Blooper Reel
Lilith: “Alright, Violet. This is the big meet-cute. You’re nervous, but hopeful. You walk into the restaurant, spot her at the table, and your heart skips a beat. Simple. Ready?
Violet: “Nervous. Hopeful. Heart skip. Don’t fall on my face. Got it.”
I push through the heavy oak door of Zelo, the scent of garlic and rosemary washing over me.
My eyes scan the dim, candlelit room. There.
At the corner table by the window, backlit by the Milanese sunset, is Skye.
She looks up, and even from across the room, that green gaze feels like a physical touch.
Heart skipping, check.
I offer what I hope is a demure, slightly breathless smile and begin my walk of destiny toward her. This is it. The slow-motion moment. My dress, a delicate black number, swaying gracefully around my thighs.
Then, my toe catches on the absolute nothingness of a perfectly smooth, ancient stone floor.
Time doesn’t slow down; it accelerates into a chaotic blur. A gasp gets tangled in my throat. My arms are a windmill in panic. The demure smile twists into a mask of pure, unadulterated…
“OH SHIT!”
I pitch forward, not graceful in the least. A fully committed center-stage sprawl.
The world tilts, and with a soft whoosh of air and fabric, my dress obeys the laws of physics, floating up around my waist as I descend.
For one horrifying second, I am spread-eagle on the floor of a Michelin-starred restaurant, giving the entire dining room, including the elderly couple by the antipasto bar and the sommelier, a pristine view of my lace-trimmed blush-pink underwear.
The room falls silent, save for the gentle strains of a Vivaldi concerto.
From my vantage point, I see Skye’s chair scrape back.
She’s standing, but she isn’t rushing over in concern.
She’s just… staring. One hand is clamped over her mouth, her shoulders are shaking violently, and her bright green eyes are squeezed shut.
She is quite clearly trying, and failing, not to completely lose her shit laughing.
Lilith: “Aaaaaand cut! Violet, honey, that was a very committed entrance. Wardrobe, we’re going to need a longer slip.
Maybe some leggings. Skye, try to look chivalrous, not like you’re watching the funniest thing since the invention of the slapshot.
Let’s reset. Someone get our star off the floor, please. ”