∙ 𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁 ∙

Ep 21 - Off-Script and On-Site (Pt 1)

The words aren't gentle. They're a reminder — that everything she says, every sigh that escapes, belongs to his version of her.

Addison's voice trembles — caught between surrender and self-convincing. Her lips move, forming his name again and again — "Brian." "I love you." Each one sounds more like a plea than a declaration.

He smirks faintly, pride blooming. He doesn't say it back — he never does — but his hand slides behind her neck, guiding her closer until their foreheads touch. It's his way of saying good girl without words.

Her eyes flutter. For a fleeting second, she imagines herself shining — stage lights, camera flashes, applause — before the image melts back into this room, this man, this bargain disguised as affection.

The music pulses in rhythm with the city heartbeat. The lyrics blur into one long hum — "Baby, you could have it all..." and the shot fades to the reflection in the window — two outlines merging, then dissolving into shimmering light.

[EXT. STREET / INT. SEAN'S SUV — NIGHT]

The car idles under a flickering streetlamp, the city pulsing around them. Raindrops begin to collect on the windshield, scattering light like tiny camera flashes. The low hum of "Lonely Star" seeps from the stereo — soft, hypnotic.

Lisa leans closer, heartbeat trembling in her throat.

LISA
(quietly):
"I've never... done any this before."

Sean stills — charm fading into surprise. His hand, halfway toward her face, drops to his lap.

SEAN:
"You mean—"

LISA:
"Yeah."

(beat)

LISA:
"But I need to forget. Just for tonight."

She holds his gaze — something raw, unguarded, almost defiant.

Sean studies her a long moment, searching for hesitation. There's none. Only ache.

He exhales, voice low.

SEAN:
"Are you sure?"

LISA:
"I want to..."

A quiet beat — then he reaches forward, thumb tracing the edge of her jaw.

The moment stretches, fragile and electric.

Their lips meet — slow at first, testing the air.
Then urgency blooms. The kiss deepens.

Lisa moves — sliding onto his lap, her knees brushing his sides. The rhythm of the music merges with the sound of their breathing.

Sean's hands trace the line of her waist, cautious but drawn. Her fingers knot in his shirt; the tension breaks open.

Outside, the city blurs — neon reflected in the glass, a collage of light and movement. Inside, the car rocks gently, the world narrowing to skin, sound, and heartbeat.

Lisa gasps — quiet, startled — then exhales, surrendering to the warmth that overtakes fear. Sean leans in, his voice caught between restraint and wanting:

SEAN
(whisper, rough):
"You're so tight..."

The camera lingers on their silhouettes — two shadows fused by motion and melody.
As the song's refrain fades — "Baby, you could have it all..." — Lisa's head tips back against the seat, eyes fluttering shut.

KALEENA (V.O.):
"Two lonely stars — each promised the world,
each believing someone finally heard them.
But every promise here comes at a cost —
the kind that doesn't show up on paper,
only in the mirror when the lights go out."