Chapter 15: 14

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The soundstage buzzed with life, the crew bustling to set up the next scene. Normally, I'd lose myself in the energy, letting the flurry of lights, props, and technical chatter distract me. But today, everything felt heavy. The air around me seemed thicker, the bright set lights harsher.

Walker was nearby, joking with one of the grips as he leaned casually against a wall. His laugh cut through the ambient noise, low and warm. It used to put me at ease. Now, it felt like a reminder of how complicated everything had become.

I stayed on the opposite side of the stage, pretending to be engrossed in my script. My manager's words echoed in my head like a broken record:

"You need to create some distance. Rumors like this can destroy careers, Ava. You've worked too hard to let this ruin you."

So that's what I did. I distanced myself. Every joke Walker tried to share, I brushed off. Every time he caught my eye, I looked away. And every casual moment we once shared on set, I replaced with silence.

I thought it would make things easier. Instead, it felt like walking through quicksand.

"Alright, everyone, places!" the director called, pulling me out of my thoughts. I moved to my mark, my heart pounding as Walker joined me.

The scene was supposed to be tense—a moment where our characters clashed before realizing their shared vulnerability. It wasn't hard to tap into the emotions. Standing across from Walker, I didn't have to pretend to feel the strain.

"Ava," he said quietly, just before the cameras rolled. "Can we talk after this?"

I kept my gaze fixed somewhere over his shoulder. "Let's just get through the scene."

His jaw tightened, but he nodded.

The take began, and the lines flowed between us, sharp and charged. It was some of our best work—raw, electric, and painfully real. When the director called cut, the crew erupted in murmurs of approval.

But I barely heard them. Walker's eyes were locked on mine, searching, questioning. I turned away, heading for my trailer as fast as I could without outright running.

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I shut the door behind me, leaning against it as I tried to catch my breath. My hands were shaking, and my chest felt tight. I told myself I was doing the right thing, that putting distance between us was the professional choice. But if it was the right thing, why did it feel so wrong?

A knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts.

"Ava, it's me." Walker's voice was muffled but unmistakable.

I considered ignoring him, but before I could decide, the door opened. He stepped inside, closing it firmly behind him. His expression was a mix of frustration and hurt.

"What the hell is going on with you?" he demanded.

I crossed my arms, trying to steel myself. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't do that," he said, his voice rising slightly. "Don't pretend everything's fine when it's obviously not. You've been avoiding me for days."

"I'm not avoiding you," I lied, my tone clipped.

"Yes, you are," he shot back. "You barely look at me on set. You won't talk to me unless you have to. Did I do something wrong? Because if I did, tell me."

"It's not about you," I said, exasperated. "It's about everything else. The rumors, the fans, the industry—it's too much, Walker."

He took a step closer, his frustration shifting to confusion. "Too much for who? For you or for your career?"

His words hit harder than I expected, like a punch to the gut. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" he countered. "You're so worried about what people think, you're pushing everyone away. Including me."

I looked away, my throat tightening. "You don't understand. You've never had to carry what I do."

"Then help me understand," he said, his voice softening. "Explain it to me, Ava, because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're throwing away something real over a bunch of strangers' opinions."

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "You think this is easy for me? That I want to feel like this all the time? I'm trying to protect both of us, Walker. If the rumors get worse, it won't just be my career on the line. It'll be yours too."

"I don't care about the rumors," he said, his voice firm. "I care about you."

The sincerity in his words was almost too much to bear. I turned away, my shoulders trembling. "You should care. Because this—us—it can't happen. Not in this world."

"Why not?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "Why does it have to be so complicated? We work together. We're friends. What's so wrong with that?"

I spun around, anger flaring. "Because it's never just that! Not for me. Not for someone like me. People don't just see me as Ava. They see a product, a brand. And any hint of imperfection—any scandal—can destroy everything I've worked for."

"And what about what you want?" he asked, stepping closer. "Have you even thought about that? Or are you too busy trying to be perfect for everyone else?"

His words sliced through me, leaving me raw and exposed. "I don't know what I want," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Walker sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Ava, I know this is scary. But you can't keep letting fear control your life. You're going to drive yourself crazy trying to please everyone."

I shook my head, tears finally spilling over. "It's not just fear, Walker. It's survival. You don't get it because you don't have to live with the pressure I do."

"I get more than you think," he said quietly. "But you're right—I don't know what it's like to be you. I just know that shutting people out isn't the answer."

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was heavy with unspoken truths and lingering tension.

Finally, Walker took a step back, his expression softening. "I'm not going to fight you on this, Ava. If you really think keeping your distance is what's best, I'll respect that. But I need you to know something."

I looked at him, my heart aching. "What?"

"You don't have to do this alone," he said. "Not with me, not with anyone. But if you keep pushing people away, you're going to end up exactly where you're most afraid of being—alone."

His words hung in the air long after he left, leaving me to face the silence and the storm of emotions inside me. He was right—I was scared. Scared of losing control, of letting people see the cracks in my facade. But most of all, I was scared of what it would mean to let someone in.

And as much as I hated to admit it, Walker had already found a way in. Whether I wanted him there or not.

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