35 ᴍᴍ ꜰɪʟᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ I 🎀 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒸𝒾𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓇𝒶𝓂𝓈 [𝑔𝓍𝑔] 🎀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 25

Charlie walked out of the bathroom, her heart still pounding and her body still aching from Marcus's hands. She moved through the studio like a ghost, her steps slow and deliberate, her mind distant. The noise of the set buzzed around her, voices overlapping, but it all felt muffled like she was trapped underwater, unable to break the surface.

She just needed to get through the day. That's what she told herself, over and over again. She could get through it, go home, see Gracie—maybe that would make everything feel better. Maybe.

So, she finished the rest of the shoot acting like nothing had happened and was ready to leave. But as she moved towards the exit, one of the production assistants, a young guy named Ethan, intercepted her. He gave her a hesitant smile, his eyes soft with concern. "Charlie, hey," he said, his voice quiet but careful. "Are you... okay?"

Charlie froze for a second, her pulse quickening as her gaze flicked to Ethan. She forced a smile, though it felt brittle, her lips barely moving. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, her voice flat. "Why?"

Ethan shifted awkwardly, his eyes scanning her face as if he didn't quite believe her. "You just... you seem a little off today. I noticed you went with Marcus, and he can be—well, intense. You sure everything's good?"

For a moment, Charlie thought about telling him. Thought about saying everything that had just happened—the way Marcus had shoved her, the way his words had dug into her skin like knives. But instead, she shook her head, her smile tightening. "I'm good, really. Just tired. Long day, you know?"

Ethan didn't look convinced, but he nodded slowly, stepping back to give her space. "Alright. Well, if you need anything..."

"I won't," Charlie cut him off, her tone sharper than she intended. She saw the flash of hurt in Ethan's eyes and instantly regretted it. "Sorry. I just... I need to get home. Thanks for checking in, though."

Without waiting for a reply, Charlie turned and headed out of the studio. Her mind was a tangled mess, but all she could think about was getting home. Getting back to Gracie.

When Charlie finally stepped through the front door of her house, the weight of the day fell on her like a tonne of bricks. The familiar space, normally a refuge, felt different today—heavier somehow. She could hear the faint rustle of movement coming from the bedroom, and as she walked down the hallway, she found Gracie standing in front of the mirror, halfway through getting ready.

Gracie's hair was pulled back, her makeup subtle but perfect, and her eyes focused as she applied a thin line of eyeliner. She hadn't noticed Charlie yet, so for a moment, Charlie just stood in the doorway, watching her. The sight of Gracie—so poised, so beautiful—made Charlie's chest tighten in a way that was both painful and comforting. She looked steady, secure. The kind of steadiness Charlie felt she was losing.

Finally, Gracie caught sight of Charlie's reflection in the mirror and turned with a smile. "Hey," she greeted softly, her eyes brightening as she saw her. "You're back early. How was the shoot?"

Charlie forced another smile, walking over to Gracie and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. It was soft, almost too brief, like Charlie was afraid if she stayed too close for too long, something inside her would break. "It was fine," she said quietly, her voice detached. "Just another shoot, busy as usual."

Gracie gave her a long look, like she was trying to read something deeper in Charlie's face, but she didn't push. "You gonna get ready?"

Charlie nodded, already stepping back. "Yeah. I'll be quick."