CHAPTER 7 — The Absence He Notices
848 Words
It didn’t happen all at once.
That would have been easier.
Noticeable.
Simple.
But Lana didn’t disappear.
She reduced.
Less eye contact. Less proximity. Less timing that aligned too perfectly.
Still present.
Still working.
Still exactly where she was supposed to be
Just never where he expected her.
Kris noticed on the second day.
Not the first.
The first could be coincidence.
Scheduling.
Timing.
Work.
But the second
was pattern.
“Where is she?”
The question came casually.
Too casually.
His manager glanced up. “Who?”
A pause.
Then
“The stylist.”
“…Which one?”
Kris didn’t answer immediately.
Because he knew exactly which one.
But saying it
made it something else.
“…The new one.”
Recognition clicked.
“…Lana?”
Silence.
That was enough.
“She’s assigned to second rotation today.”
Of course she was.
Kris leaned back slightly.
Unbothered.
At least
visibly.
“Leave it.”
His manager nodded.
But Kris’ attention didn’t return to the script in his hand.
Because now
he was aware of something else.
The space where she should have been.
Across the studio
Lana worked quietly behind a rack.
Not hiding.
Just
not visible.
She didn’t look toward the main set.
Didn’t check timing.
Didn’t wait.
Perfect.
Too perfect.
By the third day
Kris was irritated.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough
for him.
“Call time.”
“Ready.”
“Next setup.”
Everything moved as it should.
Everything
except his focus.
It slipped.
Briefly.
Consistently.
Because she wasn’t there.
“…Where is she today?”
This time
he didn’t pretend.
His manager glanced up again.
“…Still on second unit.”
A pause.
“…Do you want her reassigned?”
Kris didn’t answer immediately.
His jaw tightened
just slightly.
Barely visible.
But there.
“Yes.”
Across the building
Lana stared at the updated schedule.
Again.
Main unit.
Her grip tightened.
“…Persistent.”
Not surprised.
But
faster.
More direct.
She exhaled slowly.
Then folded the paper.
“Fine.”
The hallway outside the main set was quieter.
Lana stepped into it
already knowing.
“You’re avoiding me.”
She didn’t stop walking.
“…You can see, I’m always working.”
Then
she turned.
Kris stood a few steps away.
Closer than before.
More direct.
No pretense.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Lana held his gaze.
Calm.
Controlled.
“…Then ask something else.”
A beat.
That
was new.
Kris stepped forward.
This time
not testing.
Not waiting.
Decided.
“You’re avoiding me.”
Not a question.
Lana didn’t answer immediately.
Because this
was no longer subtle.
“…I’m adjusting.”
The same word.
But now
it carried weight.
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t part of my job.”
Honest.
Clean.
Kris’ gaze sharpened.
“You made it part of your job.”
A step closer.
“You asked me to teach you.”
There it was.
Clear.
Lana didn’t step back.
Not yet.
“…I did.”
“Then don’t step away now.”
Low.
Controlled.
And there it was again
that edge.
That control.
Lana felt it.
The pressure.
The shift.
This wasn’t curiosity anymore.
This was
expectation.
Her fingers curled slightly at her side.
Then
she stepped back.
Small.
But deliberate.
“I decide that.”
Quiet.
But firm.
Silence.
Kris moved.
Just one step.
Fast enough
to close the space again.
Not touching.
Not yet.
But blocking.
For a moment
Lana couldn’t move forward.
The air tightened.
“You don’t get to start something like this,” he said quietly,
“and walk away when it becomes inconvenient.”
That
was different.
Not amused.
Not curious.
Controlled
but sharper.
Lana held his gaze.
Didn’t step back again.
Didn’t try to push past him.
“…Then what do I get to do?”
A beat.
That question
landed.
Kris didn’t answer immediately.
Because for the first time
he wasn’t entirely sure.
And that
irritated him.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing,” he said.
Low.
Measured.
“Then explain it.”
Immediate.
Too immediate.
Kris’ jaw tightened again.
Slight.
But visible this time.
Silence stretched.
Longer.
Tighter.
Then
slowly
he stepped aside.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he chose to.
“Go.”
The word was quiet.
Flat.
But not dismissive.
Lana didn’t move immediately.
Just a second.
Long enough
to register it.
Then
she stepped past him.
Close enough
to feel the shift in the air again.
But she didn’t look back.
Didn’t slow down.
Didn’t hesitate.
And that
was the problem.
Kris remained still.
For a second.
Two.
Then
his hand flexed slightly at his side.
Like he almost reached for her.
But didn’t.
“…You started this.”
The words were quiet.
But heavier now.
His gaze followed her
until she disappeared completely.
“…Don’t stop halfway.”
Because now
this wasn’t just interest.
It wasn’t just curiosity.
And it definitely
wasn’t control anymore.
It was something sharper.
Something he didn’t name.
But he felt it.
And he didn’t like
that she could walk away from it.
- Writer
