Chapter 17
Liam
The scene today was emotional. Nothing romantic on paper, just two characters laying things bare. Which only made it harder, because there was no distance to hide behind, no action to mask what was bleeding through.
He had barely slept in three nights, not since the moment in the car.
His head felt stuffed with cotton and his body was running on nerves and caffeine.
No matter how hard he tried, he kept missing his mark and stumbling over lines.
He tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out thin.
When he asked for a cue again, Ellen peered over her glasses like he’d become a problem.
“Let’s all take five,” she said, clipped.
The crew scattered. A makeup artist made a beeline toward him, but he waved her off, needing air more than powder. He bowed his head, dragging a hand over his face.
He didn’t expect Jacob to move, but when he looked up, he was walking toward him with that steady pace.
Casual, but careful, like he wasn’t sure if Liam would bolt.
Jacob stopped beside him, shoulder to shoulder without looking his way, and held out a cold water bottle.
Liam blinked before taking it, his fingers brushing Jacob’s in the exchange.
“It’s not the lines,” Jacob said quietly. His voice was the kind of low that sank under Liam’s skin. “You’re overthinking.”
Liam let out a short, shaky breath. “Yeah, well, that’s what I do.”
Jacob kept his gaze forward. “You’re better when you let yourself feel it.”
Liam’s mouth twisted and a bitter self-mocking laugh scraped out. “That hasn’t exactly been working out lately.”
“I know, but you don’t need to control it. It’s already in you.”
He shook his head, eyes dropping to the label of the bottle. “Coming from the king of control?”
For the first time in days, Jacob actually smiled. “That works for me. You—” He hesitated. “You burn brighter when you let go.”
Liam huffed under his breath, trying to soften the way those words landed. “Yeah, and sometimes I explode.”
Jacob finally glanced at him with steady eyes. “That’s not always a bad thing.”
Liam lifted an eyebrow. “You saying chaos looks good on me?”
“I’m saying it looks real.”
The silence that followed pressed down like a hand to the chest.
“You’re not failing,” Jacob said. “You just care too much.”
Liam turned his head, searching his face. “Is that supposed to be comforting?”
“Your emotion shows,” Jacob continued. “Even when you’re struggling. Especially then. It’s real. People feel it.”
The words cracked something open in his chest. He dropped his gaze, peeling at the label of his bottle to keep from fidgeting too hard. The break was ending and the crew shuffled back into place. Jacob straightened and gave a single nod toward the set. “You’ve got this. Just breathe.”
When they called action, Liam stepped into the scene, and this time he didn’t miss a beat, each word pulled from someplace raw.
When Ellen called cut, her face was lit with something close to relief.
Someone clapped. Someone else muttered “finally.” Jacob didn’t say a word, but when their eyes met across the set, pride burned clear in his gaze.
* * *
Later that night, Liam regretted the double date before the first drink even made it to the table.
Cassie had picked the place—because of course she did—and this time she really outdid herself.
It was some “multi-sensory dining experience” in a renovated observatory.
There was a host in silk robes who greeted them with: “Welcome to the cosmos of flavor.”
With each course the ceiling changed—blue lights for the first course, red for the second, and green for the third—drenching the whole room in color.
As if that wasn’t weird enough, every table had “emotional touchpads” they were encouraged to press before each course, so the chef could “align intention with taste.” Cassie kept slapping “euphoric.” Liam lied and pressed “centered.”
Cassie’s boyfriend of the week introduced himself as Teo—not Theo.
Teo. He wore a vest made of repurposed denim, and told them all in a gentle voice about the months he’d lived in a treehouse in Big Sur to reclaim his sense of time.
Emma nodded politely, like that was the most reasonable thing in the world.
Across the table, Emma’s smile was soft and open, warmth spilling in every direction. She laughed, asked Teo thoughtful questions, and when she slid Liam his drink, her fingers brushed his wrist—a touch so gentle it landed heavier than it should have.
When the violet light dimmed for dessert, Emma’s hand found his arm again. Liam shifted back, not sharply, but enough to let her warmth fall away. He didn’t know why he did it, only that something in him recoiled from the tenderness he couldn’t return.
Her hand slipped down, her smile faltering for barely a breath.
It was so subtle most people would have missed it, but Liam caught it, and the knowledge pressed heavy in his chest. It was a reminder of everything he couldn’t seem to give her, everything that should have been easy but wasn’t anymore.
Cassie noticed too. She always did. Her eyes flicked across the table, catching the empty space where Emma’s hand had been. She didn’t call him out, not with Emma sitting there, but she leaned close enough to murmur, “Need a breather? Let’s go outside and look at the stars.”
Liam’s chest tightened as he excused himself. When Emma glanced up, her smile was already back in place. She turned back to Teo without missing a beat, who was in the middle of explaining the emotional honesty of unfiltered olive oil.
The observatory’s terrace was strung with soft lights, and the air was sharp and cool against his overheated skin.
The city haze blurred the stars but not enough to ruin them.
Cassie leaned against the stone railing, arms folded, gaze tipped upward.
He joined her, resting his palms on the cold ledge as the night air prickled across his face.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
Liam leaned forward, the stone biting into his palms. “It’s been a long week.”
Cassie made a low hum of agreement. “You didn’t look like you were in the same room tonight. You kept zoning out. Emma reached for you a couple of times and you looked like you forgot she was there.”
He exhaled slowly. “It’s fine.”
Cassie gave him a look sharp enough to cut through the night. “No, it’s not. You’ve checked out.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have.” Her voice didn’t soften. “You barely touched her. Just a few months ago you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, but tonight I even saw you pull away.”
Liam looked away, his eyes returning to the hazy stars. “It’s complicated.”
“No,” Cassie’s tone didn’t budge. “It’s messy. There’s a difference.” She leaned her shoulder into his. “Stop lying to me. Hell, stop lying to yourself.”
“I’m not.” The words came out rougher than he meant. He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to lie.”
“I know.” She was quiet for a moment, then simply asked, “Is it him?”
Liam’s pulse jumped. He didn’t answer.
Cassie’s nod was slow. “Thought so.”
Silence stretched. The air felt too heavy, pressing in on his ribs. He dragged his hands through his hair, pacing two steps down the patio before swinging back.
“It’s not just him,” he said, the words spilling out. “It’s everything. It’s… I don’t know. I’m tired, Cass. So fucking tired. I keep trying to step back into this version of my life, and it should fit, but something’s always off. Like my own skin’s shrunk and I can’t stretch back into it.”
She waited patiently, watching him spin.
“And then he’s there and it’s… it’s just clear. There’s no more static. I see him and I remember something I didn’t realize I forgot. Like… being awake. And that’s so fucked up, because I’ve only known him a couple of months… but still.”
She didn’t respond right away, but when she did her voice was kind. “That sounds like it matters.”
He managed a small nod.
"Are you really going to pretend you don’t know what that means?"
He didn’t have an answer to that.
“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Just stop pretending it doesn’t matter.”
Inside, the dome shifted to gold as Saturn’s rings arced across the ceiling. At their table Teo sat with his eyes closed, palms raised toward the stars like he was channeling the secrets of the universe.
Cassie shook her head, exasperated. “Christ, let’s go back inside before he starts levitating.”
A ragged breath of laughter slipped out of him. “Yeah. Let’s.”