is it over now? [tom blyth]

7.

One thing about filming for TV is that it takes a shit load less time than a film does, especially when said TV show is independent and definitely not gunning for a box-office hit.

Alana left a few weeks into filming which gave me the drive to really push through what was left of it and get out of there. Alex and I had an unspoken agreement to pretend he wasn't dating my ex-girlfriend and, funnily enough, made him a lot more bearable to work with in the long run. Every now and then he would drop in a comment about Kira but would follow it with a softened smile in my direction that he wasn't trying to rub anything in, it was just part of conversation. It didn't take the sting off.

Last day of filming, we decided to wrap up with dinner with the whole crew and cast. Not my type of thing, considering I haven't exactly made the best of friends with everyone else, but I won't split hairs. Instead, I spend most of my day packing up the last of my clothes into my suitcases for my flight the next morning, not without pulling on black slacks and a printed button up. My phone flashed on the bedside table as I was grabbing it to leave.

Alana: Have a good dinner. I'll see you at the airport tomorrow X

My heart fluttered slightly at the text. Maybe I am not in love with Alana, but she shows a lot of love in a way that I enjoy. Her physical company, the texts, the phone calls. Whether we are in this for the long run or not, there is no denying there is an ounce of connection there.

She was invited for dinner, to come back to Dublin for the week before we flew back home together, but she was back at work and unable to get time off. Instead, we agreed to spend the weekend together when I got home and I have no doubt she has some plans for it (maybe actual plans, or maybe just clothes she plans to, or not to, wear). So, I booked an Uber just for myself and made my way to the restaurant.

It was hard to miss our group - the table took up the whole back wall of the restaurant, hailing probably half of the crew, most of the main cast, and some partners. I made my way over, flashing smiles and greetings at everyone as I arrived. Meg was quick to stand from the table, making her way straight to me and pulling me into a hug, or the best she could muster up being several inches shorter than me in heels. We said short 'hellos' to each other, before she stretched onto her toes and her lips were by my ear.

"Sit next to me, I don't think you'll want to be across from Alex." In that moment, my eyes caught with the head of curly, brown hair sat next to Alex and my stomach fell. If I knew she would be here, I would have forced Alana to come back, even if it meant twisting her arm to make it happen.

She was laughing, smiling, her voice filling the empty spaces in conversation. She always knew how to charm a crowd and knew how to make people look her way, and you couldn't help but look at her tonight. The slim, silk dress that hugged her chest and hips as she sat on the stool, that dark, emerald green standing out against her tanned skin and making the muscles in her back seem even more defined. She didn't know I was here yet, or that I was staring, but as Meg pulled away and flashed me a sorry smile, I knew that I was in for a night that was unavoidable. So, I grabbed Meg's hand as she guided me to where she sat at the table, just a few seats over from Alex and Kira and so that we were not in eyeshot.

A few people got up to greet me, others just waving, but through it all I could see her eyes on mine out of the corner of my vision. Her bright smile had turned to a sort-of scowl, one that conveyed so many messages that maybe only I would pick up on them, but the way that Alex slid his hand to her knee and gave it a squeeze showed that I wasn't the only one able to read her the way I used to.

I slipped onto the stool with Meg, chatting to everyone around me and ignoring the dark presence just up the table that alternated between charming those around her and sending daggers down my way, ones that I was mentally ducking away from. Meg, Stevan (one of the filmographers) and Angela (our hair stylist) had moved away from respectable cocktails and beers and onto the tequila shots, and when Meg slipped a small bag between my fingertips during dinner, I slid the stool back and nodded toward the bathroom to tell everyone that I would be back.