CHAPTER 6 — The Distance She Tries to Keep
683 Words
Lana didn’t panic.
She adjusted.
That was the difference.
Most people
once they got Kris Lee’s attention
they leaned into it.
Followed it.
Chased it.
Lana did the opposite.
She stepped back.
Not obviously.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough.
Different schedule requests. More time in background tasks. Less direct contact.
Careful.
Controlled.
Necessary.
Because before...
was a mistake.
Not the outcome.
The pace.
“…Too fast,” she murmured quietly, eyes scanning the new schedule in her hand.
She needed to slow it down.
Rebalance.
Before it became something she couldn’t control.
Across the studio
Kris noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
It wasn’t her presence that caught his attention.
It was the absence.
Subtle.
But intentional.
She didn’t come when she usually would. Didn’t position herself within reach. Didn’t linger.
She moved
like she was avoiding patterns.
Avoiding him.
Interesting.
Very.
“Where’s Lana?”
His manager looked up, slightly confused.
“…She’s assigned to support second unit today.”
Kris’ gaze didn’t shift.
“Who assigned that?”
A pause.
“…She requested it.”
That
was new.
Kris went still.
Then
slowly
“Change it.”
“…She specifically asked...”
“I didn’t.”
Silence.
That was enough.
“…Understood.”
Lana felt the change before she saw it.
Again.
Her updated schedule arrived without explanation.
Main unit.
Of course.
Her fingers tightened slightly.
“…So he noticed.”
Not surprising.
But
faster than expected.
The waiting room was quieter than the set.
Dim lights. Minimal noise. A place meant for pauses.
Lana stood near the table, reviewing notes.
Not hiding.
But not visible either.
“You’re difficult to find.”
Her hand stilled.
She didn’t turn immediately.
Didn’t react.
“…I’m working.”
Then
she looked up.
Kris stood a few steps away.
Watching her.
Not casually.
Intentionally.
“You requested a transfer.”
Direct.
No buildup.
Lana held his gaze.
“Yes.”
No denial.
No excuse.
Just truth.
That
shifted something.
Kris stepped closer.
“Why?”
A simple question.
But not simple at all.
Lana exhaled slowly.
Because this
was the real test.
“…Because it’s easier.”
“Easier than what?”
A pause.
Then
“…Than being noticed.”
Silence.
But it didn’t feel calm.
It felt
tight.
Kris studied her carefully.
“You asked for my attention.”
A step closer.
“And now you’re avoiding it.”
There it was.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
Lana didn’t step back.
Not yet.
“…I didn’t expect it to work this quickly.”
Honest.
Again.
Reckless.
Or
strategic.
Kris’ gaze darkened slightly.
“So now you’re stepping away?”
“…I’m adjusting.”
“Why?”
Another step closer.
Now
too close again.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Low.
Controlled.
But sharp.
That
was new.
Lana felt it.
The shift.
This wasn’t just curiosity anymore.
This was
control.
Her fingers tightened slightly against the notebook she was holding.
Then
slowly
she stepped back.
Breaking the distance.
Intentional.
Clear.
“I should go,” she said.
Not rushed.
Not nervous.
Just
decided.
Kris didn’t move.
Didn’t stop her.
But his voice
cut through the space just as she turned.
“Don’t.”
She paused.
Slowly
looked back.
“What?”
“Don’t decide when to disappear.”
The words were quiet.
But heavier than before.
Because this time
they weren’t a suggestion.
Lana held his gaze.
For a second.
Two.
Then
“…Then don’t notice me.”
Silence.
The words landed
clean.
Sharp.
And completely unexpected.
Kris stilled.
Not visibly.
But enough.
Because that
wasn’t how this usually went.
Lana didn’t wait for a response.
She turned
and walked away.
No hesitation.
No second look.
No apology.
And for the first time
Kris didn’t follow.
Because something about that moment
felt different.
Not like a game.
Not like control.
Like
something had just slipped.
His jaw tightened slightly.
“…Interesting.”
But the word didn’t sound amused.
Not entirely.
Because now
this wasn’t just about teaching anymore.
It was about
not letting her walk away.
And that—
was new.
- Writer
