The Role Of a Lifetime

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Jeremy

I'm standing in the lobby of Redwood Productions, waiting for Amaya Moon. This meeting is supposed to be casual—just a chance to get acquainted before filming her "Fading Into You" music video next week. I keep telling myself that. It's been a while since I did a project like this, and I don't know what to expect.

"Hey, Jeremy! Sorry I'm late!" Amaya's voice rings out, cutting through the soft chatter in the room.

I turn to see her walking toward me, and I'm struck by her striking look—her hair is a wild, beautiful halo of deep black, cascading in soft waves around her face and down her back. It's got a natural volume that makes her stand out, like she doesn't care to tame it but instead embraces every bit of it. Her bangs hang delicately over her forehead, framing those expressive, almond-shaped eyes.

Her eyes are the first thing you notice—big and bright, with this playful sparkle in them, like she's always thinking of a joke she might not share just yet. They're accentuated by soft shades of lavender, a bold choice that somehow matches her perfectly. Her cheeks have a natural, warm flush to them, as if she's always just come in from the cold, with a touch of blush that blends seamlessly into her smooth, caramel-brown skin.

And then there's her smile—wide and genuine, with full lips that curve upward like she's got a permanent secret she's dying to tell. It's the kind of smile that draws you in, makes you feel at ease even when you don't know her that well yet. She's wearing a cropped band tee under a checkered blazer, paired with ripped jeans and white sneakers. It's such a contrast from the glamour I'd expect of a pop singer, but it suits her.

"No problem at all, Amaya," I reply, offering her a handshake. "Nice to finally meet you in person."

She takes my hand, shaking it firmly before letting out a small laugh. "You don't have to be so formal, you know. I've actually been looking forward to this."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, totally! I'm a huge fan of Murder Diaries," she says, her eyes lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. "Especially that whole storyline where you played Spencer Lewis in season one: Campus, Ajax Rhodes in season four: Circus, and Rocco Grimshaw in Rituals. I mean, you made a cult leader look disturbingly charming—like, what was up with that?"

I chuckle, feeling a little warmth creep up my neck. It's been a while since I've heard someone talk about that character with such excitement. "Rocco was a wild ride, that's for sure. One of those roles that makes you question yourself by the end."

Amaya laughs, a bright sound that echoes through the lobby. "Well, you did a killer job—no pun intended. You made me stay up until three in the morning just to binge the rest of season seven."

"Glad I could keep you up," I say and we both laugh again. It's easy, this back-and-forth, like we've known each other longer than the five minutes we've been standing here.

Karen Montgomery, the casting director, walks over to us with a smile. Her business-like stride and clipboard tucked under her arm are all too familiar from previous gigs. "I see you two have already hit it off," she says, glancing between Amaya and me. "Good. That's what we were hoping for. Chemistry is everything for this shoot."

I nod, catching Amaya's eye. She winks at me, and I can't help but smile back.

"I think we're off to a good start," Amaya says confidently. "Jeremy's got the charm thing down. Plus, I'm excited to see how we'll bring this story to life."

"I'm just here to make you look good," I tease lightly.

Amaya rolls her eyes playfully. "Yeah, sure, Mr. Miller. Something tells me you'll do just fine on your own."

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