Cut To The Feeling (Reader x Professor Ren / Kylo Ren)

Roman Holiday

You were too embarrassed to go to his class. You couldn't look at him--you were positive that you would spontaneously combust if you had to be so much as be in the same room as him. 

It had been almost a week since you went out with Rey. A week since you had propositioned your teacher for sex. You had made some really dumb decisions in your life, but this had to take the cake. You were never that bold, never that forward, but everything up to that point had made you believe that he was feeling the same way you were about him. For fuck's sake, he had called you attractive several times in the night. The way he looked at you, the intensity in his belief in you, all of it made you think that he wanted to blow your back out. 

What if he's gay? Oh, my God, I was so insensitive if so. What if he just feels sorry for you and saw you in that pathetic pink dress and wanted to raise your spirits? What if he actually thinks you're hideous? What if he hates you now? 

These were the thoughts that plagued your mind for the past week. It was all you could think about. You had given him your number in the hopeless fantasy that you two would have fucked all night on your Ikea day bed, and then he would text you the next night hoping to keep the party going on your Ikea day bed. Of course, that was a silly fantasy that was only merely conceivable in your altered state, but even more than that, you did hope he would text you to help you with the new script idea. But he hadn't even reached out for that. That was a pretty ominous sign that he despised you now. 

You could drop out of the class. Well, not reasonably. You had to have the class and doing that would be moot as he was the only professor that could teach the final screenwriting class. You could just drop out of Tulane. Plenty of successful filmmakers never step foot in film school. 

But that was an absurd thought, too, and you knew that. Your allotted skip days were a thing. And you fully intended on using them. 

You skipped the next week, too, and though you felt super guilty, you were still in no place to bring yourself to see him. You hadn't even looked at his site. It just wasn't happening. 

Though you now had a load of free time, you decided against using it as genuine free time today. You needed to try to write this script. You knew that some of your peers already had ten scenes written, and up against your clean zero, that was incredibly impressive. 

You sat in front of your laptop, staring at the blinking cursor. 

"I can do this," you breathed, talking quietly to yourself. It wouldn't be hard. You just had to write a riveting and impressive story about your favorite thing ever. You were capable. 

You brought your fingers to the keyboard.

CRASH CUT TO:

EXT. CITY DOWNTOWN - DAY (MOVING)

SUPERIMPOSE: SHREVEPORT, LOUISIANA 1953

HANK WILLIAMS' MY BUCKET'S GOT A HOLE IN IT plays.

THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD OF A '49 BUICK.

We NOTICE the brick buildings lining the street with their elaborate PLATE GLASS WINDOW DISPLAYS. PEOPLE OF ALL SORTS go about their business. SHOP-KEEPS sweep their sidewalks and enthusiastically welcome the SHOPPERS wrapped in their winter coats. We NOTICE the CHRISTMAS WREATHS AND DECORATIONS as well as the many DISPLAYS AND ADVERTISEMENTS of a typical early 1950s town. The Buick comes to a stop in front of JERRY'S BARBERSHOP.

Easy enough. You could see it in your head, the movie's opening shot flowing well. You wrote some more direction, and then it was time for dialogue. The thing that scared you most.