Curtains and Claws.

LIGURIA DISTRICT,CLARE IN IRELAND. HATHAWAY PRODUCTION SET...2 PM, LUNCH.

The camera had stopped rolling hours ago, but no one told the tension on set to pack up and leave.

The production lights at Hathaway Studio, dimmed to a golden hue as the crew slowly disassembled the final scene of the day. Chatter buzzed like a swarm of flies,everyone trying to get out, get paid, or get a drink. But not everyone was leaving just yet.

Tyra had slipped off the set quietly, like she always did. No need to stick around for the post-filming drama. Her honey-toned dress clung to her in places she didn't ask it to, and every time she adjusted it, her assistant Bione would roll her eyes and whisper, "You're not at Sunday service, honey. You're on a set with heat."

Tyra ignored her. She was already annoyed.

It wasn't the scene. It wasn't the production delays. It wasn't even the fact that Director Gary had the emotional range of a toothpick today. It was him.

Ryan.

Of course he showed up late, full of charming nonsense and ridiculous timing. Of course he had that lopsided grin and hair that looked accidentally perfect. And of course...of course...he sat down beside her during rehearsal and whispered something absolutely useless like, "Your lines are killer. But I think your eyes steal the scene."

She wanted to gag.

Except she couldn't. Because whenever he looked at her, her stomach did that stupid thing it wasn't supposed to do. The flutter. The flicker. The reminder.

That damn night.

A night that has caused nothing but tension between them.

She couldn't even look at him the same way. But Ryan? Ryan looked at her like he wanted more confusion. Like he didn't regret a thing.

And worse...he kept finding her. Elevator rides, Hallway run-ins,Lunch breaks.

Like now.

"Tyra, there you are." His voice was velvet-wrapped mischief, slicing through the air of the private lounge where she thought she'd finally gotten some space.

She didn't look up from her phone. "What do you want, Ryan?"

He dropped into the leather chair across from her without asking. "Same thing you want...Food...Peace. A little break from this circus."

Bione arched an eyebrow from the corner, ready to attack. But Tyra lifted one hand,don't. Not yet.

Ryan smiled at Bione like he'd been invited to the party. "Hey, Bione. Long day, huh?"

"Not long enough," she muttered.

Ryan chuckled and leaned forward. "Relax, I'm not here to start anything."

"You started something the moment you walked in," Tyra said, finally meeting his eyes...Cool...Detached. Not blushing. Not remembering.

"Well, you didn't exactly slam the door behind you, sweetheart," he said casually. "Kind of left it open."

"Not for you."

He grinned. "You sure?"

She could've thrown her fork. But the food arrived.

Two silver trays. One for her, already preordered. Grilled sea bass, roasted vegetables, and that annoying fig reduction sauce she didn't ask for.

And of course, Ryan's,randomly ordered with a wink and a charm to the waiter. Steak. Medium-rare. Arrogance, served sizzling.

He dug in like he owned the room.

She ate like she was biting back every retort.

"Still can't look at me for more than a few seconds, huh?" he said between mouthfuls.

"I'm eating, Ryan. Not admiring."

"Ouch. Harsh."

"I thought you liked it rough."

A flicker in his eye. Something shifted.

"Only when the company's worth it."

Bione choked on her water and mumbled something about "accidental forks in eyes."

Across the room, the door swung open.

And Rebekah entered,she was finally back on set after her exaggerated two long weeks of rest after the minor accident she had on set.

But Tyra was happy that Rebekah was back, she had been shooting scenes with Ryan back and forth because Rebekah was absent but now that she's back, there'll be a break between them both and she will be able to shoot the remaining scenes she has with Derek; second male lead; peacefully.

Rebekah was late... always late...on purpose. Her heels clicked like countdowns. Her dress screamed subtle scandal...one slit too high, neckline one breath away from indecency. And trailing behind her were her entourage.

Hailey, the calm, calculating manager with eyes like a hawk, and Daize, the assistant whose resting face looked like she was seconds away from slapping someone.

Bione's back straightened immediately. The room dropped ten degrees.

"Look who's here," Daize announced with a fake-smile-laced voice, "Miss Prim and Pursed Lips."

Bione stood. "Look who escaped the kennel."

"Daize," Rebekah said smoothly, voice dripping with controlled discipline, "Don't be rude." She cautioned with a small proud smile,laid on her heart shaped lips.

Rebekah walked right over to them and slid her palm along the edge of Ryan's chair.

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite co workers," she purred. "Mind if I join you?"

Tyra didn't answer.

Ryan? He smirked. "Pull up a chair. Just don't steal my fries."

Bione and Daize stared daggers at each other from across the room, like trained dogs waiting for their masters to give the attack signal.

Rebekah sat beside Ryan, just a little too close.

"So how was rehearsal?" she asked. Her gaze never left Ryan's face.

Ryan shrugged. "Uneventful. Except Tyra keeps trying to correct my blocking."

"She just wants to be near you," Rebekah teased.

Tyra stabbed her vegetables with surgical precision. "Or maybe I just don't want your face too close to the camera."

"Don't worry," Rebekah said, brushing invisible lint off Ryan's shoulder. "His face looks better in motion anyway."

Ryan chuckled, clearly enjoying every bit of this triangle. "I must be doing something right, huh?"

"No," Tyra muttered, slicing her sea bass. "You're just loud."

They ate. In silence. For five seconds.

Then Rebekah said, "You know, Ryan, we've never had a proper dinner. Just you and me."

"I'm not sure the world's ready," he said, throwing Tyra a glance.

"Maybe not the world," Rebekah purred. "But I am."

Tyra stood abruptly.

Bione followed suit, nearly knocking over a glass.

Rebekah sipped her wine with a sly smile.

Tyra didn't say goodbye. She didn't need to.

But Ryan did.

"See you tomorrow, Tyra."

She didn't answer.

Outside the lounge, down the hallway, Tyra exhaled like she'd been holding her breath the entire time.

Bione handed her a tissue. "For what?"

"My pride," she muttered. "I think I just choked on it."