Chapter 10 It Wasnt Supposed to Happen #2
The scene was supposed to be easy.
They were sitting together on the couch, talking about something trivial.
The dialogue was simple.
Ling had to ask Orm about her day.
Orm had to complain about work.
Ling had to tease her.
Orm had to laugh.
Then there was supposed to be a pause.
A look.
A gradual movement closer.
And finally, the kiss.
They had rehearsed it twice.
It should have been mechanical.
Instead, the moment they began, Orm forgot every instruction.
Ling looked at her.
Not like the Executive Director.
Not like the woman pretending to be her lover.
Just Ling.
Orm smiled.
Ling smiled back.
"You've been quiet," Ling said.
"Have I?"
"Yes."
"Maybe I'm tired."
"You worked too late again."
"You did too."
Ling smiled.
"That's different."
Orm laughed.
The director had wanted warmth.
They had it.
He had wanted natural chemistry.
They had that too.
Then the dialogue ended.
The script called for silence.
They were supposed to look at each other.
Then move closer.
Orm did.
Ling did too.
The camera continued recording.
The crew watched.
And yet somehow, Orm stopped noticing any of them.
She could only see Ling.
The distance between them disappeared.
Ling's eyes dropped to her lips.
Orm's breath caught.
This was the moment.
The kiss.
The one they had rehearsed.
The one they were supposed to perform.
Orm closed her eyes.
Ling leaned closer.
Their lips met.
Softly.
Briefly.
Perfectly.
And completely wrong.
Because it didn't feel like acting.
?
The director didn't call cut.
Not immediately.
The kiss lasted only a few seconds.
But neither of them moved away.
Orm opened her eyes.
Ling was still there.
Their faces remained close.
The camera continued rolling.
Someone behind the monitor whispered something.
Neither heard it.
Orm's fingers tightened slightly around the fabric of Ling's sleeve.
Ling's hand came up.
She touched Orm's cheek.
It wasn't in the script.
Orm knew that.
Ling knew that.
And yet neither stopped.
The second kiss wasn't supposed to happen.
It wasn't part of the choreography.
It wasn't part of the campaign.
It wasn't supposed to exist.
But Ling leaned in again.
And Orm met her halfway.
This kiss was different.
There was no performance in it.
No camera.
No audience.
No Aurelia.
No Veyra.
No rules.
Just them.
The world seemed to disappear.
Orm felt Ling's hand against her cheek, gentle and almost uncertain.
She felt herself lean closer.
Her heart was beating violently.
She could hear nothing except the faint sound of her own breathing.
And then the director finally shouted,
"Cut!"
They separated.
Not quickly.
Not dramatically.
Just slowly, as though neither knew how to return to reality.
The studio came rushing back.
The lights.
The cameras.
The crew.
The set.
The people.
Orm stared at Ling.
Ling stared back.
Neither spoke.
The director looked delighted.
"That was—"
He stopped.
Because perhaps even he had noticed.
The kiss had gone somewhere the script hadn't asked it to go.
"Let's take five," he said.
Nobody moved.
Then Ling stepped away.
Orm watched her walk toward the other side of the set.
She didn't look back.
?
The crew began discussing the footage.
P'Cherry was speaking with the director.
Khun Dew was reviewing something with the client representatives.
Fluke looked at Orm.
Then at Ling.
Then back at Orm.
He wisely said nothing.
Bow approached.
"You okay?"
Orm nodded.
"Fine."
Bow looked unconvinced.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Because you look like you've just seen a ghost."
Orm laughed nervously.
"Maybe I have."
Bow lowered her voice.
"Was that supposed to happen?"
Orm looked toward Ling.
"No."
Bow nodded slowly.
"Right."
She didn't ask anything else.
Orm appreciated her for it.
Across the room, Ling was speaking with Khun Dew.
Her expression was perfectly composed.
Too composed.
Orm knew that face now.
It was the face Ling wore when she was trying desperately not to show what she was feeling.
Orm looked away.
Her lips still tingled.
She hated that.
She hated that she could still feel the kiss.
She hated that she wanted another one.
And most of all, she hated that the first kiss between them had happened when neither of them was supposed to mean it.
?
The shoot continued.
But something had changed.
Every scene afterward felt different.
Ling remained professional.
Orm tried to do the same.
They completed the remaining shots.
A hand held across the kitchen counter.
A shared laugh beside the window.
A quiet embrace.
None of them felt quite as innocent anymore.
The crew praised their chemistry.
The director said the footage was beautiful.
The client representatives were thrilled.
P'Cherry looked relieved.
Khun Dew looked thoughtful.
Only Ling and Orm seemed to understand that something had gone terribly wrong.
Or wonderfully right.
Neither knew which.
When the final shot ended, the crew applauded.
Orm smiled.
Ling smiled.
They stood beside each other for the photographs.
But their hands didn't touch.
Their eyes didn't meet.
And when the photographer asked them to move closer, Ling took one small step forward.
Orm did the same.
Their shoulders touched.
Neither looked at the other.
The photographer smiled.
"Perfect."
Orm thought,
No.
It wasn't perfect.
It was dangerous.
?
The drive back to Veyra was quiet.
Orm sat beside the window.
Ling sat in the front.
Neither spoke.
The kiss sat between them like an invisible third passenger.
When they arrived at the office, everyone went their separate ways.
Orm walked toward the creative department.
Ling headed toward the executive corridor.
She didn't look back.
Orm watched her disappear.
Something inside her sank.
She had expected something.
She didn't know what.
A smile.
A joke.
A conversation.
Anything.
Instead, Ling had walked away.
Again.
Just like Thursday night.
Except this time, Orm couldn't convince herself that it was because Ling was afraid.
Maybe Ling regretted it.
Maybe the kiss had meant nothing.
Maybe Orm had imagined everything.
That possibility hurt more than she expected.
?
At seven thirty, Orm received a message.
LING: Are you still at the office?
Orm stared at it.
She typed.
ORM: Yes.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then returned.
LING: We need to talk.
Orm's heart dropped.
ORM: Okay.
They met in one of the smaller conference rooms.
Ling was already there.
She stood near the window.
Orm closed the door behind her.
Neither spoke.
Finally, Ling said,
"About today..."
Orm nodded.
"I know."
"You shouldn't have..."
Ling stopped.
Orm waited.
"You shouldn't have kissed me."
The words hurt.
Orm looked away.
"I know."
Ling's expression changed.
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
Ling struggled.
"I don't know."
Orm laughed softly.
"That's becoming your favourite answer."
"I don't know what happened."
"I do."
Ling looked at her.
"We forgot."
"Forgot what?"
"That we were pretending."
Silence.
Orm's voice softened.
"The cameras were on."
"Not when..."
Ling stopped.
Orm looked at her.
"Not when what?"
Ling shook her head.
"Nothing."
Orm stepped closer.
"Say it."
Ling looked away.
"The second kiss."
Orm's heart raced.
"What about it?"
"The camera wasn't recording."
Orm froze.
Neither spoke.
Ling looked at her.
"The camera stopped after the director called cut."
Orm stared.
She hadn't known.
Ling continued.
"We were still..."
She couldn't finish.
Orm did.
"Kissing."
Ling nodded.
Orm swallowed.
"So the first kiss was for the campaign."
"Yes."
"And the second wasn't."
"No."
The silence became unbearable.
Orm whispered,
"Then why?"
Ling looked at her.
"I don't know."
Orm smiled sadly.
"You do."
Ling didn't answer.
"You just don't want to say it."
Ling's eyes filled with something Orm couldn't name.
"Orm..."
"Do you regret it?"
Ling went completely still.
She didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Orm looked down.
"Okay."
She turned toward the door.
"Orm."
She stopped.
Ling didn't say anything else.
Orm waited.
Nothing came.
She opened the door.
"Goodnight, Ling."
She left.
Ling remained alone.
?
Orm drove home without remembering the journey.
She parked beneath her apartment building and sat in the car for several minutes.
She didn't want to go upstairs.
She didn't want to think.
Unfortunately, thinking was all she had done for the last hour.
When she finally entered her apartment, she dropped her bag near the door and changed into comfortable clothes.
She made tea.
Forgot about it.
Made another.
Forgot that too.
Eventually she gave up.
She climbed into bed.
The room was dark.
She stared at the ceiling.
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
Twenty.
She turned onto her side.
Closed her eyes.
Opened them again.
The kiss returned.
She could still feel it.
The softness.
The hesitation.
The way Ling had touched her cheek.
The way Ling had leaned closer after the first kiss instead of pulling away.