Between Scripts and Heartbeats

Chapter 119 - On-Set Sparks

The next day, the set felt electric. Every corner seemed to hum with anticipation, not just because of the scene we were about to shoot, but because I knew Henry would be watching. He had insisted on checking in “for the sake of the boys,” which everyone knew was a half-truth—he wanted to see me, see how I acted around Jake, and probably feel that sting of jealousy all over again.

Jake leaned against the props, whispering, “Ready for this, Eleni?” His smirk was half mischief, half reassurance.

I rolled my eyes, pulling my hoodie tighter around me despite the warmth of the lights. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Just… try not to make Henry combust in the corner.”

He laughed, squeezing my hand briefly. “No promises.”

The director called us over. “Okay, this scene—romantic, tender, but keep it believable. Eleni, you’re hesitant at first. Jake, you need to break through that wall slowly.”

I took my mark, heart hammering, because even though I knew this was acting, the air between Jake and me carried real sparks now, and I could feel Henry’s presence like a shadow over my shoulder.

“Action.”

Jake’s character stepped closer, hand brushing mine in the scripted way, and I felt that familiar warmth flare up in my chest. We went through the motions—soft touches, lingering glances, hesitant smiles—but somewhere in the corner, I caught Henry’s eyes locked on us.

His jaw was tight, shoulders stiff. He didn’t say a word, but the tension radiating off him was impossible to ignore. Every time Jake leaned in closer or pressed a cheek to mine, I could see Henry flinch.

During one take, Jake whispered something completely unscripted—just low enough for me to hear—“You’re breathtaking, you know that?”

I froze for a heartbeat, cheeks flushing, heart hammering. “Jake…” I whispered back, trying to focus, but the heat between us was real, undeniable.

The director clapped, oblivious to the silent storm Henry was brewing. “Cut! Perfect, perfect!”

Henry’s hand tightened around the clipboard he was holding. He opened his mouth, maybe to speak, but then he exhaled sharply and turned away, unable to hide the jealousy simmering just beneath his controlled exterior.

Jake leaned close to me again, his lips brushing my temple this time—not part of the scene—and whispered with a grin, “He’s not gonna handle this, is he?”

I bit my lip, trying not to smile too widely. “He’s a volcano waiting to erupt.”

Jake chuckled softly. “Good. Let him simmer. You and me—we’ve got our own fire.”

As the cameras rolled for the next take, I realized something. Acting in front of Henry’s eyes had turned from stressful to exhilarating. The tension, the jealousy, the sparks between Jake and me—it was all real, and it was all ours.

And maybe, just maybe, Henry wasn’t the only one learning how dangerous this fire could be.