When two worlds collide

Chapter 4

The atmosphere on set was thick with tension. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air, the charred remains of the collapsed scaffold a grim reminder of how quickly things could go wrong. The crew was quieter than usual, their banter muted, the undercurrent of nervous energy replaced with caution and unease.

Y/N moved through it all, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on them. They weren't new to dangerous situations—being a stunt double meant that risk was part of the job description—but this was different. The sense of control, the careful calculations that went into every stunt, had been upended. What happened wasn't just an accident, and that knowledge buzzed under Y/N's skin like static.

After being pulled back to set, Y/N had gone through the motions—resetting for another scene, running through the next stunt choreography, making sure all the safety checks were in place. But their mind kept drifting back to Wanda's words, to the way she had looked at them with a mixture of concern and suspicion.

Magic. The idea gnawed at Y/N. They had always prided themselves on being grounded, practical—relying on their skill, their reflexes, their experience. Magic, on the other hand, felt unpredictable, uncontrollable. And now it was creeping into their world, complicating things in a way they weren't prepared for.

They finished the next stunt—a relatively simple car jump—without incident, but even as they landed smoothly and the crew applauded, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease.

Once the cameras cut, the director called a short break, giving the crew some time to regroup before they moved on to the next sequence. Y/N made their way over to the craft services table, grabbing a bottle of water and trying to let the familiar routine of set life calm their racing mind.

But the second they sat down, they felt someone's presence beside them.

"Hey," came a familiar voice. Wanda again. This time, she didn't sound accusatory or intense—just concerned.

Y/N glanced up, giving her a crooked smile. "Couldn't resist the snacks, huh?"

Wanda ignored the joke, sitting down beside them with a serious expression. "Are you okay?"

Y/N took a swig of water, trying to play it off. "I'm fine. You know me, I bounce back."

"That's not what I'm asking." Her eyes were searching again, like she was peeling back layers they didn't want exposed. "You're shaken. I can feel it."

Y/N sighed, leaning back in their chair. "You're not wrong," they admitted. "It's... weird, you know? I've done hundreds of stunts, pushed my limits more times than I can count. But today—today felt off. I'm not used to things going wrong like that. And now you're telling me there's magic involved? It's like I can't trust what's happening around me."

Wanda nodded, her expression softening. "I get it. Believe me, I do. Magic is unpredictable, and it messes with the way you see the world. But that doesn't mean you're powerless."

Y/N looked at her, eyebrow raised. "Kinda feels like I am, though. I'm good with stunts because I know what's coming—I can calculate the risks, control my movements. But if there's magic at play... how am I supposed to work with that?"

Wanda leaned forward, her gaze intense but not unkind. "You've got instincts, Y/N. You don't need magic to sense when something's off—you've already been doing that. What happened today, you knew it wasn't right before it even went down. That's not nothing."

Y/N considered that for a moment. She had a point. The tension in the air before the rig exploded hadn't just been nerves; it had been something else. Something they had picked up on, even if they didn't understand it.

"Okay," Y/N said slowly. "But if this isn't just bad luck, what do I do? I'm not exactly equipped to deal with spells and hexes."

"That's where I come in," Wanda replied, her tone firm. "You don't have to deal with it alone. I've got a handle on the magic side of things, but I'll need your help to figure out who's behind this and why. You keep doing what you're doing, and I'll make sure nothing else goes wrong."

Y/N couldn't help but smirk at that. "So now we're partners in magical crime-solving? Great, just what I needed on top of my day job."

Wanda laughed softly, the sound cutting through the tension like a balm. "Think of it as an adventure. And besides, I have a feeling you thrive on chaos."

Y/N chuckled, the weight on their shoulders lifting just a little. "You're not wrong there."

They sat in silence for a few moments, the noise of the set humming around them but feeling distant. There was a strange comfort in sitting next to Wanda, a sort of unspoken understanding between them. For the first time since the explosion, Y/N felt like maybe—just maybe—they could handle this.

But of course, the universe wasn't done with them yet.

One of the assistant directors rushed over, looking flustered. "Hey, Y/N! Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a situation."

Y/N groaned inwardly, already bracing for more bad news. "What now?"

"It's the next scene," the AD explained, shifting nervously. "There's a... complication with the wires. The team is saying the equipment is acting up. They've done all the checks, but nothing's working right. It's like the harnesses are... fighting them."

Y/N exchanged a glance with Wanda, who raised an eyebrow.

"Fighting them?" Y/N repeated.

The AD nodded, looking increasingly anxious. "Yeah, like they're moving on their own. It's... weird."

Wanda stood up, her expression darkening. "It's not just equipment failure. Someone's messing with this set."

Y/N got to their feet as well, the tension that had briefly faded now roaring back. "Great. Just what we needed—more magical sabotage."

Wanda looked at them, determination in her eyes. "We need to figure this out before someone gets seriously hurt."

Y/N nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle back onto their shoulders. "Alright. Let's get to the bottom of this."

As they headed toward the scene of the latest disturbance, Y/N couldn't help but feel the shift in their role. They weren't just the cool, sarcastic stunt double anymore—they were now part of something bigger, something more dangerous.