Chapter: Career Lessons

Ten minutes.

It wasn't the time Renly needed to talk, but the time set aside for Melissa to gather herself.

Renly wasn't certain if ten minutes would be enough, but the crew didn't have much time to spare.

The art theater they were using was a temporary filming venue rented by the crew to create a retro atmosphere. The movie theater's management had offered the space at a low price, knowing that it would be closed for a full day due to the filming. The loss of business wasn't small, so in an effort to minimize the impact, the crew had arranged to film during the day and hoped to finish before prime time in the evening, allowing the cinema to reopen for the evening crowd. This thoughtful approach was typical of an independent film crew.

Despite the careful planning, "Boom Drummer" still had a number of scenes to shoot. Damien hoped to complete everything in one day, which meant speeding up the process, and there was little room for error. The tight budget had a domino effect on the entire production, and everyone felt the pressure.

So, ten minutes. Whether Melissa was ready or not, that was the time she had. If she couldn't pull it together, Renly would make good on his word.

This is the reality of the acting profession—the coldness of it.

For some actors, holding up a scene might take hours, or even an entire day, leaving the crew waiting while the costs mount. If an actor doesn't have the clout to make the crew wait, they risk being replaced on the spot, and their reputation could be permanently tarnished.

Ten minutes passed in a flash.

The crew remained on standby, waiting for Damien's cue. The production manager approached Renly, checking in, "Ten minutes have passed. She still needs a little more time, or should we..."

Renly stood up, signaling the crew to get moving. "I'm ready. Let's start shooting."

Once Renly spoke, the crew sprang back into action. Melissa, standing at the counter, felt a wave of tension. She didn't collapse this time but instead quickly composed herself, turned, and looked at Renly. She forced herself to stand straight, presenting an image of resolve.

Renly stood a mere arm's length away from her, his presence calm and unwavering. Melissa, however, still avoided making eye contact, her nervous energy betraying her calm exterior.

Renly's brow furrowed slightly. He could sense that they still needed to connect—just a little more communication, a final step toward the proper dynamic for the scene. It was all about the work.

"Look at me," Renly instructed, his voice firm yet not unkind. Melissa's eyes remained restless, but he continued, "I like you. You must know that. I'm in love with you, fully and wholeheartedly. But I lack confidence and courage. Even talking to you feels impossible. I think I'm not worthy of you. I see you as something beautiful, and I hope that you can look at me, even if just for a moment."

Renly wasn't speaking as Renly but as Andrew.

Melissa froze. The words washed over her, and before she could think, her gaze lifted, meeting Renly's eyes. The calmness in his light brown eyes, the quiet intensity, made her mind go blank. She found herself pulled into the moment, unable to distinguish between reality and the world Renly had created for Andrew.

"I need you to look at me the way I'm looking at you now," Renly continued. "I'm showing you my true self—vulnerable, without any pretenses. It's not easy, but it's all I can do. I stand before you, timid yet sincere, asking for a chance, a possibility for a date. After that, I'll do everything I can to impress you, because that's my sincerest hope."

Melissa was dazed, unsure of what had just happened. When she finally spoke, the word "Okay" escaped her lips before she even realized what she was saying.

Renly gave a slight nod. "Yes. Just like that. Remember, you have the power now."

The realization hit Melissa like a wave. What had just occurred? This had been Andrew's confession, not Renly's. But in the moment, her mind had blurred the line between the two, creating a fantasy that felt all too real.

Yet, the sincerity in Renly's eyes remained with her, lingering long after she understood what had transpired. She nodded, her voice failing her, and she struggled to pull herself together.

Renly turned, giving a subtle "okay" gesture to Damien. The signal was given, and the scene was ready to begin again.

Damien took a deep breath, checked with the crew, and without further hesitation, he called, "Action!"

Andrew hesitated as he made his way toward the counter. The short walk seemed longer than it was. His shoulders straightened, his posture became more confident, and though he tried to hide it, his nervousness showed through in every movement. His eyes never quite landed on Nicole; instead, they darted around, betraying his unease.

When he reached the counter, he didn't immediately speak. His gaze landed on Nicole, who was greeting customers with her usual bright smile, and he forced a stiff smile in return. But his eyes never quite met hers, spinning in circles, showing his inner turmoil.

"Hey," Andrew said awkwardly.

"Hey, hello," Nicole responded with a smile.

"You… hello. How are you?" Andrew stammered, his hand awkwardly shoved in his pocket, trying to appear relaxed but only highlighting his discomfort. His voice faltered, and his movements were stiff, as though he were disconnected from his body.

"I'm fine, thank you," Nicole replied, her smile never wavering.

The silence between them stretched, awkward and thick. Andrew's gaze drifted elsewhere, nervously flicking toward the popcorn machine. He seemed to search for something—anything—other than making eye contact.

Nicole, trying to fulfill her work duties, leaned forward slightly, observing him as though waiting for him to get to the point. She offered a gentle reminder, "According to the routine?"

"Ah, no…," Andrew snapped back to reality but still couldn't focus. His eyes fell to the counter, as if he was studying it intently. "I, uh, don't know much about the situation… Why… uh…"

He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. "I see you here often. I think you… Hmm… very beautiful."

For a moment, he hesitated, then, gaining a little courage, he looked up, his eyes full of anxiety, but something more fragile—a silent plea. "Would you like to go out on a date with me?"

Andrew forced a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. It was as if the smile was an automatic response, not genuine, a facade built from nerves and uncertainty.

The silence that followed was palpable. Nicole's smile faded as she observed him. Slowly, the smile at the corner of Andrew's mouth began to stiffen, and the light in his eyes dimmed.

"Please leave," Nicole said calmly, her voice devoid of warmth.

Andrew froze, his body stiffened, his expression crumbling. Panic overtook him as he stood there, uncertain, a stark contrast to the confident figure he had tried to project. His entire demeanor deflated, his self-assurance slipping away in real-time.

The rejection was crushing, but this was the cost of his vulnerability.