Descendants The Rise of Red cast one shots

Kylie x Malia

"You okay in there, Kylie?" Malia's voice echoed through the bathroom door, a mix of concern and mild irritation.

"Yeah, just a...minute," Kylie replied, her voice wavering as she took deep, slow breaths, trying to steady her racing heart.

Malia's footsteps retreated, leaving a trail of uncertainty in their wake. The bathroom was a small, cold space with stark white tiles and a single light that flickered ominously above the mirror. The only other sound was the steady dribble of a leaky faucet. Kylie leaned against the porcelain sink, her palms slick with sweat, and stared at her reflection. Her eyes were wide with fear, her makeup smudged like a poorly painted mask. She had to pull herself together. In just a few moments, she and Malia were supposed to face a room full of eager reporters eagerly waiting to dissect their every word about Descendants the Rise of Red. This was their big break, their chance to shine, and she couldn't blow it with a panic attack.

Her thoughts raced as she tried to pinpoint the trigger. Was it the pressure of the interview? The weight of their relationship in the public eye? Or was it the whispers of doubt that had been creeping into the corners of her mind lately? The script was tight, the scenes were perfect, but what if she froze when the lights hit her? What if she said the wrong thing? The questions spun in a tornado of anxiety, making it hard to breathe.

The door creaked open, and Malia slipped back in, her expression a mix of empathy and urgency. She didn't say anything at first, just moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Kylie's shoulder. The warmth of her touch was like a balm to Kylie's frayed nerves.

"Breathe with me," Malia instructed, her voice soothing. Kylie nodded and matched her rhythm, inhaling deeply, filling her lungs with the scented air from Malia's lavender perfume, and exhaling slowly, watching their reflections in the mirror mimic each other's movements. Malia's eyes held hers, the warm brown a comforting contrast to the cold, clinical room.

"Remember, we've got this," Malia said, her grip firm but reassuring. "We've been preparing for weeks. We know our lines, we know our characters, and we know each other. Just think of it as another rehearsal, okay?"

Kylie nodded again, the knot in her stomach loosening slightly. Malia's confidence was contagious. They had been together since the start of the project, their bond deepening as they worked tirelessly to bring their characters to life. Malia's calming presence had been a rock through the intense filming schedule and the endless promotional appearances.

"Thanks, Mal," Kylie murmured, a small smile ghosting across her lips. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Malia returned the smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "You'd do just fine," she said, but the truth was that she knew Kylie had always struggled with the spotlight. It was one of the many things she admired about her partner; how she faced her fears head-on, especially when it came to their careers.

They took a few more deep breaths together, and then Malia leaned in closer. "You know, I had a bit of a freak-out before my first big interview," she admitted. "But it's all about the mindset. We're not just actors here, we're the descendants of heroes. We're the embodiment of this epic story. Let's go out there and show them what we're made of."

Kylie felt a spark of courage ignite in her chest. Malia was right. They weren't just promoting a movie; they were bringing a world to life, a world filled with love, magic, and the kind of heroes that inspired people. With a deep inhale and a shaky exhale, she turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face, the shock jolting her into the present. She dried her face with a paper towel and took one last look in the mirror.

The two of them left the bathroom and walked down the corridor towards the interview room. Kylie's hand found Malia's, and their fingers interlocked, a silent promise of support. The door was open, and the sound of chatter grew louder with each step. As they entered, the room fell silent, all eyes on them. Kylie felt a fresh wave of panic, but Malia squeezed her hand, grounding her.

The interviewer, a sharp-dressed man with a gleaming smile, introduced them to the crowd. The lights were hot, blinding, but Kylie focused on Malia, standing strong and poised beside her. The first question was thrown their way, and Malia fielded it with ease, her voice clear and confident. Kylie took a deep breath and stepped up for the next one, her words flowing as if they had rehearsed it a hundred times. They talked about their characters, their chemistry on-screen, and the challenges of bringing the story to life. With every question, Kylie felt more at ease, her voice growing stronger.

Midway through the interview, a journalist in the back row asked about their real-life romance. Malia's grip tightened, and Kylie could feel the tension in her hand, but she took a page from her partner's book and met the question with a smile. "What can I say? Sometimes, when you're playing characters who are meant to be together, the lines blur a bit," she said, winking at Malia.

The room erupted into applause, and Malia leaned in to whisper, "You're a natural." Kylie felt her cheeks flush, but she knew it was true. With Malia by her side, she could conquer anything, even the most daunting of press junkets.

As the interview wound down, the final question was posed. "What message do you hope audiences take away from Descendants the Rise of Red?" The room quieted, and Kylie took a moment to collect her thoughts. She looked into Malia's eyes, filled with love and belief, and spoke from the heart.

"I hope people realize that no matter where we come from, we all have the power to choose our own destinies. Our characters are a testament to that. And maybe, just maybe, they'll believe in the magic of love and friendship as much as we do."

The applause was thunderous, and Malia's smile was brighter than any spotlight. As they stepped off the stage, Kylie knew they had nailed it. They had not only survived the interview, but they had done it together, their bond unshaken and their passion for the film palpable. The future looked brighter than ever, and as they held hands backstage, the rush of excitement for what was to come overshadowed the lingering traces of fear from the bathroom. They had each other, and with that, the world was their stage.