Avery arrived at the studio with a knot already forming in her stomach. She hadn’t slept more than five hours combined over the past two nights, and her body was starting to feel like it operated on delay. Every movement felt a half-second slower than her intentions.

When she reached the hallway outside Stage Six, Jonah met her with a tablet in hand and worry on his face.

“Don’t be mad,” he said, which was never a good start.

Avery closed her eyes for a moment. “Jonah. What now.”

“The network scheduled a check-in meeting for today. Upper execs. They want to review progress and watch rehearsal.”

Avery stared at him. “Today?”

“Yeah. Like… soon.”

Avery rubbed her forehead. “Of course. Why not. Perfect timing.”

Jonah lowered his voice. “If you want, I can tell them you’re—”

“No.” Avery cut him off. “We’re already behind. I’m not giving them ammunition.”

Jonah didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue.

They entered the stage. Crew was prepping the kitchen set again, adjusting lights and repositioning props. Mia and Liam were at the dining table running lines, but they kept glancing toward Avery.

Avery forced a steady voice. “We’re starting with scene twelve. Let’s reset the table positions.”

She walked over to the monitors and found Evan already there, looking at the shot list. When he noticed her, he straightened slightly.

“You heard about the execs,” he said.

“Yes.”

“They’re expecting clean takes.”

“I know.”

“They’re probably hoping for a reason to blame someone.”

“I know,” Avery repeated.

He looked at her, studying the tension in her jaw. “You don’t have to handle them alone.”

Avery shook her head. “Please don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything. I’m telling you I’ll be there.”

“I didn’t ask you to be.”

Evan exhaled slowly. “Avery—”

But she had already stepped away.

She walked to the dining set and leaned over the prop layout, checking the marks. Her stomach twisted again, and she had to steady herself with a hand on the chair. She swallowed the unease and kept moving.

“Let’s go from the top,” Avery said. “Mia, start with the apology line.”

Mia nodded, but before they began, she hesitated. “Avery… are you sure you’re okay for today? The execs are intense.”

Avery stiffened. “I’m fine. Focus.”

Mia nodded but didn’t look convinced.

They rehearsed once. Then a second time. Things were workable, but the pacing was off. Liam overplayed a line, and Mia missed an emotional beat.

Avery stepped forward. “Stop. Reset. That’s not the tone.”

Liam looked frustrated. “What tone are we going for? Because you’ve changed it twice already today.”

Avery narrowed her eyes. “I changed it because it wasn’t working.”

“Well, I need clarity,” Liam shot back.

Before Avery answered, Mia jumped in. “Liam, she’s trying—”

“I know she’s trying,” Liam said. “I’m asking for direction, not guesswork.”

Avery felt the ground shift under her feet again—not physically this time, but emotionally. Liam wasn’t wrong to ask, but the way he said it pierced through her thin patience.

She took a slow breath. “Liam, the tone is controlled. Not angry. Not explosive. Controlled. You push too much, the scene loses the weight.”

Liam rubbed his forehead. “Okay. Fine. I’ll adjust.”

But his voice carried irritation.

Mia faced him. “Don’t talk to her like she’s—”

“Mia,” Avery cut in sharply. “Drop it.”

Mia froze. Liam sighed loudly. Jonah hovered nearby, ready to intervene.

The tension was already thick when the doors opened and the network execs walked in—three of them, plus Dale, the representative from the other day.

Avery’s stomach tightened.

Dale scanned the room. “We’re here to observe rehearsal. Let’s see where we are.”

Avery forced herself upright. “Of course.”

She stepped behind the monitors. Evan stood beside her without asking. She didn’t look at him.

“Rolling rehearsal,” Jonah called.

The actors began. And it went badly almost immediately. Liam stumbled again. Mia overcorrected her tone and came off too soft. A prop shifted on the table, making a loud scrape.

Avery’s jaw clenched.

Jonah called, “Cut—”

But Dale spoke over him. “This is sloppy.”

Avery turned toward him slowly. “It’s rehearsal. We haven’t run the full pacing yet.”

Dale crossed his arms. “It doesn’t look like you know what pacing you want.”

Evan tensed beside her. Avery felt it.

She kept her voice even. “We’ll run it again.”

Dale smirked slightly. “Please do.”

The crew reset. Avery walked toward the actors, but halfway across the set, a sudden spike of vertigo hit her. She paused, gripping a chair to steady herself.

Mia noticed immediately. “Avery?”

Avery forced a breath. “I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t.

Evan approached from behind. “Avery. Stop.”

She didn’t listen.

“From the apology line,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Mia and Liam started again. Avery tried to follow every beat, but her vision blurred at the edges. Her chest tightened with a slow, creeping pressure.

Liam delivered a line too aggressively again.

Avery stepped forward to adjust him—and her knees buckled.

She caught herself against the table, but the noise echoed across the set. Everyone froze.

Dale raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to replace someone today? Because this isn’t—“

Evan turned, sharp. “Don’t.”

Avery tried to straighten, but her body refused.

Jonah rushed over. “Avery. Sit down. Now.”

“No,” she whispered.

Mia’s voice cracked. “Avery, please.”

Avery shook her head, trying to breathe through the pressure squeezing her ribs.

Dale sighed loudly. “This production is falling apart.”

Something inside her snapped.

Avery looked up at him, eyes sharp. “We are dealing with equipment failures, rewrites, and impossible deadlines. And we are still delivering scenes. You standing here making comments does not make any of this easier.”

The room fell silent.

Dale looked stunned—but only for a moment. Then his expression hardened. “Is this how you speak to a network executive?”

Avery opened her mouth, but the room swayed violently.

Evan grabbed her arm before she fell again. “Enough. She needs a break.”

Dale scoffed. “She needs discipline.”

Evan stepped in front of Avery. “She needs oxygen and water. Back off.”

Avery tried to push him away. “I’m fine—I can keep going—we don’t have time—”

Her voice cracked. Her vision blurred again.

Jonah nodded at Mia. “Get water.”

Mia sprinted off.

Evan’s voice softened. “Avery. Look at me.”

She tried.  

She really tried.  

But the more she fought it, the more her body shut down.

Her breath stuttered.

Her chest tightened.

Her hands shook.

Then it happened—

Her composure broke.

Tears hit her eyes before she could hide them. She pressed her hands against her forehead, trying to hold herself together.

She whispered, barely audible, “Not now… please… not now…”

The entire set froze.

No one had ever seen Avery cry.  

Not once.  

Not even close.

Evan moved closer. “Avery, sit.”

She didn’t resist this time. Her legs gave out, and Evan guided her into the nearest chair. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, trying to breathe.

Mia returned with water, eyes wide with worry. “Here—Avery—please drink—”

Avery took it with shaky fingers.

Dale muttered, “This is unacceptable.”

Evan turned toward him like he was ready to snap something in half. Jonah stepped between them.

“Dale. Leave. Now.”

Dale blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Jonah said. “Get out.”

Dale looked around for backup. No one offered it. Even the other execs looked uncomfortable.

One of them cleared her throat. “We’ll… come back another day.”

They left.

Evan crouched beside Avery. “Slow breaths. Stay with me.”

Avery wiped at her face. “I can’t fall apart in front of them—”

“It already happened,” Evan said gently. “And you’re still here.”

Her breathing shook. “I can’t lose this job.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you,” Evan said.

Avery stared at the floor, tears still falling even though she tried to stop them.

Mia placed a hand on her shoulder. “Avery, we’re not going anywhere. We’re with you.”

Jonah added, “You’re allowed to break for five minutes.”

Avery laughed weakly—a broken, exhausted sound. “This is more than five minutes.”

“Then take ten,” Jonah said. “Take twenty. We’ll wait.”

Evan didn’t move from her side.

Avery finally leaned back, covering her eyes with one hand. She breathed slowly until the worst of the shaking stopped.

When she finally lifted her head, her voice was barely above a whisper. “We keep going. After this break… we keep going.”

Jonah nodded. “Yeah. After you stand without wobbling.”

Mia handed her tissues. Liam stood nearby, looking like he wanted to apologize but didn’t know how.

Avery sat there, exhausted, drained, exposed in a way she never wanted to be.

Evan spoke quietly. “You don’t have to be invincible.”

Avery swallowed hard. “I do in this job.”

“No,” Evan said. “You really don’t.”

She didn’t answer.  

She didn’t know how.

She just closed her eyes again, fighting the last of the tears, trying to pull herself back together for the thousandth time.

Today, she had broken.

Tomorrow, she would have to find a way to stand again.