Notes of Attraction - B.E.

Part 10 | NOISE

[EVELYNS POV]

The next few days are a blur of rehearsals, set meetings, and constant chatter. It's easy to keep myself buried in work. After all, I'm good at this. I've built this career from the ground up. I've been praised, criticized, and everything in between, and it never mattered because I always knew exactly where I stood.

But then there's Billie. And no matter how many rehearsals I sit through, no matter how much I bury myself in dialogue or blocking, her presence looms in the background. She's always there—in the music, in the way she's watching me when I least expect it, in the way she makes everything feel... less predictable.

And I hate that I'm letting it get to me.

"You've got an attitude problem today," the director comments during a break.

I glance at him, not bothering to hide the annoyance on my face.

"I'm fine," I say, my tone clipped. "Just... focused."

"Sure you are." He pauses. "But if you're going to work with Billie, you might want to start showing a little more appreciation."

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Don't take it the wrong way, but she's got a way of making people—" he waves his hand, searching for the words "—feel things, you know? I've seen the way she interacts with the cast. She's got a vibe."

I don't respond at first. My throat tightens slightly.

"I don't need her 'vibe,'" I say sharply. "I need her to write songs. That's the deal."

The director stares at me for a long moment, then sighs and turns back to the script.

I watch him go, but something about his words stings.

I don't need her vibe. I don't need anything from her except for her to do her damn job and leave me to mine. I don't have the time to be distracted by her, not when I've got a film to finish, not when every single part of this project is tied to my career.

But maybe that's exactly the problem. I don't know how to stop myself from feeling the tension between us every time she's in the room. How her casual tone makes me feel like I'm the one with something to prove.

The next day, I'm back on set for more rehearsals, and as usual, Billie's on the sidelines, scribbling away in her notebook. I don't even look at her. Not directly. I can feel her eyes on me, though—just like I can always feel her when she's around.

This time, though, I refuse to let her get to me. I walk past her without a second glance, ignoring the little ripple of heat that runs through me when she shifts, like she wants to say something but doesn't.

I can't afford to care.

I'm in control.

She's just... noise.

And I'm damn good at ignoring noise.

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