Chapter 79 Silent treatment
The doors slide open, and there’s Erica. She’s leaning against the back wall, the bottle of Umbra held loosely in her right hand, her thumb tracing the glass. As I step inside, her eyes do a slow, unapologetic sweep of my chest before she snaps her gaze away the second our eyes meet. I let my head tilt, my focus dropping to the bottle, then back to her face with a sharpened, hungry curiosity.
The concept was simple, a shared moment, a taste of the fragrance, an epiphany. But Miller isn't satisfied with simple. He wants fire.
"Again!" he shouts after the tenth take. "Kaden, step closer. Invade her space. Erica, when he reaches for the bottle, don't let go immediately. Make him take it from you."
With every retake, the instructions get more charged, pushing the boundaries.
"Kaden, put your hand on the wall behind her head," Miller suggests. "Lean in until you can smell her hair, but don't touch her. Tension is about the gap, not the contact." Then, a minute later.. "Erica, use the bottle to trace a line down his sternum before you offer it. Slow. Like you’re marking your territory."
Through it all, they’re professional, checking in with us after every "Cut." Are you okay with that hand placement? Kaden, you good with the proximity?
I nod and give them whatever they need. Despite my total lack of interest in women, I compartmentalize really well. My body is just a tool for the shot, a prop to be positioned. It’s work, and honestly, the physical intensity of the scene is a welcome distraction from the hollow ache that’s been sitting in my chest all day.
"And... that’s a wrap on the elevator!" Miller finally calls, looking genuinely pleased for the first time since sunrise. "Good work, everyone. Clear the set."
People immediately start dispersing. Lighting crew begins resetting equipment for tomorrow’s shoot schedule. One of the makeup artists groans dramatically while packing brushes away. "So, Miller, should I bring my swimsuit for tomorrow? Is that the vibe?"
Miller doesn't even look up from his clipboard, his voice dry and stern, though the corner of his mouth twitches. "If I see you in a bikini near my frame, I'll personally throw you overboard. This isn't a spring break music video."
She gasps in fake offense while everyone laughs. I shake my head, exhausted amusement pulling at my mouth as I glance toward the massive production boards nearby. Tomorrow’s schedule stares back at me. Private yacht shoot, sunrise call time. And for some reason, despite how exhausted I am, my brain still drifts somewhere it absolutely shouldn’t.
I check the time on my phone and a cold wave of reality hits me. No sleep. I’m looking at a straight twenty-four-hour marathon. Eva's currently holding down the fort at Orphic, and while a Wednesday night shouldn't be a total bloodbath, she’s covering for me on her only night off. I can’t leave her hanging. I’ve already changed back into my own clothes and I’m heading toward the parking lot when Miller’s voice cuts through the noise behind me.
“Sunrise means sunrise, Kaden!”
I glance back over my shoulder and lift a hand lazily. “I won’t be late.”
The math of the next twelve hours is torturous. Rush to Orphic, sling drinks until 3:00 a.m., then pivot over to the set. It’s a recipe for a mental breakdown, especially considering I didn’t exactly get a lot of rest last night. After staring at that unlabeled wine bottle and the ‘I’m sorry’ note for two hours, I’d lost the war with my own pride. I’d texted. Then I’d called.
He didn't pick up. He didn't even let it ring out the second time. Bastian doesn't want to talk. I sigh, clicking my keys to unlock my car. Maybe the exhaustion is a blessing. If my brain is too tired to function, maybe it’ll finally stop playing back the sound of his voice.
I’m almost at my car when I hear heels clicking rapidly behind me. “Kaden!”
I turn at the sound of Erica’s voice. She jogs the last couple steps toward me, curls bouncing around her shoulders slightly from the effort. She’s still in her makeup from the shoot, looking far more awake than I feel.
"Hey," she pants slightly, reaching me. "Any chance I can hitch a ride? My Uber's doing circles three blocks away and I’m losing my mind."
"I’m actually heading straight to work," I say, leaning against the driver's side door.
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Now? You’re kidding. We have a sunrise shoot."
"Yeah, I know. It's mental. But I've got a shift to cover."
"Where do you work?"
"I bartend at Orphic."
Her expression changes immediately. Not dramatically, but enough. “Wait. ‘The’ Orphic?”
I nod once. Now she looks genuinely impressed, which is fair. Orphic’s one of those places people pretend they’re too cool to care about getting into while desperately trying to get inside.
“Okay,” Erica says slowly. “That’s kinda hot.”
I laugh under my breath. She glances at the time on her phone, then back at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, if I roll up with the bartender, do I get a free pass past the velvet rope?"
I chuckle, the first real sound of amusement I've made all day. "Maybe."
"Okay then," she says, stepping toward the passenger door. "Let’s go."
I stay put, studying her face. “Shouldn’t you be heading home? Getting some rest before tomorrow?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Please. Miller’s probably gonna hold us hostage on that yacht until we look emotionally expensive enough for the footage.”
“That does sound like him.”
She waves a dismissive hand. "I’ll have one drink, dance for an hour, and head out. I need to decompress, Kaden. My adrenaline is through the roof after that elevator scene, I need to shake it off."
I study her face for a second longer, she actually means it. And honestly, I’m already late enough that arguing feels pointless. So I nod once. “Alright.” I walk around to the driver’s side while she slips into the passenger seat.