The following day, late afternoon, after the director called it a wrap for the day,, George exhaled, stretching his neck as he stepped into his trailer.
He loosened his tie and sat down on the edge of the couch, feeling the quiet settle around him. Unlike before, he wasn't exhausted in a heavy lonely way.
Now that he could talk to Lydia, the day didn't feel like a routine.
He didn't have to avoid her. He didn't have to pretend she didn't exist. He could look at her openly, say hello, even if their conversations were short. Just seeing her there, smiling and laughing with the other extras made the long hours worth it.
He leaned back, closing his eyes for a second, still hearing the faint echo of her laughter from earlier that day.
A sharp knock at the trailer door made him sit up.
He expected maybe the director's assistant or one of the crew members coming to discuss tomorrow's schedule. But when he opened the door, the last person he expected was standing there.
Scarlet.
"Hey," she said with a soft smile, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe. She was dressed down, her makeup gone, hair loosely tied. Still, she looked every bit the star she was.
George's expression stayed neutral. "Scarlet."
"Can I come in?" she asked.
He hesitated, then stepped aside. "Sure."
She walked in casually, glancing around the trailer. It was spotless, organized, just like him. A few books on the table, a mug half full of coffee, and a script with notes scribbled in the margins.
"You really do live like an old man," she joked, sitting on the couch without waiting for an invitation.
George crossed his arms, staying near the door. "What are you doing here, Scarlet?"
She tilted her head, pretending to be offended. "Can't someone visit their costar?"
He gave a faint smile. "You could have caught me outside. I'm sure the crew is still around."
Scarlet laughed softly, though it sounded a little forced. "Always so private, huh? You never let anyone in."
George's tone stayed calm but firm. "I like keeping things professional."
"Professional," she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Right. You know, George, most people would kill to have me walk into their trailer."
"I'm sure they would." George sounded serious.
That made her pause. She studied him for a moment, her confidence slipping just slightly. Then she leaned back, folding her arms.
"I thought we were friends," she said, her voice softer now.
George's gaze didn't waver. "We're costars."
The air between them tightened. For a second, Scarlet said nothing, just stared at him, as if trying to read his face. Then, her lips curved into a small, daring smile.
"Tell me something," she said. "Are you gay, George?"
His brow furrowed. "What?"
She shrugged, feigning innocence. "It's just..filming is almost over, and you haven't asked me out. Every man I've worked with has."
He gave a short laugh under his breath, more disbelief than amusement. "And that's supposed to mean I should?"
Her tone turned teasing again. "It wouldn't hurt."
George ran a hand through his hair and sighed, the patience in his voice thinning. "Scarlet, this isn't happening. You're a great actress, and I respect your work, but I don't mix my job with... anything else."
Scarlet's smile faded. Her eyes searched his, and something sharp flickered in them. Jealousy.
She stood up slowly, brushing imaginary dust from her jeans. "So, that's it then? You just sit here, quiet, polite, untouchable? You really don't let anyone close, do you?"
George didn't answer.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Or maybe… someone already got too close."
He looked at her, his face unreadable.
Scarlet's lips curled. "Is this about that extra? What's her name...Lydia?"
His expression tightened.
Scarlet smiled wider, sensing she'd hit the mark. "Yeah. Lydia. Do you like her?"
For a minute, silence filled the room. George's jaw flexed, but his tone stayed calm, controlled.
"Close the door behind you," he said quietly.
Scarlet blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
He met her gaze. "Yes, Scarlet. Please close the door behind you."
Her face flushed with irritation. She stared at him for a long moment, searching for any hint of weakness. But George's expression didn't change.
Finally, she gave a sharp laugh. "You really are something else, George Rowe."
She turned on her heel and walked out.
He stood still until the sound of the door clicking echoed through the small space.