LIGURIA DISTRICT,CLARE IN IRELAND. HATHAWAY PRODUCTION SET...3 PM.
The moment Tyra stepped onto the set, Michael practically sprinted toward her, his relief painted across every inch of his face. At the very last second, he caught himself from pulling her into a hug, instead throwing up his hands dramatically.
"Thank you so much, Ty. Director Gary was one breath away from skinning me alive." He exhaled with a shaky flourish, pressing his palm to his chest like a man who'd just escaped a firing squad.
Tyra chuckled under her breath, that soft smile already melting the tension in the air.
"Oh, my dear Tyra, my best actress!" Director Gary's voice boomed across the set as he strutted toward her. "You're about to save us again. I knew you'd come. You never fail to amaze me."
Michael rolled his eyes with a theatrical groan. "She came to save her manager," he muttered under his breath. "You were one second from burying me six feet under."
Gary shot him a seething glare. "My only regret is that I didn't."
Without waiting for another word, he looped his arm through Tyra's and began steering her deeper into the set.
"Chit-chat's over. Time for work."
Tyra barely hid the exhaustion creeping into her expression. "You still haven't told me what scene I'm jumping into."
Gary waved her off like it was a minor detail. "Ah, don't worry. You're up with your prince charming." His grin widened as he tossed her a wink and left her standing at the edge of the set.
Tyra's feet instinctively carried her to the makeup room. Elena was already there, seated, her smile wide and awkward.
"Spill," Tyra said instantly. That smile only meant one of two things: teasing or trouble.
Elena's voice came softly, cautiously. "Tyra…"
The pause said everything.
"…Your next scene is with Ryan."
And there it was.
Tyra stared at her flatly. A tiny, knowing smile ghosted across her lips as she settled into the makeup chair. "Okay. Cool."
Elena blinked. "Wait, what?"
"I said it's fine."
"No, I mean...it's Ryan Adams. Like… Ryan. The. Adams."
Tyra's fingers tensed around the armrest. "I know it's Ryan fucking Adams," she muttered, her expression cracking as she squeezed her eyes shut.
"I'll survive this. I survived the date night, remember?"
That memory slammed into her without mercy,the worst night of her life, or at least second worst. Her jaw clenched. Her stomach turned. She pushed the image down with sheer force, but fragments clung to her like stubborn smoke.
"This day was always going to come," she whispered.
"…But you didn't expect it so soon," Elena finished gently, rubbing her shoulder.
Tyra didn't reply. Just a faint nod. A flicker of a smile. And then silence as the makeup artists moved in around her.
Everything's gonna be fine, she kept repeating in her head.
---
"Look into my eyes. What do you see?"
Kill's voice sliced through the air with brutal precision, his tone cold, commanding. His hands gripped Danna's chin like iron, his eyes devouring hers.
"I...I see… black and gold," Danna stammered, barely audible, barely breathing.
"Wrong answer," he growled, his voice dark with wrath.
Tyra winced as pain lanced through her jaw, the hold a little too real. The sound that escaped her throat was no longer acting,it was a genuine whimper.
"Cut!" Michael's voice boomed across the set.
All heads turned.
"Michael!" Gary roared. "Why in hell would you interrupt that take?!"
"He was hurting her!" Michael shot back. "You almost had her in a neck brace!"
"They were nailing it," Gary shouted. "This is one of the most critical scenes in the drama!"
Michael looked helplessly at Bione and Elena. Neither of them said a word, but their expressions mirrored his unease. Tyra, meanwhile, just watched him silently, that small smile still lingering,cool, unreadable.
"I won't interrupt again," Michael finally said. "But if he touches her like that again…" His eyes locked on Ryan's. "You'll be picking up your teeth."
Ryan didn't blink. He scoffed, his fingers still gently curled under Tyra's chin, as if the moment hadn't passed.
Gary rubbed his temples. "Can we please focus?"
Tyra gave a quick nod. Ryan offered only a smirk.
"ACTION!"
---
"Look into my eyes. Tell me what you see."
Kill's voice wrapped around Danna like a coil, trapping her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Her own eyes trembled as she tried to meet his stare,those black eyes flecked with dark gold.
"I… I see… black and gold," she whispered, barely more than a breath.
"Wrong answer!" Kill snarled. His grip tightened cruelly.
Michael's chair creaked loudly. The tension thickened. Everyone could feel it,but the actors were elsewhere now, somewhere deep within the scene.
"Look deeper, little fairy. Tell me what you really see."
Danna whimpered again. Her face, caught painfully in his hold, tilted upward. She wanted to look away...needed to...but she forced herself to stare.
Seconds passed like hours.
"Darkness," she whispered finally. "All I see is darkness."
"WRONG ANSWER!"
The roar shook the room. A sound so deep, so powerful, it felt supernatural. Like Mufasa, if Mufasa had been forged in hellfire.
Kill's hand clamped down again. Tyra's face twisted in genuine pain now. Red bloomed across her cheek, her jaw aching under the pressure.
"No,no,no...CUTTTTTTTTTTT!" Michael's voice rang out again, desperate now.
Gary turned to yell, but Michael was already pointing. "Her skin. Look at it,it's purple. That's not acting. That's real."
Gary paused. Hesitated. Michael wasn't wrong.
Most actresses would've bolted for a mirror or demanded medical attention. Tyra didn't even flinch.
"Tyra?" Gary asked softly. "Do you want to take a break? You might have a scar."
She waved it off. "No. Let's finish. I'll put ointment on later. I've got things to do."
"But..."
"I said I'm fine." Her tone snapped. No room for argument.
Michael stepped forward, worry in his eyes. "Tyra…"
"If you interrupt again..." she said coldly, "go wait outside."
Michael's mouth opened, then closed. He nodded.
"I understand." He left.
Gary sighed, then motioned to reset.
"ACTION!"
---
"WRONG ANSWER!"
Kill's fury cracked through the room again, and Danna flinched as if struck.
He dragged her face upward, towering over her, eyes drilling into hers.
This time, something shifted.
She couldn't look away. Couldn't blink. Couldn't breathe.
She stared into him...not just at him...and what she saw wasn't rage.
It was a door.
A window.
A glimpse of something impossible.
She forced herself to stare longer, to push past the pain, past the darkness...and what waited inside took her breath away.
Kill leaned in.
"What do you see, little fairy?"
She hesitated. Her lips trembled.
"I see… I see…" She faltered again.
"Tell me," he whispered. "Danna..."
The moment her name slipped from his mouth, something inside her snapped free.
"Paradise," she said breathlessly. "I see paradise."
Kill's face shifted, just barely. A soft, dangerous smile curled at his lips.
"That's right, sweet Danna." His voice dropped to a velvet murmur.
"What you saw was paradise. And guess what…" He leaned closer.
"You'll be the only one who ever sees it."
"Why?"
"Because it belongs to you. It cannot belong to anyone else."
---
The set erupted in applause. Crew members clapped, grinning ear to ear. It was magic. It was perfect.
But Tyra and Ryan?
They didn't move.
Still locked in that moment, still frozen in their pose. Her chin in his hand. His eyes in hers.
They didn't see the crew. They didn't hear the praise. They didn't feel the set anymore.
They were somewhere else entirely.
Director Gary stared at them, brows rising, the corners of his lips twitching. He chuckled softly.
"Ahem. Guys? Ahem, ahem…"
Nothing.
He sighed, amused, then started walking away just as Michael stepped in, gently shaking Tyra's arm.
The trance broke like glass.
Tyra blinked, startled. Then her eyes widened as the weight of what just happened hit her. She shoved Ryan's hand off and stormed toward the costume room.
Ryan just laughed behind her, watching her flee.
"Easy there!" he called after her, voice dripping in mockery.
Tyra stumbled slightly, nearly tripping over a set piece. Michael caught her just in time.
"Careful," he murmured.
She whipped around and glared at Ryan, her eyes spitting fire.
You will die by my hands, that glare screamed.
And then she was gone.
Ryan chuckled under his breath, licking his lips.
"Feisty," he said softly. "I like it."
Gary gave him the weirdest look imaginable.
Ryan just shrugged, still smiling.