Chapter 12
The following morning I arrive at the studio for our kissing scene feeling like I might burst into flames.
Avi and I managed to avoid arrest, splitting up and getting separate Ubers home to avoid being caught together and causing an actual press catastrophe.
My stomach twists at the idea of what Sienna would have thought, seeing those photos.
But nothing happened. It was just two people, in a park.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
To stave off the crashing guilt and horror about what I might’ve done, had I not come to my senses before the park police arrived.
I am not this person – I am not impulsive.
I do not step over the line into other people’s relationships.
Especially not the relationships of people who seem to be genuinely nice human beings, who have done nothing but welcome me to an unfamiliar environment and lend me dresses and give me tips on crystals (which, while misguided, were genuinely well-intentioned).
And yet, yesterday, I almost did. I must be losing my mind, I think, as I make my way to set.
Not to mention the fact that I’m about to actually kiss him today.
On camera. In front of a whole room of people.
How I’m going to get through that, I have no idea.
It’s so ironic, too, because the Olivier Awards actually went well – were a success, even.
I should be feeling good about this. But I don’t.
Roman passes me on my way to set. Waves, with a slightly malevolent smile. But even his usual weird behaviour doesn’t register today. Because I have other – much bigger – things to worry about.
‘Hi,’ Avi says when I reach him. ‘How are you feeling about today—’
‘Fine,’ I say, keeping my expression level. Determined not to talk about it. Because if I do, I’ll freak out. And I can’t afford to freak out right now. I’ll have to park my mental breakdown – as Nat would say – and have it later on, in my trailer.
This scene that we’re about to film is the culmination of everything Avi and I have been working towards for the last few weeks.
Everything we’ve been trying to do together.
It’s a rewritten version of the scene we ran in our audition – now no longer in a pub.
Now a full kiss scene. And a million times more terrifying.
I need to stay focused, to keep my cool – I can’t let anything get in the way of this film.
The intimacy coordinator waits for us to hit our marks, then introduces himself.
His name is Harold, and he’s dressed in a vibrant pink shirt and a pair of chinos.
A pair of bright blue glasses frames his face.
I’ve never worked with an intimacy coordinator before, but from my understanding he’ll break the scene down into mechanics, clearing our consent for each aspect of it.
I close my eyes momentarily, preparing myself.
‘Right,’ he says. ‘The first thing to establish is that we’re all comfortable with the run of play. Lara, is it okay if Avi takes hold of your waist?’ I nod and Avi gently places his hand on my waist. My pulse immediately increases.
‘Now. Would you be comfortable with him pulling you in?’ Harold asks.
‘Y-yes,’ I say and Avi’s grip tightens. He pulls me towards him in one movement, our bodies flush against one another.
‘Right, now if you could look up, Lara,’ Harold says, ‘that would be great.’ I tilt my chin upwards. ‘Would you be happy for Avi to take hold of your face?’
And as much as I’m trying to keep control of myself in this scene, as much as I’m aware he has a girlfriend – whose dress is currently hanging in my room like a symbol of my treachery – I find myself back in the park last night.
Thinking about how he looked at me right before we almost…
Avi places his hand on my cheek, his fingers grazing my jaw. Sending electric pulses across my skin.
‘And then, you will kiss,’ Harold says, with all the excitement of my old manager at the paper factory.
It pulls me out of the moment for a second and I almost laugh.
I’m going insane, I think to myself. Because I honestly feel unhinged in this moment.
Avi looks at me inquisitively and I bite my lip.
‘Are you happy with that?’ Harold asks, looking at us both.
Yes, I think. The word slipping into my consciousness quicker than it should. Oh, God.
‘O-okay,’ I breathe.
‘Sure,’ Avi says, his voice low. He gently removes his hands from me and steps backwards. I stumble on my feet slightly before I straighten up.
‘I’ll just check in with Alessandro. The safe word is “hold” – if you need to pull out of the scene, say that and we’ll cut, no questions asked. Does that work?’
We both nod, my heart hammering.
‘Great,’ Harold says. He moves over towards the monitors, and I see both Alessandro and the first AD leaning in to hear his report. I pull at the folds of my dress, willing myself into character. Waiting for the cue to begin.
‘Right, my wonderful stars,’ Alessandro says, looking at us with pride and expectation. ‘Now is the time to dig deep. This is the big scene, okay? I need big feeling.’
I avoid looking at Avi and nod, a swirl of nausea curling in my chest. ‘Action!’ Alessandro calls, after a few seconds. And I straighten my shoulders, delivering my line.
‘Jackson, this isn’t right…’ I pause. ‘You’re a detective now. Or at least an assistant. You need to behave more professionally.’
Amelia is telling Jackson off for getting drunk and compromising a witness by getting in a bar fight. Their conversation is heated, which helps – I channel some of my apprehension into tension, anger.
‘I know,’ Avi says. ‘But you’re avoiding my question, Amelia.’
‘Your question doesn’t matter,’ I say. ‘What matters is that you compromised the integrity of our case. Compromised a witness, Jackson. You’re letting your personal feelings cloud your judgement.’
‘I am,’ he says. ‘In more ways than one. Now, let me ask you again. Do you remember what I said to you the other night?’
‘No,’ I say. He takes a step towards me.
‘I think you do,’ he says. ‘And I think you love me too, Amelia. And I think you’re scared to admit it.’
‘The case is the only thing that matters,’ I say, my heart pounding. ‘Nothing else.’
‘You matter,’ he says. And then he takes the cue. Placing his hand on my waist. ‘You matter to me, Amelia.’ My heart is practically in my throat at this point. Avi pulls me towards him, his grip tightening. My lips parting slightly as I look up at him.
And then, just like that, he’s kissing me.
His lips press against mine – gently at first, then more firm.
His hand gripping my dress as he strengthens his hold, pulling me towards him until our bodies are pressed against one another.
And somewhere I’m aware that this is a film set, that there are more than a few people watching us in this moment.
But the rest of me is here, the room shrinking down to just me and him.
The warmth of his body, his soft lips. The way his hand cups my face, his fingers grazing my jaw and setting me on fire.
It’s good – too good. So many things spilling through in this moment. His face, in the park. The kiss, from years ago. Everything I’ve been keeping at bay for the last few weeks – for the sake of the film. Unlocked now.
‘Cut!’ Alessandro calls.
I step back, my world feeling like it’s tilting on its axis.
My body thrumming with desire for him. A want, a need, to step forwards and kiss him again.
And then everything else: crashing guilt about having these feelings at all.
The emotions I had last night. Seeing him clearly for the first time since we’ve been thrown into each other’s lives again.
Everything I felt, the first time he kissed me.
Before he disappeared. Like everything we experienced up to that point led to that moment.
Like he and I were on a collision course for something.
And it’s how I feel again now. But it can’t be.
Because he’s not mine any more. Never was.
Avi looks a little shell-shocked too – he runs his hand through his hair, an expression on his face that I can’t quite pinpoint and am not sure if I even want to.
Alessandro comes over, enthusing about the take.
Letting us know that he thinks we got it on the first try, which is pretty much unheard of for a kiss.
Though he’d like to do a few more takes, just to be sure.
But I’m only capable of one thought. The ghost of a feeling that has been following me since last night, since Avi placed his hand on the small of my back during the photographs.
Since I almost kissed him in the park, and ruined everything.
That – even with the best of intentions – if I got too close to him, if I let the distance between us start to melt away like I have in the past few days in order to do a better job on-set, there might be consequences.
Pandora’s box might open and all my unresolved feelings for him might spill out.
And I’m pretty sure that’s what just happened when we kissed.
‘Still on for my birthday party next week?’ Alison asks over FaceTime a few hours later.
I’ve been sitting in my trailer since we finished filming the scene, pretty much staring into space and trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do about all these emotions that have suddenly surged up.
I have my first and only scene with Deborah West this afternoon – a living legend and pretty much my idol since I was twelve – which I’m determined to nail, but I find myself unable to focus on anything but Avi.
So I was relieved to see Alison’s name flash up on my phone screen.
She’s been telling me about the under-the-sea theme for her party and putting the final plans in place.
Including a lobster costume I have begrudgingly agreed to wear.
‘Of course,’ I reply.