FIRST LOVE ♛ The Selection

1 ⭑ Fresh Off Set

AURORA

Take thirty-six had to be the killer.

My body fought against me, legs achy from standing all day. Still, I kept my eyes fixed on Pierce across from me. "I did everything for you," I said, forcing the words through my cracking throat. Steady, I remembered, keep it steady. "I don't care if you think it was stupid, or--or wrong. I'm not giving up on us."

Pierce laughed a broken little laugh, folding his arms over his chest. He was a tall man, broad and muscular and dark-haired, so you wouldn't think he could make himself look so small, all folded into himself like he was. "Well, I am," he replied.

"You're gonna ruin everything," I spat in return, my voice cracking still. The high point, and my turning point. His eyes met mine. I reached for his hand. "C'mon, Pierce--fuck."

I stopped in my tracks and groaned, covering my face in my hands, turning away from him. "Sorry, sorry!"

"Cut!" Deanna shouted.

The set bell rang, and I dropped my hands. "I'm sorry!" I called out again, to everybody. Nobody paid me much attention. A few exhausted PAs smiled in forgiveness, but everybody else did as they had the last thirty-five times Deanna called cut for reasons beyond a flubbed line: sighed shortly, then reset their camera or adjusted the lighting and got ready to go again.

I looked up at the high ceiling, blinking my tears away and wiping off the one that fell. Take thirty-six done, another tear shed. God, was I ready to leave.

I took my eyes off the ceiling to look at Pierce. He had shoved his hands in his pockets, turned half away from me, his lower lip slightly pouted. I rolled my eyes. I had broken up with Pierce a month ago, exactly three hours before the first table-read for season two of our show. There, we discovered at the same time that season two would end with his character breaking up with mine to move across the country, unable to deal with all of my character's emotional baggage. Almost our exact situation, if you flipped our characters around. Our writers had to be some kind of evil prophets.

"Pierce," I whispered, just loud enough to get his attention. He sighed dramatically and turned to me. I put on a smile. "Good take."

He raised his eyebrows and turned away again. Right. One thing about Pierce Mendez that all the magazines didn't know: he could be unbelievably dramatic. No, we didn't have an amicable breakup, but Jesus, we were still coworkers. Play It Sane had an ensemble cast, so most of our scenes went smoothly by grace of Kiara or Rowan's additional presence, but our solo scenes were awkward and needed a few extra takes. Between Deanna yelling action and cut, we did our jobs. Before and after, Pierce treated me like he hadn't been begging me to love him in his apartment's kitchen a month ago.

"Hopefully we'll go home soon," I muttered to him.

Pierce did the same eyebrow raise, and before I could open my mouth to ask if he lost his voice crying last night, Deanna called for our attention. "From the top, everyone, one more time!"

To Deanna Fisher, one more time meant three, and the third ended with Pierce and I both in genuine tears. Mine, at least, were pure exhaustion, but I managed to force a crack in my voice for a few different lines. Award-worthy sort of stuff.

A few moments after the set bell, Deanna raised her hand, and the immediate noise that had rose on set lowered to a buzz. Deanna flipped a page and adjusted her glasses. "Alright, everyone," she began. The hairs on my neck stood. She read her notes for another second, let out a satisfied exhale, and brought her head up, surveying the lot of us with a rare smile. "That's a wrap for season two!"