Chapter 9 — Whispers in the Spotlight
1233 Words
Chapter 9 — Whispers in the Spotlight
Natasha sat quietly at the corner of the set that morning, her phone glowing in her lap. Samantha’s post still lingered at the top of her feed — a candid photo of her sitting by the river with Warren and Kevin, all three laughing. The caption read:
“BrightStar’s newest star behind the scenes 🤍✨ #TheLinesINeverSaid”
She scrolled through the comments, her heart sinking at the words that stood out in bold black letters:
“Who does she think she is? Clinging to every guy there?”
“Warren deserves better.”
“What a flirt.”
Natasha locked her phone and pressed it to her chest, trying to breathe.
Just then, she heard the unmistakable sound of Mika’s laughter a few feet away.
“She really thinks she’s the queen of the set,” Mika scoffed, loud enough for Natasha to hear.
Anna giggled. “First James, now Warren and Kevin? Who’s next, the cameraman?”
Sophia smirked. “No wonder she works late with the director… she’s probably earning more than just her salary.”
Natasha gripped the edge of her script and lowered her gaze, her cheeks burning.
That’s when she heard his voice — soft, but with a dangerous edge.
“Natasha.”
She looked up to see James leaning against a nearby light stand, his dark eyes locked on her. He tilted his head subtly. “Come here.”
She rose hesitantly, following him behind one of the trailers where they were out of sight.
The moment they were alone, James’s hand snaked around her waist and pulled her close. His palm settled on her lower back, his lips brushing against her temple.
“Why were you sitting with Warren and Kevin yesterday?” he murmured, his tone low but cutting.
Natasha stiffened. “They… they just joined me. I didn’t invite them. And it was just… it was nothing.”
He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You’re mine, Natasha. Don’t give them the wrong idea. Or anyone else.”
Her pulse fluttered. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to—”
James’s thumb brushed over her lips, silencing her. “You’re forgiven.” His voice softened as he bent down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “But don’t let them see us like this. People talk too much.”
Natasha blinked at him, the sweetness of his touch clashing with the bitterness of his words. “Oh… okay.”
He smiled faintly and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Good girl.” Then, as quickly as it started, he pulled away, straightening his jacket and walking back toward the crew as if nothing had happened.
Later that afternoon, Natasha worked quietly in the script tent, her pen moving through revisions. She felt someone hovering nearby and looked up to see Warren grinning at her.
“Hey,” he said easily, hands in his pockets. “You’re always working, huh? You’re making the rest of us look bad.”
She smiled faintly. “Someone has to.”
He leaned against the table. “Well, at least take a break to eat these. My mom always said no good decisions are made on an empty stomach.” He handed her a small bag of pastries.
Natasha’s lips curved into a shy smile. “Thank you, Warren. That’s… really sweet of you.”
“Not sweet. Strategic,” he teased. “If you faint from hunger mid-shoot, who’s going to save the show?”
She chuckled softly, her cheeks warming. “You’re impossible.”
“Hey,” he said after a beat, his tone quieting, “you deserve someone who makes you smile like that all the time. Not just… here and there.”
Natasha froze, unsure how to respond. Before she could say anything, James’s voice rang out across the set.
“Natasha. Over here.”
She stood quickly, muttering a soft “thank you” before scurrying back to James, leaving Warren’s smile faltering in her wake.
That evening, after the shoot wrapped, James caught her arm as she passed him.
“Come with me,” he said simply.
He led her to his car parked at the edge of the forest road, where he leaned against the hood and motioned for her to stand between his legs. He rested his hands on her hips, fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he murmured.
Natasha swallowed, her eyes fixed on the ground. “I’m just… tired.”
His hands tightened slightly, pulling her closer. “Don’t be tired for me. Not for us.”
She hesitated, then placed a hand gently on his chest. “…James?”
He hummed low in his throat.
“…Can I ask you something?”
His brow furrowed slightly. “Go ahead.”
She took a shaky breath. “I was just wondering… about your family. You never… talk about them. Do you have brothers? Sisters? What are they like?”
James’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. His gaze drifted away. “…That’s not important. My family and I… we don’t really talk.”
“Oh,” Natasha said softly, feeling a pang of sadness.
After a moment of silence, she looked up at him again. “…Would you… maybe want to meet my family sometime?”
James’s hands froze on her waist. He blinked at her, his face unreadable.
“That’s…” He cleared his throat. “…I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not right now. Things are… complicated.”
Natasha’s shoulders sagged slightly. “…Oh. Okay.”
He tilted her chin up again, forcing a small smile. “Don’t pout. We’ll figure things out in time.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss against her lips — soft but possessive.
She kissed him back, but when he pulled away, her heart felt heavier than before.
That night, lying in her cot, Natasha stared at the canvas ceiling, clutching her phone to her chest.
James’s kiss still lingered faintly on her lips — but so did his words. “We’ll figure things out in time.”
Why did it feel like everything with him was on his terms? Like she had to constantly earn his attention, his affection, his approval.
Her mind drifted back to another time — back in high school, when she’d fallen for someone for the first time. He’d been her first and only boyfriend, a boy from her class who’d said all the right words, held her hand in the hallways, and promised her forever.
She’d believed him.
Until the day she’d caught him kissing another girl behind the school building.
She still remembered the sting of betrayal, the shame of being laughed at, the tears she’d hidden in the bathroom stall.
After that, she’d decided boys weren’t worth her time. She threw herself into her studies, graduated with honors, and promised herself she’d never let anyone make her feel that small again.
But here she was — lying awake, her chest aching, wondering if she was making the same mistake all over again.
Outside, faint laughter floated through the night — Warren’s warm, carefree laugh carried on the breeze.
Natasha closed her eyes, hugging herself tighter.
And she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d chosen the wrong man after all.
- Writer
