saudade | s.j.

thirty-four

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Scarlett's POV

The final days of filming feel surreal. It's bittersweet, being on set in Atlanta for the last time. For months, this place has been my second home, but now we are wrapping up.

The energy is buzzing with a mix of relief and pride as everyone works tirelessly to capture the last few shots. Once the directors call, "That's a wrap!" the entire crew breaks into applause, and the cast exchange hugs and congratulations.

It should be a moment of pure joy, but my heart feels heavy.

Y/N and I have barely spoken since our confrontation. She tried a few times to catch my eye during scenes, but I avoided her, keeping things strictly professional. It was easier that way. Or at least that's what I told myself.

Lizzie found me as we walk off set. "You okay?" she asks, falling into step beside me.

I shrug, mustering a weak smile. "We finished the film. That's something to celebrate."

"Yeah, but you don't look like you're in the celebrating mood," Lizzie says, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm just... tired," I say, dodging her gaze.

"Right," she says, clearly unconvinced.

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Y/N's POV

We did it. Filming is officially over. The director's final words ring in my ears, and the cheers of the crew surround me, but it feels hollow.

I can't focus on anything except Scarlett. She stands a few feet away, laughing lightly with Lizzie, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She looks tired, and I hate that I was the reason for it.

As the crew starts packing up equipment, Chris approaches me. "You holding up?"

I nod, though it is a lie. "Yeah. Just... glad we finished strong."

He gives me a knowing look. "You should talk to her before we leave Atlanta. This might be your last chance for a while."

I frown. He was right. Filming was over, and in a few weeks, we'd be diving straight into press tours. Weeks of interviews, premieres, and being in the public eye. If I didn't clear the air with Scarlett now, I might not get another opportunity until it was too late.

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Scarlett's POV

Later that evening, the cast and crew gathered for a wrap party at a nearby venue. It was a chance to celebrate months of hard work and say goodbye to Atlanta. The room is filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses.

I stay near the edge of the crowd, not really in the mood to socialize. Lizzie and Chris try to pull me into their conversations, but I wasn't feeling it.

"Hey."

I turned to see Y/N standing a few feet away, her hands shoved in her pockets.

"What do you want?" I ask, my tone sharper than I intended.

She hesitates but didn't back down. "Can we talk? Please. Just for a minute."

I sigh, glancing around. The last thing I want was for anyone to overhear. "Fine. Let's go outside."

We step out into the cool night air, the sounds of the party muffled behind us. Y/N turned to face me, her expression serious.

"I know things between us are... strained right now," she begins. "But I didn't want to leave Atlanta without talking to you."

I cross my arms, waiting for her to continue.

"I don't want things to end like this," she says, her voice soft. "I don't want you to think I don't care, or that I don't regret what happened. I do. Every second of it. Atlanta has honestly been hell."

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, I didn't know what to say.

"We're about to start press tours," I say finally. "Weeks of traveling together, pretending everything's fine in front of the cameras. Do you really think we can do that?"

"I don't want to pretend," Y/N says firmly. "I want to fix this. I want to fix us."

I look away, my chest tightening. "You can't just fix something like this overnight, Y/N. Trust doesn't work that way."

"I know," she says. "But I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I just need you to give me the chance to explain."

I turn back to her, searching her eyes for any hint of insincerity. But all I saw was regret and determination.

"I need time," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nods, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I understand. Take all the time you need. But just... don't shut me out completely. Please."

I don't respond, and after a moment, Y/N turns and walks back inside, leaving me alone in the cool night air.

As much as I want to stay angry, a small part of me couldn't help but hope that maybe-just maybe-we could find our way back to each other. Every time I want to let her explain, the kiss just replays in my head and I get angry. So, for now, I'm not ready to take that step. Not yet.