Butter's heart hammered against his ribs as he stared at the blurry image on his phone. The set lights seemed to dim around him, the usual on-set bustle fading into a dull hum. That back… the slight slump of the shoulders, the way the hair fell… it was infuriatingly familiar. A newbie actor, they said. But which one? There were so many fresh faces milling around, eager to make their mark.

He shoved the phone into his pocket just as the director called for him and Ohmakin. The kitchen set looked deceptively cozy, sunlight streaming through the fake window. Today was the day. The intimate scene. His stomach twisted into knots, a cold dread settling in his chest. He glanced at Phii Ohm, who stood awkwardly by the counter, fiddling with his fingers. Butter could practically feel his man's anxiety radiating off him in waves.

"Alright, you two,"

 the director's voice boomed, breaking the tension. "Let's run through this. Remember the emotional arc. The initial playful banter, the building tension, the vulnerability… and then…" He trailed off with a knowing smile.

The first take was a disaster. Ohmakin the profound actor full of charisma and sexiness was stiff and self-conscious, his eyes darting everywhere but butter's. The playful banter felt forced, the touch of hands awkward. 

"Cut!" 

The director called, his brow furrowed. "Ohmmmmm  relax! You need to connect with Butter. Look at him."

Take two wasn't much better. Ohmakin seemed to have retreated further into himself, his movements jerky and unnatural. Butter tried his best to draw him out, to create a sense of intimacy, but it felt like trying to pull a stubborn mule.

The third take started with a flicker of hope. Ohm managed a genuine smile during the initial dialogue, and for a fleeting moment, butter felt a connection. But as the scene progressed, the tension seemed to overwhelm him again. When butter was supposed to gently pull him closer, Phii Ohm flinched, breaking the moment.

Frustration simmered beneath Butterjin's professional facade. He knew Phii Ohm was struggling, but he couldn't voice his suspicions, couldn't risk exposing whatever was going on. He just had to get through this.

Oouuii Ohmmm what's going on with you today. You're never like this. 

The director was beginning to believe something was up with him. 

"One more time," the director sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"Let's focus on the intention.

 What do these characters want from each other in this moment?" Okay? 

And.... Action 

For the fourth take, Butterjin decided to try a different approach. He met Ohmakin's gaze with a soft intensity, his own anxiety momentarily forgotten. He focused solely on the character, on the yearning and vulnerability the scene demanded. He spoke his lines with a quiet sincerity, his touch gentle but firm.

This time, something shifted in Phii Ohm. His eyes met butter's, a flicker of emotion finally breaking through his guarded exterior. He responded to butter's touch, his initial stiffness melting away. The playful banter flowed naturally, the tension building organically. When butter pulled him closer against the kitchen counter, Ohm leaned in, his breath catching slightly.

The scene unfolded, a delicate dance of longing and desire. Butterjin guided Ohmakin through the movements, his own performance fueled by a mixture of relief and a strange, unsettling feeling. As they moved towards the imaginary bedroom, a sense of fragile connection hung in the air.

"Cut!" 

the director exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across his face. "That's it! Beautiful! You two nailed it."

A wave of exhaustion washed over Butterjin. They had done it. The scene was finally in the can. But the relief was overshadowed by the nagging feeling in the back of his mind, the blurry image of that familiar back still haunting him. He glanced at Phii Ohm, who was now being congratulated by the crew, a small, hesitant smile on his face. Butter couldn't shake the feeling that this was far from over.