Chapter 6 — Cracks Begin to Show
1311 Words
🌹 Chapter 6 — Cracks Begin to Show
The sun was still low when Natasha arrived at the office, her arms full of revised scripts, coffee steaming in her hand. Today was a big day — the production was moving out of the studio and onto location, deep in the woods outside the city.
The building was unusually quiet at this hour. She liked it this way — the air crisp, her mind clear before the chaos of the day.
She set her bag down and sank into her chair, flipping through the pages one last time, making sure everything was in order.
But from across the room, she heard it — soft laughter, hushed voices that cut through the silence.
“She probably volunteered to carry his bag too,” Mika whispered.
Anna snickered. “Or maybe she’s the bag.”
Sophia let out a dry laugh. “Desperate little thing, thinking James is going to actually notice her. He’s a grown man. She’s a kid.”
Natasha’s fingers stilled over the page, her ears burning.
Before she could move, the office door opened and all three women straightened.
James walked in, his expression dark and unreadable as his eyes swept the room.
“What’s funny?” he asked, voice sharp.
The three women froze.
“Nothing, sir,” Mika mumbled.
James’s gaze lingered on them, unimpressed. “If you have time to gossip, you have time to rewrite those blocking notes I gave you. Now.”
They scurried away, leaving Natasha at her desk, feeling both embarrassed and oddly… protected.
When James finally looked at her, his expression softened ever so slightly.
He walked over, crouching at her level, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
“Don’t mind them,” he murmured. “You’re here because you’re good at what you do, Natasha. Don’t let them take that from you.”
She looked at him, startled by the kindness in his tone.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He stood, lips tugging into the faintest smile. “Be ready. We leave in twenty.”
By the time they reached the forest set, the sun was high and golden. Warm light streamed through the trees, dappling the earth with soft patterns. The air smelled of pine and something faintly sweet.
Natasha stood at the edge of the clearing, watching as crew members lugged cameras, tripods, and lights into position.
James appeared beside her, his presence quiet but commanding.
“Stay close,” he instructed, his hand brushing hers as he led her toward the director’s tent.
She nodded shyly, murmuring, “It’s beautiful here.”
For a moment, James glanced around and actually smiled.
“You like it?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Good.”
He reached out, almost absentmindedly, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“You worry too much,” he said. “You make my job easier just by being here.”
Her cheeks flushed at his words. “I… thank you,” she murmured.
A low chuckle escaped him — rare, warm — before he turned back to the set.
Hours passed in a blur of shouted instructions and running cables. James was in his element, directing actors with precision and intensity. Natasha stood at his side, scribbling notes, adjusting lines when needed.
At one point, he grew frustrated with a scene and walked off toward the equipment trucks.
Natasha hesitated, then quietly followed.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
He glanced at her, surprised.
A sigh escaped him. “I just hate when things don’t go right.”
“You’re doing fine,” she assured him. “Everyone listens to you.”
His lips curved slightly. “Maybe. But you… you’re the only one who makes me feel like it’s going to be fine.”
He reached out and lightly squeezed her hand, and Natasha felt her heart stutter.
When lunch was finally called, everyone gathered in the tent where boxed meals were stacked high.
Natasha opened hers, then froze.
Inside, a cold noodle salad sprinkled generously with crushed peanuts stared back at her.
Her stomach dropped.
“I… I can’t eat this,” she said under her breath.
Sophia, sitting nearby, glanced over and smirked.
“Oh, what now? Too good for packed lunch?” she muttered just loud enough to be heard.
Natasha’s cheeks burned. She set the box aside, trying to hide her discomfort.
Before she could say anything, James’s voice cut through the tent.
“Is there a problem?”
The entire crew went quiet.
James’s eyes found Natasha’s almost instantly.
“She’s allergic,” someone volunteered hesitantly.
James’s brow furrowed. Without missing a beat, he pulled out his phone.
“Don’t eat that,” he ordered Natasha.
Fifteen minutes later, a delivery boy arrived at the edge of the set with a steaming bag of food. James took it, carried it over, and set it down in front of her.
“Eat,” he said simply.
Natasha blinked at him. “You… ordered this?”
“Of course,” James said matter-of-factly. “You’re no good to me passed out from an allergy attack.”
He crouched slightly, his voice dropping just enough for her alone.
“And… I don’t like seeing you go without. Not on my watch.”
Her heart swelled in her chest, and she barely managed a whispered: “Thank you.”
From across the tent, Mika and Anna and Sophia glared at her, their whispered venom already starting again.
“Pathetic,” Mika hissed.
“Can’t even eat like a normal person,” Anna sneered.
“Has to have him spoon-feed her,” Sophia added bitterly.
Natasha tried not to hear them — but it was impossible to ignore the way James sat down beside her as she ate, calmly brushing off everyone else in the room as though they didn’t matter.
Later that afternoon, shooting resumed in a more remote part of the forest.
The golden light faded into cool shadows as the crew worked under the trees.
Warren passed her at one point, offering her a quiet, kind smile as he handed her a bottle of water.
“You holding up okay?” he asked softly.
She nodded, smiling faintly. “Thanks. I’m fine.”
Warren studied her for a beat, his smile fading just a little.
“You don’t always have to be fine, you know,” he murmured.
Before she could answer, James appeared behind her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Natasha. I need you at the monitor.”
Warren stepped back silently, watching her go.
By evening, the crew began setting up cots and tents to sleep in overnight. Lanterns glowed softly between the trees as people settled in for the night.
Natasha stood by the edge of the clearing, hugging her script to her chest, staring up at the stars peeking through the canopy.
Somewhere behind her, the faint sound of laughter — Mika and Sophia and Anna whispering, no doubt about her again.
But she couldn’t focus on that anymore.
James’s voice still echoed in her mind — “You make my job easier just by being here.” She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand brushing her cheek, his quiet words meant just for her.
And she realized then — despite everything, despite the gossip, despite the way his protectiveness sometimes scared her — she was falling.
Falling for the way he looked at her like she was the only one in the room.
Falling for the way he seemed to know when she needed saving before she even spoke.
Falling for the way his rare smile was worth every second of tension.
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she whispered to herself:
“…I’m falling.”
- Writer
