The first meeting

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I stood at the entrance of the police station, feeling completely out of place. This wasn't the glamorous set I was used to. The building was cold, and the air was thick with the hustle and bustle of officers. Today, this place was my workplace. As an actress, I had played many roles, but this one—playing a tough, gritty cop—was proving to be my biggest challenge yet.

I adjusted the collar of my jacket nervously. Was I ready for this? I'd been on many sets before, but this felt different. My heart was pounding as I took in the stark reality of the station around me. What if I didn't pull it off? I couldn't afford to look like a fool. I glanced at the paper in my hand, then back at the station doors. Well, no turning back now.

"Can I help you?" A voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned around, startled, and saw a man standing at the front desk. His brown hair was neatly styled under his cap, and his uniform was crisp. His eyes were warm, but there was a certain coldness to him, like he was used to being professional all the time.

"I'm, uh, Detective Lucy Chen," I stammered, instantly regretting how awkward that sounded. "I'm here for the training?"

He raised an eyebrow slightly, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands. "Ah, you must be the actress." He gave me a small nod before adding, "Tim told me you'd be coming in today."

I smiled, relieved he wasn't making it awkward. "Yeah, that's me."

He didn't smile, but his tone softened. "I'm Officer Tim Bradford. I've been assigned to show you the ropes. Follow me."

I followed him down a narrow corridor, trying not to be too obvious as I looked around. A few officers passed by, their faces unreadable. No one seemed to notice me. A small part of me wanted to ask them if I looked like a real cop, but that seemed silly.

"So, what exactly are we doing today?" I asked, trying to sound confident.

Tim glanced over at me. "First, you need to know the basics—how to move like a cop, talk like one, and—most importantly—how to think like one."

"Sounds easy enough," I said, though I had no idea how any of that would work.

He shot me a side glance, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not here to sugarcoat it, Lucy. This isn't Hollywood. If you're going to do this role justice, you have to go all in."

I blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. "I get it," I muttered, feeling a little stung by his directness.

Tim stopped in front of a small training room and opened the door. Inside, there was a one-way mirror, a few chairs, and a table. It felt like something straight out of a crime drama. I had to suppress a grin, despite myself. I was in a real-life police interrogation room.

"First thing," Tim began, his voice firm, "is posture. You need to hold yourself with authority. Not just standing tall like you're posing, but standing like you're in charge."

I straightened up, trying to mirror his posture. He seemed to have an invisible air of authority about him, something I didn't think I could replicate. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked around, feeling more than a little unsure of myself.

"Better, but don't slouch. Look like you own the room."

I nodded, trying again. This time, I stood straighter, but my mind was racing. Own the room. Don't slouch. Okay, Lucy, just act like you've done this before. You're an actress, not a nervous wreck.

Tim studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Good. Now, we're going to run through an interrogation. I'll be the suspect, and you're going to ask me questions. Stay calm, and don't let me intimidate you."

I rolled my shoulders back. I'd done scenes like this a hundred times on set, but it was different when you weren't just acting for a camera.

"Where were you on the night of the 12th?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound firm, but not too forced.

Tim raised an eyebrow, his expression a little colder now. "I wasn't anywhere. I was at home, and it's on record."

I wasn't expecting that response. Tim wasn't just pretending to be a suspect—he was playing one. He was a good actor too.

I leaned forward, feeling the tension rise. "Convenient," I muttered, narrowing my eyes at him. "Let's say your alibi doesn't check out. What do you do then?"

His gaze never wavered. He didn't blink or break character. "You check again, Detective. I'm not your guy."

I leaned in a little closer, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're not getting away that easy."

Tim gave me a small, approving smile, clearly impressed with my resolve. "Not bad. But you've got to be more convincing. When you're questioning someone, you have to own the room. Command their attention."

I could feel my cheeks flush. This wasn't just about getting the lines right—it was about acting with presence. Presence. Right. Easy for him to say.

After a while, we took a break. I grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchenette, trying to cool down. I had to admit, it was harder than I expected. Being a cop wasn't just about looking tough; it was about holding your ground, no matter what.

"So, how am I doing?" I asked, leaning against the counter. I wanted his feedback, but I also couldn't hide my nervousness.

Tim glanced over at me while sipping his coffee, his eyes thoughtful. "You've got the right instincts. But you need to show confidence, not just say the lines like they're scripted."

I nodded, taking a sip of my own water, but I couldn't help feeling a little defeated. I wanted to be good at this. I had to be.

Before I could say anything else, the door opened, and another officer walked in—Officer Angela. She was tall, with a no-nonsense attitude that immediately commanded respect. She gave me a small, friendly smile as she walked up.

"Hey, Tim. How's the new recruit doing?"

I smiled back at her, feeling a little relieved. "I'm Lucy, by the way. I'm just getting started with all of this."

Angela nodded, looking me over. "You're doing alright. Tim's tough, but he knows his stuff. Just keep at it, you'll get there."

Tim shot her a pointed look. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he said dryly, but there was a flicker of a smile beneath his words.

I laughed, feeling the tension break a little. "I'm trying my best. Just don't throw me in the deep end too quickly, alright?"

Angela gave me a wink. "No promises, rookie. Tim's going to push you harder than you think."

As the day went on, we moved to different drills—mock chases, how to subdue someone, how to break down a suspect's story without them realizing it. Tim was tougher than I expected. He didn't let me off easy, but there was something about his focus, his determination to make me better, that kept me going. Every time I got something right, that small smile of approval from him made it all worth it.

By the end of the day, I was wiped out. My feet ached, my head was spinning with everything I had learned, but I felt a strange sense of accomplishment.

"Thanks for today," I said, trying to catch my breath. "I thought I was going to mess everything up."

Tim gave me a small nod, his expression unreadable. "You did alright. But we've got plenty more to work on."

I smiled, grateful for his no-nonsense feedback. As we walked to the door, I realized something: This wasn't just training for a role. It was more than that. Tim had made me believe I could actually be good at this. And even though I was nervous, I was starting to think maybe I could pull it off.

"Same time tomorrow?" Tim asked, holding the door open for me.

"Yeah, I'll be here."

And as I walked out of the station, I couldn't shake the feeling that this strange partnership was just beginning.

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