Chapter Text
December 17th, 2021
This day has already been taxing, and Mariska can’t help but slump her shoulders as she trudges off to her trailer for a break. With a handler at her side and another close behind her, she trusts them to be her eyes while she checks her phone for any missed notifications.
One text from Chris.
What the hell is this? he asked her with a photo of her public profile on instagram.
My instagram profile? she shoots back. Her phone lights up with his name instantaneously, and she scrunches her face up, but answers it anyway. “Hey, what—“
“No shit it’s your profile, Mariska,” he interrupts bluntly.
“Um, wow,” she says softly, shocked at his harshness. She holds up a finger to signal her handlers to step back and let her lead a few yards ahead. Clearing her throat, she adds with irritation, “And what’s your point?”
“The fuck you unfollow everyone for?” he demands, and her jaw drops.
“If you’re going to speak to me this way, I’m hanging up.” She pulls the phone away from her face and hovers over the red button, before he surrenders with a fine . Holding the phone back up, she climbs the stairs to her trailer. “Now, you mind telling me what your problem is?” The door slams shut behind her, and she plops onto the couch.
“Thought I was asking you that."
“Actually, I think you’re just being an ass,” she bites back. “It’s a PR thing, alright?”
He snorts. “And you’re actually going along with it?”
“Jesus, Chris. Why does it matter?” She rubs at her temple with closed eyes, then leans her head back. “If I’d known you would be this much of a pain, maybe I wouldn’t have fought so hard to get you back here.” She doesn’t mean that. God , she doesn’t mean that at all, but it works how she intended it to.
It shuts him up.
“What?” he whispers, barely loud enough to travel over the phone.
She straightens herself out. “You heard me. This is tiring. I don’t need you giving me shit over my goddamn instagram account like we’re children.”
“I—”
“Now I want to actually enjoy the last day of filming before our break. Which speaking of breaks, you just wasted mine with your hissyfit. So excuse me, while I go finish my job, so I can take a nice, long vacation from here.”
“Wait, you’re leaving— where?”
“Somewhere!” She hangs up the phone and blows out a huge breath, rubbing her chest with her fingers. Her phone starts buzzing again, and she ignores it. Honestly, she knows she shouldn’t be this upset, but then again, neither should he.
It’s fucking social media, and they are not at the age when an ‘unfollow’ should matter.
When her phone beeps once more, it’s a reminder that it is time to get back to set. She sighs and shuts off the alert, then stops at the mirror before exiting her trailer. There isn’t a point in standing here fluffling out her hair since she’ll be swarmed by her hair and makeup team when she returns, but she takes the moment to ground herself.
Her phone is vibrating in her back pocket now, and she grits her teeth as she cascades down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Even within this argument she is having with Chris, it still takes restraint to send him to her voicemail. Fighting with him is rare, so it’s a challenge to block him out even in the heat of her frustration.
But they just need space, she decides. (She’ll drag her family somewhere far away this week.) After a decade of not working together, it’s overstimulating now. No matter how easy it was to fall back into that comfortable routine, how refreshing it is to be at his side again, it requires a new balance that they haven’t quite navigated yet.
She rolls her eyes at the realization that they are exactly like their characters.
When her team approaches her, she shoves the thoughts out of her mind, so she can zone back into the upcoming scene she is preparing to shoot. Anytime she notices her phone light up off to the side, she takes a deep breath and reminds herself of a new manta.
Space and balance.
Deep breath.
Space and balance.