Avery was halfway through reviewing the blocking notes for the afternoon scene when her walkie crackled.

“Stage Four, heads up. Network visitor arriving. Repeat: network visitor arriving.”

Avery froze.

Jonah, who was leaning against a stack of gels, groaned. “Tell me they mean some random intern.”

“They never mean an intern,” Avery said. “Who is it?”

A different voice on the walkie answered, “Name says Carter Hale.”

Avery felt her stomach drop. “Great. Perfect. Fantastic.”

Jonah’s eyes widened. “Wait—Carter Hale? That guy who writes those brutal think pieces about shows that aren’t even out yet?”

“The same one,” Avery muttered.

“Haven’t heard his name in a while. Didn’t he get banned from a set once?”

“He got banned from three sets,” Avery corrected.

“Awesome,” Jonah said. “We’re doomed.”

Avery shot him a look. “We’re not doomed. We’re just… not having a good day.”

Jonah snorted. “Understatement of the year.”

Before Avery could decide how to handle this, Kayla fast-walked across the set with a face that said she’d been preparing speeches in her head for the past five minutes.

“Okay,” Kayla said. “He’s not here for a hit piece. He’s doing a ‘behind-the-scenes industry series.’ The network wants him to write something nice. Or… at least not murderous.”

“That’s reassuring,” Jonah said.

“It’s not supposed to reassure you,” Kayla told him. “It’s supposed to reassure Avery.”

“It didn’t,” Avery said.

Kayla took a breath. “Look, I’ll handle him. You just direct like a normal human being.”

“That’s comforting,” Avery said. “Because normal is definitely how I feel.”

Before Kayla could respond, someone called out, “He’s here!”

Avery turned—and saw Carter Hale walking into the set like he owned the place. He wore a blazer like it was armor and carried a notebook filled with judgment.

He scanned the room, taking in every light, cable, and person like he was measuring them against impossible standards.

Then his eyes landed on Avery.

She straightened her shoulders. “Hi. I’m Avery Lane.”

“Director,” Carter said, shaking her hand. “Pleasure. Heard interesting things.”

“Only half of them are true,” Avery said.

“Which half?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

He smirked. “Fair enough.”

Kayla launched herself between them. “Carter, I’ll give you the tour and answer questions. Avery’s in the middle of prepping a complicated sequence.”

Carter ignored that. “I’d like to watch her work. If she doesn’t mind.”

Avery minded a lot.

But saying no would start a rumor way bigger than the one she’d already dealt with this week.

“Fine,” Avery said. “Stay out of the actors’ eyeline and don’t move any equipment.”

“No promises,” Carter said.

Avery stared. “Promise.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, hands up.

Avery turned to the crew. “Thirty seconds! Back to one!”

As they reset, Evan approached her from the side. “Need backup?”

“No,” Avery said. “But also yes. But mostly no.”

“That sounds stable,” he said.

“Shut up,” she replied.

Evan stepped a little closer. “What’s the plan?”

“Act like nothing is wrong,” Avery said. “And pray he gets bored fast.”

“Not sure boredom is in his personality,” Evan said. “But I’m here.”

Avery didn’t have time to acknowledge how much that sentence hit her. She clapped her hands once.

“Okay! Let’s run the kitchen confrontation!”

The scene started.

Mia delivered her first lines clean and sharp. Liam matched her tone. The camera operator glided smoothly across the track.

But Avery didn’t miss it—Carter taking furious notes every time someone blinked.

Halfway through the scene, Carter stepped forward like he wanted a better view.

Straight toward a C-stand.

A loaded C-stand.

Avery reacted too late. “Stop—!”

Evan moved first.

He grabbed Carter’s jacket and pulled him back just before the stand toppled.

Carter stumbled. “Hey!”

“You were about to knock over a two-thousand-dollar light,” Evan said. “Don’t step past the tape. It’s there for a reason.”

Carter straightened his blazer, offended. “I’m observing. That’s all.”

“Then observe safely,” Evan said.

Avery blinked. Evan’s tone wasn’t angry—just firm. Calm. Clear. The exact tone that got actors to fix things without feeling attacked.

Carter adjusted his glasses. “I see. Boundaries.”

“Exactly,” Evan said. “Don’t cross them.”

Avery exhaled, trying to pretend her pulse hadn’t just spiked.

Kayla rushed over. “Carter! Come with me. You can watch from monitor village, where nothing falls on your head.”

Carter gave Evan a long look. “Noted.”

Kayla dragged him away before anything else could happen.

Avery turned to Evan. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” Evan said.

“He’s a critic.”

“He’s a guy who almost ruined your setup,” Evan corrected. “Actor or critic, he plays by the same rules as everyone else.”

Avery didn’t know what to do with how steady he sounded.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“Anytime.”

She didn’t look at him, but she felt him stay near her as she reset the scene.

The next run was better. Avery’s notes landed. The tension felt right. And Carter—fortunately—stayed glued to Kayla.

After an hour, Kayla returned. “He’s done. He’ll write a piece. It won’t be glowing, but it won’t be a disaster.”

Avery rubbed her temples. “I’ll take ‘not a disaster.’ That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me this week.”

“You did good,” Kayla said. “Really.”

Avery opened her mouth to brush that off, but Kayla held up a finger.

“Don’t argue. Just take the win.”

Avery shut her mouth.

The scene wrapped. Crew dispersed. Mia and Liam headed to wardrobe. Jonah ran off to deal with paperwork.

Avery stayed behind, leaning on the counter in the fake kitchen.

Evan approached again, hands in his pockets. “You breathing yet?”

“Barely.”

“You handled him better than most directors,” Evan said.

“You didn’t see me ten seconds away from strangling him.”

“I saw you control a messy situation,” Evan said. “That’s more than most people can do.”

Avery stared at the fake tiles under her hand.

She didn’t usually say personal things out loud.  

Not on set.  

Not to actors.  

Not ever.

But the words pressed at her anyway.

“Evan,” she said quietly.

He stepped closer. “Yeah?”

She didn’t look up.

“I’m… glad you were here today.”

Evan didn’t respond right away.

When he did, his voice was low. “Me too.”

Avery finally lifted her head.

For the first time, she didn’t look away.