Avery barely slept. She managed a few hours, but most of the night she just stared at the ceiling of her small apartment, replaying the moment she saw Evan again. The way he looked at her. The way she pretended it didn’t matter. None of it made shutting her mind off any easier.

By morning, she gave up on sleep completely and ordered a rideshare before the sun was fully up. She didn’t want to be early, but she also didn’t want to walk into a crowded studio with her head still buzzing from yesterday.

When she reached Evermere Film House, the crew lot was already waking up. People unloaded gear from trucks, someone pushed a rolling rack of wardrobe pieces, and a PA jogged across the pavement carrying three coffees like her life depended on it. Avery kept her pace steady and walked straight toward Stage Six.

Inside, the prep work had started. Some crew checked props, others went through shot lists on tablets, and a few people tested monitors even though nothing would be filmed today. Everything felt normal. Predictable. Exactly what she needed.

She let out a slow breath and walked around the stage. The layout for their first scene was taped on the floor, with marks for actors and camera paths. She crouched down to double-check one of the marks.

“Morning,” a voice said behind her.

She turned. Jonah stood there with a clipboard tucked under his arm.

“You’re here early,” she said.

“You’re earlier,” he replied. “That usually means you didn’t sleep.”

Avery gave him a flat look. “Please don’t start analyzing me before eight a.m.”

Jonah smiled the way he always did—calm, steady, not pushing too hard. “Fair enough. Yesterday was a lot.”

“I handled it,” she said.

“I didn’t say you didn’t.”

She took the clipboard from him. “Camera positions changed again?”

“Yeah. Evan asked for a new angle. Something about giving the actors more space.”

Avery looked at the updated notes but kept her face neutral. “Fine. We can adjust.”

Jonah watched her for a second. “You sure you’re fine working with him?”

Avery kept her tone dry. “We’re adults. This is a job.”

He didn’t argue. “Alright. Just checking.”

They reviewed the blocking plan together. Avery walked through the actor paths, checked the distances between marks, corrected a prop placement, and made a few adjustments to timing. Work helped. Work always helped.

But then she heard his voice.

“Avery.”

Her shoulders tightened before she could stop it.

She turned. Evan walked toward them from the far end of the stage. He held a binder under one arm and looked as tired as she felt. She didn’t want to notice that either, but her brain didn’t cooperate.

“We need to go over the opening shot,” he said.

“I already saw the changes,” she replied.

“I want to make sure we’re aligned.”

Her tone stayed even. “Okay. Go ahead.”

Evan explained the angle, the movement, and the new plan for the first sequence. She listened. She didn’t interrupt. She didn’t look him in the eyes unless necessary.

When he stepped closer to adjust a small prop on the table, she moved the same direction at the same time. Their hands brushed.

Both of them paused.

Avery pulled her hand back immediately. “Let’s just walk through it.”

“Right,” Evan said, clearing his throat.

They walked the scene slowly. Every instruction was simple. Every exchange was short. Professional. Controlled. It was the closest thing they had to neutral ground.

When they finished, Avery turned away.

“Avery,” he said again.

She didn’t look at him. “What?”

“You’re doing good work.”

She swallowed once. “Thanks.”

She walked before he could add anything.

She headed toward the wardrobe racks where Kayla was re-tagging outfits.

Kayla looked up instantly. “Wow. Your face is screaming.”

Avery sighed. “Please don’t.”

“That bad?”

“It was work. Nothing else.”

“Sure,” Kayla said. “And I’m a billionaire.”

Avery picked up a tag to avoid the conversation. “Did wardrobe get the updated list?”

“Yeah. But don’t change the subject. If you two don’t sort out whatever’s going on, the entire set’s going to pick up on it.”

“There’s nothing to sort out.”

“You keep saying that. You’re lying every time.”

Avery shot her a look. “Can we do actual work now?”

Kayla rolled her eyes and handed her a paper. “Fine. Continuity check. These need clearance before noon.”

Avery focused on the list. Work. Something she could control.

But her moment of calm didn’t last.

A production assistant hurried across the stage. “Avery? They need you and Evan at Stage Nine. Something’s wrong with the set wall.”

Avery closed her eyes briefly. “Of course they do.”

Kayla smirked. “Have fun.”

Avery ignored the comment and followed the assistant out of Stage Six. The walk to Stage Nine was short, but her pulse picked up anyway. She hated that her body responded before her brain did. Hated that Evan still had this kind of effect.

Inside Stage Nine, a group of crew members stood around a half-finished doorway frame. Evan was already there talking to the construction lead.

He turned when Avery walked in. “The frame can’t hold the track weight.”

Avery stepped closer and examined it. “He’s right. If we try to shoot with this, the rig will shift.”

Construction lead groaned. “We’ll need a rebuild.”

“How long?” Avery asked.

“Six hours at least.”

Avery exhaled. “Then we shift the schedule. Move rehearsal, cancel lighting prep on Six, push design review to later.”

Evan looked at her with a small nod. “Works for me.”

Avery turned to the crew. “Rebuild it. I’ll send the updated schedule.”

People scattered to start the fix. Evan stayed where he was.

“You handled that fast,” he said.

“It’s my job.”

“I know. I wasn’t saying you can’t.”

She didn’t respond.

He hesitated. “About yesterday—”

“No,” she said quickly. “We’re not talking about it.”

He let out a slow breath. “Okay.”

Avery walked out of Stage Nine before he could try again.

Outside, she stopped for a few seconds and looked down at the ground, hands on her hips. She wasn’t angry. She was tired—tired of her body reacting faster than her logic.

Her phone buzzed. Jonah.

“Need you back on Six. Ready to run the sequence.”

She typed back: “On my way.”

Avery straightened, pushed the hair off her face, and headed back toward Stage Six without looking back.

It was only the second day, and her chest already felt tight.