Most Ardently | Pedro Pascal

two

We finished filming the final scenes for 'August Sun' around five hours ago. As soon as Sean shouted the final cut, tension rolled off my back, and I almost laughed with joy. It's not that I have been miserable the last few months because I haven't. It's just that the thought of never having to work under his critical eye again filled me with great relief.

I know that being the lead in 'August Sun' required a more solemn performance in comparison to my previous work, but have I not proved my talent already? It felt like every take was another audition in which I had to fight for my dignity. Sure, most of my acting experience has been from shooting commercials, but I have been working my way up in recent years; my nomination for best supporting actress in a kid's movie from two years ago sits heavy in my mind. At least my name was out there.

Still, it felt like no one trusted me to be alone on set or make a decision about my character for myself. So, when we finally wrapped, I seriously debated going straight home and drinking enough wine to wash out the grubby feeling in my gut. It became a bit more complicated when Pedro invited everyone to his house for a wrap party. I still could have avoided going, except he asked me personally to be there. It would have been easier if he simply shouted the announcement to the room, but he didn't. Instead, he told me how much he looked forward to seeing me there.

I was, unfortunately, alone outside of my trailer when he told me this, so I couldn't deflect or lean on Allison to avoid him. Like the few times we spoke before, he was kind, but I could see the apprehension through his whole body and his voice. I agreed to come only because I had no excuse otherwise. When I told him, he smiled shyly at the ground before schooling his expression and simply telling me, "see you 'round, Dev".

The way he spoke my nickname so casually irked me for the rest of the day. Who did he think he was? He barely knew me. I'm sure he knew this and only said it to get to me.

An hour into the party, even two Jack and Cokes couldn't help settle my agitation. When I first arrived, I tried my best to make peaceful small talk with the other actors and crew members there, but I felt like I was acting as much as I had been on set the past several months. Allison was there, but she was having fun with the other people from the hair and makeup department, and I didn't want to intrude. Eventually, I gave up, retreating to the other end of the house where I found a cozy library.

The slightly ajar door enticed me as if it were waiting for me to stumble upon it. A single lamp in the far corner illuminated the shelves of books and various trophies lining each wall. The multiple rugs layered on top of one another worked well to absorb the sound of the party, and without further thought, I dropped into the corner of one of the plush leather couches in the center of the room.

I drained the last of my third drink with a content sigh. I closed my eyes for a few moments, rolling out the tension in my neck before pulling my phone out of the pocket of my fur jacket. I had only been scrolling through Instagram for a few minutes when I suddenly heard the party's very own host behind me.

"Finally decide you're too good for us?" He asked smugly. He held two bottles of wine in each hand where he stood, leaning against the doorway.

I rolled my eyes and focused back on my phone. I expected him to blow me off and leave me alone like he usually does; instead, he admitted, "You know when we first met, I thought you were going to be much more lively. Social."

"Did you follow me over here just to say that?"

Pedro smirked and held up the wine. "Wine storage is next door. You sure you didn't come to the library in hopes of catching me alone?"

"God, get over yourself," I muttered softly.

"But seriously- you're not having fun? You know, when I was your age, I was throwing parties in my small-as-shit, shoebox apartment every chance I got," Pedro laughed at the memory as he finally sauntered into the room. He perched on the armrest of the couch opposite me, bottles still clutched in his hands but resting comfortably on his thighs.