Chapter 19: Ren Was Mad. I Couldn’t Breathe.

Ren doesn't yell.

He doesn't throw things. Doesn't slam doors.

When he's mad, he goes quiet.

Cold.

Sharp.

And that's worse.

Because when Ren got mad at me—I couldn't breathe.

---

It started with a stupid thing.

An *innocent*, stupid thing.

Some crew guy named Taka had asked me to grab coffee. Just coffee. No weird vibes.

So I said yes.

Why not? I needed caffeine, and Ren wasn't even in the building.

Except he *was*.

He saw us walking back.

Saw Taka hand me a drink.

Saw me laugh too loud at a joke that wasn't even funny.

He didn't say anything.

Just watched.

---

Back on set, he didn't look at me.

Didn't sit near me.

Didn't say good morning.

Didn't ask if I was still coughing from yesterday.

I thought maybe I was being paranoid.

Until the next scene.

We were supposed to rehearse a moment where our characters almost kiss.

I turned toward him.

He turned away.

---

Afterward, I cornered him by the equipment cart.

"What's your problem?"

"No problem."

"That's a lie."

He looked at me. Eyes calm. Voice flat.

"You can go out with whoever you want."

That hit me harder than it should've.

"I *didn't* go out."

"You did."

"It was coffee!"

"So?"

I blinked. "Are you jealous?"

Silence.

His jaw clenched.

And I realized—

Oh.

Oh no.

He wasn't just mad.

He was **hurt**.

---

"I didn't even like the coffee," I said quietly. "It was bitter and weird."

He still wouldn't look at me.

"You laughed."

"I always laugh. I'm a loud girl, remember?"

He finally turned to me. Eyes intense.

"You've never laughed like that with me."

That shut me up.

Because it was true.

I didn't laugh with Ren like that.

With him… I did something worse.

I felt.

---

"I didn't know it mattered to you," I said.

He didn't respond.

Then, softly:

"It shouldn't."

"But it does?"

He nodded. Just once.

"I don't want to be possessive," he murmured. "But when I saw him with you... my brain went somewhere dark."

My heart cracked open.

"Ren."

He stepped back. "I need air."

And just like that—he was gone.

---

I stood there, dizzy.

Not just from guilt.

But from the terrifying truth that I liked it.

That he got jealous.

That I mattered that much.

I hated myself a little for it.

But I also wanted to run after him.

So I did.

---

I found him on the rooftop.

Arms folded. Wind messing with his hair.

Looking like every sad indie movie ever made.

I didn't speak. Just stood next to him.

After a moment, he said:

"I'm not mad at you."

"You sure?"

"I'm mad at myself. For feeling too much."

I swallowed.

"Then feel it."

He turned to me.

"What?"

"Feel it. Yell at me. Kiss me. Just don't shut me out."

He stared at me.

Then—he stepped closer.

---

His hands cupped my face.

"No more coffee dates."

"Only if you bring the coffee."

He nodded.

Then kissed me.

Quick. Hard.

Like a full apology and a full claim in one breath.

---

When we pulled apart, I whispered:

"You scared me."

He held my face tighter.

"You scare me too."

---

We didn't go back to set for another 20 minutes.

But when we did?

Everyone stared.

And for once—I didn't care.

We were **this close**.

Lips inches apart.

Breaths tangled.

World blurry.

One more second and we would've crossed it.

The line.

The moment.

The no-return point.

And then—

**BEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEP.**

The fire alarm went off.

---

I screamed. Literally screamed.

Ren flinched like he'd been shot.

Then blinked.

Then groaned. "Are you kidding me?"

I wanted to punch the universe in the face.

---

It had all started so sweetly, too.

We were on break. Everyone else had gone downstairs.

Ren and I stayed behind "to review scripts," which was code for "stare at each other and pretend we weren't about to combust."

One moment we were reading lines.

The next, he was tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

And then?

His hand was on my cheek.

His eyes locked on mine.

The silence said everything:

"Do we do this?"

And I said nothing.

Because I was too busy leaning in.

---

Then boom.

Sirens.

Chaos.

Sprinklers didn't go off, thank God.

But the panic? Immediate.

We yanked open the door, joined the stampede of confused interns, PAs, and a production assistant screaming, "WHO MICROWAVED A FORK?!"

I didn't even care. I was too busy trying to **unfeel** the moment that almost happened.

---

Outside, the crew gathered.

Ren stood beside me, quiet, hands in his pockets.

Neither of us spoke.

Because if we did, we might've said it:

"I wanted to kiss you."

"I still want to."

---

Taka walked past and said, "Well. That was a dramatic false alarm."

Ren didn't respond.

I asked, "You think it was really someone microwaving metal?"

Ren muttered, "I think the universe just cockblocked me."

I choked.

"What?"

He looked at me sideways. "You heard me."

---

I turned bright red.

Punched his arm.

"Maybe it was a *sign*."

"Of what? That we're cursed?"

"No. That we should take it slow."

He tilted his head. "Define slow."

I shrugged. "Slower than tongue-first."

He laughed.

Soft. Real. Dangerous.

---

Later that night, back in our building, we shared an elevator ride.

Alone.

Same tension.

Same silence.

Ren pressed the button for my floor.

Then whispered, "If the alarm didn't go off… would you have stopped me?"

I met his eyes.

"No."

Silence.

Then he said—

"Guess I'll try again when the fire department's off duty."

And just like that, the elevator dinged open.

Leaving me melted in place.

---

I didn't sleep much.

Not because I was sick.

Because I knew it was coming.

The kiss.

The real one.

And next time?

No alarm would stop it.