Chapter 25 #3
“There weren’t problems with the last two,” Lilia snaps, her boot tapping impatiently against the concrete. “They just didn’t follow the schedule. They knew what was expected, said they could do it, and failed. We don’t have time for incompetence.”
I blink, staying very still, feeling the sting of her attitude even though it’s not directed at me.
I can feel the crew’s discomfort rippling through the space too.
Someone coughs. I want to argue that unforeseen circumstances happen, that construction delays aren’t always about incompetence, that maybe their timeline was unrealistic to begin with.
But this is my first segment back, Dain is already watching me closely, and picking a fight with the homeowner on camera isn’t the way to prove I belong here.
“What’s the overall vision for the kitchen?”
Lilia’s tapping intensifies, like I’m personally ruining their timeline just by existing. Mac’s arms tighten across his chest, face pinched, a vein pulsing in his temple. “We’re keeping it modern and sophisticated, but that’s all I’ll say.”
The temperature in the room feels like it’s dropped. I can see Dain out of the corner of my eye, nodding approvingly at their answer—drama is good for ratings.
But something in me rebels. Pulse Point isn’t about cold minimalism. It’s about preserving character while updating functionality. It’s about homes that feel warm and lived-in, not like display homes. And these two are completely missing that.
Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Do you think that’s a good choice for this area?”
Silence.
Lilia’s boot stops tapping. Mac’s eyes finally meet mine. I can see Zac straightening in my peripheral vision, his posture alert.
“Cut!” Dain yells across the set.
My heart drops, palms instantly sweaty against the scooter’s handles.
Storming up to me, Dain’s face is red, that vein in his forehead pulsing. The crew parts, everyone suddenly very interested in their equipment. Lilia and Mac seize the opportunity to escape, walking briskly back toward their house without a backward glance.
“What was that?” Dain demands, stopping inches from me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. “That wasn’t in the script.”
My hands grip the scooter tighter, but I lift my chin anyway.
“I know. But it was a valid question. Their house isn’t really Pulse Point style.
It’s completely modern and cold in a neighborhood that’s all about historic charm.
The whole point of the show is renovating with respect for the area’s character, and they’re building something that looks like it belongs in downtown LA, not—”
“I don’t care what you think,” Dain interrupts. “You follow the script. That’s your job. You’re here to ask the questions we give you and look pretty doing it. That’s it.”
Anger rises in my chest. I open my mouth to respond, but then I feel Zac’s presence. He’s moving closer, just off to my right, not interfering, but making his presence known.
Dain notices too, his eyes flicking to Zac, then back to me. Some of the aggression drains from his posture, but his expression remains hard.
“This is your first day back.” Dain continues, his voice slightly more controlled, but no less threatening. “You’re already on thin ice. One more stunt like that, and you’re done. We’ll get someone else. Someone who can follow simple instructions.”
My throat tightens. I want to argue, to defend myself, but the words are stuck. He’s right about one thing: I just got back. I can’t afford to lose this.
“Understood,” I manage to say through a fake smile.
Dain holds my gaze for another long moment, then turns away. “Everyone take five. We’ll reset and do it again. And this time”—he shoots me a look over his shoulder—“stick to the script.”
The crew breaks away immediately.
I exhale slowly, my hands shaking slightly.
Zac is beside me in an instant, whispering into my ear. “You okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice yet.
“That was a good question… for what it’s worth.”
I glance up at him, and there’s a flicker of pride, maybe, or respect. It makes the tightness in my chest ease slightly.
“Thanks,” I whisper. “But maybe it wasn’t worth my job.”
“Maybe it was,” he counters. There’s a guarded look in his eyes that makes me think he has opinions about Dain and this whole production that he’s keeping to himself.
Karyn appears with a water bottle, Mia close behind with powder to touch up my face. Jaina hovers nearby, looking concerned.
“You good?” Karyn asks softly.
“Yeah,” I say, accepting the water. “Just need a minute.”
Zac’s hand finds the small of my back, and I lean into it slightly, drawing strength from his presence. I catch Karyn’s eye over Mia’s shoulder, and she raises her eyebrows just enough to ask a question I don’t have an answer to yet. I give her the smallest shake of my head. Not now.
I have four more minutes before we reset. Minutes to pull myself together and remember why I’m here.
I take a long drink of water and let Mia work her magic, trying to ignore the way my heart is still racing, partly from the confrontation, partly from Zac’s hand still resting against my back.
This is going to be a long day.