiously.
“You two know each other?”
“Not really,” Maya answered quickly.
“At this point we’ve assaulted each other with beverages twice,” Adrian said. “That feels familiar enough.”
Jordan choked on his coffee behind her.
Maya looked down immediately, embarrassed.
And Adrian—
smiled.
Not the polished smile cameras usually captured.
A real one.
Small.
Brief.
But real.
It disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
Still, Maya saw it.
“So,” he said, sliding his hands into his pockets, “what’s your name?”
The question hit harder than it should have.
Because suddenly she became aware of something painfully simple:
He genuinely didn’t know.
Not because he thought he was above asking.
Because nobody had told him.
Maya swallowed lightly.
“Maya.”
Adrian repeated it once quietly, like testing the sound of it.
“Maya.”
Something warm and strange curled unexpectedly beneath her ribs.
Before either of them could say anything else, Vanessa’s voice sliced through the hallway.
“There you are.”
The shift was immediate.
Vanessa approached with cameras trailing behind her from some backstage content team.
Her smile appeared instantly the second she reached Adrian’s side.
“We’re about to restart rehearsals,” she said smoothly, slipping a hand around his arm. “Everyone’s waiting.”
Adrian’s expression flattened almost invisibly.
Vanessa finally looked toward Maya.
Then at the coffee in her hand.
Then back at Adrian.
Her smile sharpened just slightly.
“Maya,” she said sweetly, “weren’t you supposed to be organizing my costumes?”
The humiliation was subtle.
Carefully designed.
Which made it worse.
Maya stepped back immediately. “Right. Sorry.”
Vanessa dismissed her with barely a glance before turning fully back toward Adrian.
Jordan’s jaw tightened beside her.
But Maya was already walking away.
Fast enough to escape before th
e heat rising in her face became obvious.
She turned the corner quickly, breathing unevenly now.
Stupid.
She should’ve known better.
People like Adrian belonged to Vanessa’s world.
Not hers.
Behind her, rehearsal music started again.
And somewhere deep inside her chest, something fragile quietly began pulling itself shut.
- Writer
