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Olivia

The days leading up to the first kiss on set with Johnny were an exhilarating whirlwind of anticipation and anxiety. I could hardly sleep at night, my stomach fluttering with nervous energy as I tried to prepare myself for the moment that loomed just out of reach, which had me and my character on the edge of something uncharted.

I desperately reminded myself that I wasn't kissing Johnny—after all, I was supposed to embody Bacall. But no matter how diligently I tried to separate my feelings for the actor from the scene, each time the cameras rolled, my brain short-circuited, unable to drown out the sheer magnetism of the man standing before me.

When the time finally came and we stepped into our roles, I was utterly absorbed in the unfolding drama, blissfully forgetting that the entire world was watching us through the lens. As our laughter faded and the mood shifted, I felt his gentle hand tilting my chin up, and at that moment, my heart leaped into my throat, a mix of adrenaline and desire mounting with each passing second.

His scent was intoxicating, wrapping around me like a silken strand of smoke, blurring the lines between fiction and reality. When his soft lips finally pressed against mine, it was like the ground had shifted beneath me; everything around us melted away, and I could have sworn I felt the world spin on a different axis.

For a heartbeat—or maybe an eternity—I was lost, utterly consumed by the moment, and just like that, all the professionalism I had clung to slipped through my fingers. I kissed him back without thinking, surrendering to the magnetic pull that intertwined us in that instant, and I couldn't help but think my unexpected fervor might have taken him aback. Because in that blissful chaos of passion and surprise, even I was astonished by what had unfolded, a beautiful crossing of lines that had blurred far beyond the realm of acting, leaving me breathless and exhilarated, chasing the echoes of a kiss that was both scripted and shockingly real.

When I made it back to my trailer, Tommy sat on the couch with his legs crossed over one another and a mischievous smirk on his face, one that always hinted at knowing more than he let on. The dim lighting of the small space bounced off the mirrors and makeup tools, creating a cozy atmosphere that felt safe amidst the chaos of the film set.

I could hardly make eye contact when he casually asked, "What was that about?" His tone was teasing, but I sensed an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

Tommy had been my rock on set, always there to lend an ear or a shoulder to lean on when the emotional demands of acting became overwhelming. It was an unspoken rule: I would dive deep into my role during the scenes, and Tommy would help pull me back to reality afterward.

I sat down at my vanity, trying to focus on removing the remnants of makeup that had aided in creating the character I had just portrayed. "Don't ignore me," he called from behind me, and despite my best efforts to feign indifference, I felt my defenses crumble.

My eyes quickly flicked back to his, and a genuine smile broke. "I don't know what you're talking about. The kiss is in the script. There's more to come," I stated, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the excitement in my voice.

Tommy chuckled, a sound that warmed the room. "That was supposed to be Bogart and Bacall's first kiss. That kiss felt like a fifth kiss," he quipped, brow arching with playful exaggeration.

"That's quite specific," I responded, allowing a teasing tone to lace my words.

"I can't blame you. I would have been all over that man if he was touching and looking at me like that," he joked, and I laughed, feeling the tension of the day melt away as we engaged in our usual banter.

Just as I opened my mouth to reply, the familiar sound of a knock at the door interrupted us, pulling our attention away from the playful banter.

I walked to the door, curiosity gnawing at me, and opened it to reveal a tall, large man with a soft smile that instantly put me at ease. "Hello, Ms. Moore. My name is Steve, and I'm Johnny's friend. But also his security, and he asked me to come by and see if you would join him in his trailer later."

My heart raced at the unexpected invitation; the weight of his words sent a delightful shiver down my spine, igniting a mixture of thrill and uncertainty. "Yeah," I managed to reply, trying to sound casual, "I'll be over soon."

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Steve, Tommy and I erupted into exuberant squeals, our earlier composure forgotten in a surge of teenage giddiness. "What do you think he wants?" I asked, my voice tinged with hope and disbelief, my mind racing through a hundred possibilities, each one more whimsical than the last.

"Another kiss, obviously," Tommy teased, causing a laugh to bubble up from my chest, an involuntary reaction that felt refreshingly liberating.

"Stop it," I said, playfully tapping his chest as I felt a warm blush spread across my cheeks.

"I don't know. But I'm going to leave now, and I want a full report when you get done," Tommy added.

"Get out," I said with mock exasperation, stifling a grin as Tommy waggled his eyebrows mischievously and made his way to the door, leaving me to ponder this unexpected twist in my day.

The prospect of being alone with Johnny sent a rush of anticipation through me as the door closed behind him. I was left with nothing but the sound of my heartbeat and the echo of our laughter, a thrilling prelude to whatever awaited me in that trailer.

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