Chapter 4 — Belonging
1139 Words
Chapter 4 — Belonging
The next morning, Natasha arrived on set to find the usual organized chaos of crew members, assistants, and actors bustling around Stage 3. She clutched her tote bag a little tighter, still thinking about the look on James’s face last night as he watched her climb into the cab… and the way his dark eyes seemed to follow her even now, though he wasn’t in sight yet.
“Good morning,” she murmured to Mia as she passed her desk.
Mia smirked knowingly, rising to her feet to follow Natasha toward the stage. “Morning? Or should I say… glowing morning?”
Natasha blinked at her, confused. “What does that even mean?”
“Oh, you know.” Mia leaned in, lowering her voice. “That whole thing with James last night. You should’ve seen his face after you left. If looks could kill, poor Warren wouldn’t have made it home alive.”
Natasha’s cheeks burned. “That’s ridiculous,” she muttered. “Warren was just being nice. That’s all.”
Mia only grinned wider. “Nice… or interested?”
Natasha didn’t answer, but her lips betrayed her with the faintest hint of a smile.
---
On set, the actors were gathered around a mock living room scene. Samantha and Kevin were running lines on the couch while Warren leaned casually against the wall, flipping through his script.
James entered a moment later, his presence shifting the energy in the room. The chatter quieted instantly. His eyes swept the set and landed on Natasha almost immediately.
He strode over, clipboard in hand.
“Good morning,” he said in his usual low, even tone.
“Good morning,” she replied softly.
He studied her for a beat, then added, almost casually, “Saw you left with Rivera last night.”
Natasha blinked, surprised. “Oh. He just walked me to the corner so I could get a cab. That’s all.”
James’s jaw tightened slightly. “You don’t need anyone walking you. You should’ve waited. I would’ve taken you.”
Natasha hesitated, unsure how to respond. His words were calm, but the undertone was sharp — almost… possessive.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” she said quietly.
James’s dark eyes held hers for a long moment. “You’re not a bother,” he said finally, before turning back to the set.
Natasha watched him walk away, her heart hammering.
---
As rehearsal began, Natasha stood near the script table, jotting down notes and occasionally glancing at James. He gave her quiet instructions here and there, asking for her thoughts on blocking and tone — small gestures that made her chest swell with pride despite herself.
But she could still feel the weight of eyes on her.
On the far side of the room, Mika, Anna, and Sophia whispered among themselves, shooting her sharp looks.
Mika’s voice carried just far enough for Natasha to catch: “Look at her. Acting like she already owns the place. No wonder James is letting her make decisions now.”
Anna snickered. “She’s probably sitting on his lap during lunch breaks.”
Sophia added, “And she’s what? Barely out of college? Pathetic.”
Natasha gripped her pen tighter, refusing to look their way.
But her stomach twisted uncomfortably.
---
During the lunch break, Natasha found herself slumped on a bench in the corner of the studio lot, poking at a sandwich she no longer felt hungry for.
Mia plopped down beside her, holding a takeout box.
“Hey,” Mia said gently. “What’s with the storm cloud look? Don’t tell me you’re still upset about those three harpies.”
Natasha sighed. “I’m trying to ignore it. But it’s… hard. They’re not entirely wrong. I do feel like James is giving me special treatment. And… it makes me feel…”
“Like what?” Mia pressed, taking a bite of her noodles.
“Like I… belong to him,” Natasha admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And… I hate that I don’t mind it.”
Mia’s eyes widened slightly, then softened. “Oh, honey.”
Natasha covered her face with her hands. “It’s just… I have this little crush on him, okay? And when he looks at me like I’m the only one in the room… it makes everything else feel worth it. Even the whispers.”
Instead of scolding her, Mia grinned like a cat.
“Well, good,” Mia said, nudging her shoulder. “Because he clearly feels the same way. And honestly? You’d be stupid not to fall for him. So stop worrying about what anyone else thinks. Let them choke on their jealousy.”
Natasha peeked at her, hesitant but smiling faintly.
“You really think so?”
Mia smirked. “Sweetheart, I know so.”
---
A few paces away, Warren stood frozen behind a stack of prop boxes, holding two bottles of juice.
He’d come out here to finally talk to her — maybe even make her smile the way she smiled at James — but Mia’s words echoed in his head like a slap.
“You’d be stupid not to fall for him.”
Warren swallowed hard, forcing a faint smile back onto his face.
Just as he turned to walk away, he bumped right into Samantha, nearly dropping the bottles.
“Easy, tiger,” Samantha said, catching his arm. “You okay?”
Warren forced a laugh and shoved one of the juices into her hand. “Here. Orange. Good for your skin. Or something.”
Samantha raised a brow at him as he walked away without another word, her eyes narrowing faintly.
---
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of rehearsal, blocking, and notes. Natasha worked quietly by James’s side, occasionally stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking — only to find his gaze already on her.
At one point, during a break, he leaned down to speak close to her ear.
“You’re better at this than you think,” he murmured. “Don’t let them shake you.”
Natasha froze, her breath catching. “I… won’t. Thank you.”
James straightened, his lips curving just slightly — a rare, genuine smile — before he turned back to the set.
---
By the time she finally left for the night, Natasha felt a confusing tangle of emotions swirling in her chest.
Her crush on James was growing by the hour — but so were the whispers, the judgment, and his sudden flashes of possessiveness.
It was all so… complicated.
As she settled into her cab and the city lights blurred outside the window, she couldn’t help but wonder:
Was this really what she wanted?
Or was she just playing a role in someone else’s story?
- Writer
