Chapter 7 — Ties That Bind
1704 Words
🌹 Chapter 7 — Ties That Bind
The camp was quiet under a navy sky, broken only by the soft hum of the generator somewhere in the distance. Most of the crew had already retreated to their tents, and Natasha lay on her cot staring up at the canvas ceiling, wide awake.
Her mind was noisy — memories of James’s faint smiles, the way he looked at her when no one else was watching. It made her stomach flutter and ache all at once.
With a sigh, she sat up, slipped her phone into her sweater pocket, and ducked out into the cool night air. The forest smelled of pine and damp earth, and the stars glittered between the trees.
She walked a few steps away from camp and leaned against a log, unlocking her phone.
The call connected after just a ring.
“Natasha? At this hour?” Maricar’s voice was bright even though it was late.
“I… couldn’t sleep,” Natasha admitted. “I just… needed someone to talk to.”
“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re overworking yourself already! What’s wrong?”
Natasha hesitated, then gave a soft laugh. “I… met someone. Well… I didn’t just meet him. We’ve been working together. The director. His name is James.”
There was a dramatic gasp on the other end. “The director? Ooh, big shot! And he’s treating you nice?”
Natasha smiled faintly, staring at the ground. “Yeah… more than nice. He’s… kind. Protective, even. He makes me feel… seen.”
Maricar’s voice softened. “That’s sweet, Tash. But… what’s your label? Is he courting you? Dating? Or is it just… I don’t know. Undefined?”
That question made Natasha’s heart stumble.
“I… don’t know,” she murmured.
There was silence for a beat before Maricar chuckled softly. “Oh, Natasha. Just be careful, okay? You’re a soft heart. You deserve someone who’s sure about you.”
Natasha quickly changed the subject. “Enough about me. How’s your business? I saw on i********: you launched something new?”
Maricar happily started talking about her boutique’s new branch opening, her boyfriend helping out, how busy she’d been. Natasha listened, smiled at her excitement, and ignored the hollow feeling creeping up her chest.
A few minutes later, Maricar said cheerfully, “My boyfriend just walked in — sorry Tash, I have to go. But call me again soon, okay?”
“Okay,” Natasha said softly. “Goodnight, Maricar.”
She hung up and turned off her phone, staring at the dark forest around her — until she nearly screamed.
From behind a tree, a figure stepped out.
“Whoa, whoa, easy!” Warren’s voice said quickly, hands up in mock surrender.
Her heart hammered. “Warren?! You scared me! I thought you were — a ghost or something!”
He grinned, leaning lazily against the tree. “Well, I do haunt sets from time to time. Boo.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “What are you even doing out here? You scared the life out of me.”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied. “Couldn’t sleep?”
She nodded faintly.
“Same here,” he said. “Insomnia. I don’t fall asleep easily, so I make sure to exhaust myself first. Usually helps.”
She tilted her head curiously. “You get insomnia?”
“Every night,” he said matter-of-factly. “Not dramatic or anything. Just… my brain doesn’t know when to shut up.”
A sudden rustle caught his attention. He crouched slightly and pointed.
“Look!”
Natasha followed his gaze — a squirrel was darting across the underbrush, stopping to nibble something before scurrying up a tree.
Warren pretended to whisper dramatically: “There it is. The rare and mighty forest squirrel. Majestic. Fearless. Has better hair than me.”
Natasha couldn’t help but laugh, covering her mouth.
Warren straightened, grinning at her. “See? I’m good at this. Lightening moods. It’s a talent.”
“I can see that,” she said, still smiling.
“Here,” he said suddenly, pulling his phone out. “Follow me on i********:. Or whatever you kids use. That way if you need a laugh when you can’t sleep, you know where to find me.”
She flushed slightly, taking his phone and typing in her handle before handing it back.
“Thanks, Warren,” she said softly.
When she yawned moments later, Warren smirked.
“Ah-ha. My work here is done. Get back to your tent, sleepyhead. Or you’ll be useless tomorrow.”
She laughed again. “Goodnight, Warren.”
“Night, Natasha,” he said, watching her go, his grin fading into a quiet, wistful smile.
The next morning dawned crisp and cold, the forest filled with the sounds of birds and shuffling crew members pulling themselves out of their tents. Natasha hadn’t slept much, even after Warren sent her back to bed.
She replayed his words — his silly jokes, his easy charm — and Maricar’s voice asking her: What are you two, anyway? Dating? Courting? Or nothing?
It left her feeling… small. And confused.
But when she emerged from her tent, clutching her clipboard, her breath hitched the moment she spotted James already at work. He stood at the center of the clearing, giving quiet but firm orders, looking sharp even in casual clothes and boots.
Her chest tightened.
She wasn’t nothing. At least… she didn’t feel like nothing. Not when he looked at her the way he sometimes did.
The clearing was bathed in warm sunlight by the time they started shooting.
Natasha stood to the side, notes in hand as Samantha and Kevin ran through their dialogue under James’s sharp gaze.
Kevin leaned against a tree, delivering his line lazily:
"You think I don’t see what you’re doing? You think you can just walk away like none of it mattered?"
Samantha replied, but her delivery was flat:
"Because it didn’t matter."
James pinched the bridge of his nose and barked:
“Stop. Stop. No emotion. You’re saying the words, but I don’t believe either of you.”
Kevin groaned. “We’ve been at this all morning, boss…”
“And yet I still don’t feel it,” James shot back. His gaze snapped to Natasha.
“You. Come here. Take her lines. Kevin, keep yours. Let’s see if someone here can actually make me believe this scene.”
Natasha froze, eyes wide.
“M-me?”
“Yes, you. Now.”
She shuffled forward nervously, clutching her clipboard. Kevin shot her a small, encouraging smile.
“Don’t worry,” he said under his breath. “I’m a good scene partner. Promise.”
Natasha gave a shy smile and nodded.
James crossed his arms. “From the top.”
Kevin started again, his tone sharper this time:
"You think I don’t see what you’re doing? You think you can just walk away like none of it mattered?"
Natasha took a deep breath, met his eyes, and replied, her voice trembling but full of quiet ache:
"Because it didn’t matter. You didn’t matter. Not the way you think you did."
Kevin blinked, momentarily thrown off by the emotion in her voice, but he quickly recovered.
"Then why are you still here? Why haven’t you left if it was all nothing to you?"
Natasha’s hands tightened on the clipboard, her words cutting sharper now:
"Because… because you keep pulling me back. Even when I try to forget you, you find a way to stay in my heart."
There was a beat of silence on set. Even Samantha looked impressed.
James’s lips tugged into a faint smirk. “Better. Kevin — did you feel that?”
Kevin gave Natasha a sideways glance, half-smiling. “Oh yeah. Felt like a punch to the gut.”
“Good,” James said. His eyes met Natasha’s, lingering. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel.”
Natasha’s cheeks burned, but a faint sense of pride glowed in her chest.
She turned slightly to Kevin and whispered, “Thank you for keeping up.”
Kevin grinned. “Are you kidding? You just made me look good.”
Samantha, meanwhile, folded her arms and muttered, “Guess we’ve got a new leading lady around here…”
As the rehearsal wrapped, James pulled Natasha aside.
“You’ve got a good ear for dialogue,” he murmured, so no one else could hear. “And a good heart behind it. That’s rare.”
Natasha swallowed hard, her chest warm. “Thank you… I just… want to make you proud.”
He held her gaze a moment longer, his dark eyes softening. “You already do.”
For a second — just a second — she thought he might reach for her hand, but then someone called his name and he stepped away, leaving her standing there, heart pounding.
From across the set, Warren watched them quietly.
He leaned against a tree, hands in his pockets, his smile dim and faintly sad.
Samantha passed by and gave him a sly look. “You really are hopeless, you know,” she teased.
Warren just chuckled under his breath. “Maybe. But I can still cheer her up better than he ever will.”
Samantha arched an eyebrow but didn’t press.
By the time lunch rolled around, the three women were at it again — whispering, casting glances her way, their laughter sharp.
“She’s really milking it now,” Mika hissed.
“Bet she thinks she’s his little muse,” Sophia added.
“Sad,” Anna finished with a scoff.
Natasha sat down under the trees to eat, trying not to listen.
Her phone buzzed — a message from Maricar: Good luck today, soft girl! Don’t forget who you are. Proud of you always.
Natasha smiled faintly at her screen, the words bringing a strange sting of tears to her eyes.
When she looked up again, James was watching her from a few paces away — his usual stern mask in place, but his eyes softer, searching hers.
And even though she felt small, even though she hated the whispers… she felt herself falling a little further.
- Writer
