Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Everyone was sat in a waiting room for an audition for some kind of circus show. It was pitched a while back, but no advertisement had been made until recently, when they needed a cast.

Ryan was definitely.. the odd one out here, he figured. Everyone else had a relatively normal.. body. Except for a ribbon like person in a mask, and the purple rabbit in the corner, tapping his foot to some music he had playing in his ear buds.

And of course, Ryan had about three energy drinks on hand- one alani and two monsters- as he slumped in his seat, waiting to get called.

Alex was.. a little nervous, to say the least. This was their first time acting. They did.. plays, but had never been casted in any shows before. Especially not one so.. energetic and colorful. They didn't hate it, they just.. weren't used to it.

Damien sat in the middle of everyone, tapping the stand of his foot on the ground a tad bit anxiously. He wished his wife was here. Maybe at some point, she'd get casted for a side character? He promised he'd put in a good word for her.

And finally, Maggie, who sat uncomfortably in her dress. She hadn't dressed up SUPER fancy, but definitely more formal than everyone else. She wanted to speak and get to know everyone, but she figured it'd be better if she waited.

Ava was seated next to Alex, though she hasn’t said a word since she arrived. Instead, she’s hunched over with a pencil and sketchbook, seeming very focused. It appeared that she was doodling visions of her character she’d be portraying.

Christine sat parallel to Damien, very deep in thought. She’d been in other productions, but this production was certainly more unique. She smiled, taking a sip of water to prepare herself.

At last, Ruth arrived with a large box— flustered, apologizing for being late. Work had run a little later than usual, and she bought donuts for everyone. She gave Damien a quick peck on the cheek before setting the box down and seating herself.

Ryan watched as Ruth walked in with donuts. He never really ate in front of people, due to his appearance. It wasn't exactly the most pleasant thing to look at. "Ah- no thank you." He said quickly.

Jackson was going to just ignore the person who walked in- but when he overheard she had donuts, he almost immediately leaped from his seat, snagged a chocolate frosted one, and sat back down. "’Preciate it." He told her.

Alex raised an eyebrow at how quickly Jackson had gotten up to get one. But they wouldn't judge. Donuts were pretty good. They got up and grabbed one as well- followed by Maggie- and they both thanked Ruth.

Damien smiled at his wife's arrival, and grabbed her hand when she sat down. "They should start calling people soon." He told her.

Neither Christine nor Ava payed any attention to the donuts. They were still lost in their own little worlds.

Ruth nodded and put her hand on her face in awe. “My! such a brilliant crowd!” She smiled nervously. “I wish you all luck!”

Ryan looked over at Ruth's words and nodded. He seemed to constantly have a neutral expression- that, or he couldn't do facial expressions. He hasn't made one yet for anyone to know.

"Ah, you too." He told her. "Are.. you auditioning too?"

“Oh! well, it wasn’t really my idea..” Ruth replied. She patted Damien’s lap—“My husband recommended I come in, and I couldn’t say no to that face.” She shifted to face Ryan, smiling. “Thank you.”

Ava finally glanced up, realizing the volume in the room had increased. The donuts drug her away from her work for a quick moment. She hadn’t eaten all day.

Christine glanced around the room at all the different morphs. She chuckled to herself, before noticing the donuts.

“Oh! thank you, miss!” she exclaimed with a smile. She grabbed a donut and took a bite. Mouth full, she said “doesanaone kmow when willlbe stahrting?”
[Does anyone know when we’ll be starting?]

Ryan nodded again. He felt she would be a fantastic actor. Perhaps related to Damien's character in some way? He wasn't sure. Either way, he thought it was pretty neat.

When Christine asked when they'd be starting, Damien looked down at a watch around his wrist, then at a paper he had in his hand. "Says the casting starts at 2:30. It's 2:28, so-"

He was immediately interrupted by a director walking in. "Ryan and Christine." She called out. Ryan immediately stood up and set his drink down on the table, walking over to where the director was- though a hallway and a door, and onto a stage- said stage would later be the set up for where the show was taking place.

Christine almost choked shoving the rest of the pastry in her mouth, jumping up at her name being called.

She darted to follow close behind Ryan, the blinding lights beat down on the two of them as they walked up the stairs of the stage.

Ryan looked back at Christine as they walked onto the stage and in front of their microphones- and a few of the staff members.

One of which hands them a piece of paper with a scene of lines. Ryan guessed they were things they had to read- because there was one for a character named Caine, and another named Pomni (with their names written to the side to know which one was which.)

He read the lines before looking over at Christine to see if she had read them and was ready.

Once he had confirmation, he cleared his throat and started reading. And his calm, slightly monotone and soft voice drastically changed to match the upbeat tone of his character- it was bizarre.

"Ah, Pomni, there you are! I wanted to ask you about the adventures! What did you think of the gloinks? Pretty creative, ey?"

Christine nodded and was slightly taken aback by his amazing switch of tone! it was genuinely impressive.

He surely HAS to do this for a living, she thought. Then she snaps back into focus and reads.

“I- you- WHY?!? Did you see my hand?? What happened to me??”

Granted, the real nerves in her voice really stepped up the ‘nervous wreck’ this Pomni character seems to be.

Ryan's jaws widened a bit- the first time he had actually shown an emotion with his jaws. It resembled someone widening their eyes.

Wow. She was really good. Especially that shaky voice she had.

"I saw nothing!" He exclaimed energetically. "I mean, is your hand still glitching? I should've fixed that."

Christine feels the thrill in her chest, now channeling her entire body into her lines.

She looks down at her hand, her face twitching in disbelief.

“Oh—w-well.. No...” Her shoulders fell, face twisted in confusion just as the script says.

Ryan waved his hand as exaggeration. "Then you'll be fine! Don't you worry." He hummed before almost immediately falling back into his calm, monotone voice and lazy face.

"Uh.. how was that?" He asked, looking over at the staff, who were writing stuff down.

"Very impressive. We'll certainly keep you on the lists." They told the both of them before allowing them to leave.

As Ryan walked off with Christine, he looked over at her. "Your acting is really good." He told her- sounding impressed despite his flat voice.

Christine turned to look at him, her eyes smiling and her cheeks flushed. “Thank you! This is like my 5th new project just this year. I mainly do commercials though—“

She caught herself rambling, cleared her throat and straightened up.

“You did AMAZING! I had no idea you could.. I mean- I didn’t know you had..” she stammered. The words fell out before her brain finished processing what she was going to say.

"Energy?" He finished her sentence, raising his top row of teeth halfway- like someone raising an eyebrow- before he shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I appreciate it. I like acting, but I also don't like being energetic all of the time. It kinda ruins who I actually am, in my opinion." He told her.

I mean, he wasn't lying. He could rarely recall a time where he was actually energetic without acting. Sure, he made jokes, poked fun, complimented people- but there was always a tired look on his face and a calm tone behind his voice. Despite it having a clearly high energy tone behind it. Like he was made to talk energetically.

Christine raised her eyebrows in a shocked expression at his reply. She didn’t mean to offend him or imply he wasn’t enough.

“N-no! I didn’t mean it that way. Sorry, I’m just really impressed!” her hands lightly flail as if she’s defending herself from danger.

Her body language is ALWAYS energetic, so much so it can be a lot to handle. She’s always embraced that side of her, extending her energy through TV shows and movies to children all around the world.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

Ryan shook his head. "You didn't offend me. The fact you didn't think I had energy at all is a compliment in itself." He told her.

Honestly, he liked impressing people. He liked hearing compliments.

When they headed back to the waiting area, another pair of people were called. Then another. And another. Finally, everyone had been looked at, and they told them they could go home, and they'd been told that they would be contacted if they got the role.

.

A week later, Ryan was back at the studio, watching everyone filter in. They all had name tags with what character they were playing. He looked at everyone's name tag as they filtered in.

Damien as Kinger, Alex as Zooble, Ava as Gangle, Maggie as Ragatha, Jackson as Jax, and Christine as Pomni. And of course, Ryan as Caine.

This was more of an orientation day. Trying on outfits, looking at the set, getting to know each other- the producers had reserved a spot for them at a nearby restaurant for later that they'd all go to and chat.

Christine fidgeted with her tag a moment, more than eager to start this project. She loved how colorful and chaotic it’s been teased to be.

The familiarity from her previous work made her comfortable and prepared. She’d already made conversation with a few people, but Ryan caught her eye.

He was laid back with his arm propped up on the back of his chair. Christine approached with a warm smile: “Hi Ryan! Have you been practicing your character?”

Ryan noticed Christine coming up to him and he looked over at her. Wow. He was.. sort of surprised that someone would willingly come up to him and talk to him.

I mean, he's always been told he doesn't give off the most friendly vibe.

"Ah, hello. Yes, I have been practicing. Caine is.. really energetic. I don't think I've yelled this much in a long time." He said, tapping his fingers against the chair. "What about you?"

She laughed softly at his comment, clearly believing him. No wonder his voice was tired—Caine felt like the kind of character that demanded everything from you.

Still, he handled it so effortlessly that it was hard not to be impressed.

“I think you’re doing great,” she said, the sincerity in her tone unmistakable.

“I admit, Pomni is a bit of a stretch for me!” Her eyes smile but her eyebrows furl. “I’ve never played someone so broken and terrified. It’s new, but nothing I can’t handle!”

She posed with her arms at her sides, hands in tight fists like she’s prepared to fight.

Ryan couldn't help but chuckle at Christine's posing and emotion- who wouldn't? But that was the first time he had actually shown any kind of emotion.

"I think you'll do very well playing her. Your shaky voice from the audition was perfect for her, I believe." He told her.

He did find her acting very impressive. Especially with someone so broken and terrified.

"I think they're going to start showing us around soon. The script said.. Caine could fly? Which is not something I'm excited for," he muttered.

Christine grinned at his praise, warmth blooming in her chest before she could stop it.

Coming from him, it meant more than she expected. She rolled her shoulders, trying to play it off, though her confidence ticked up just a bit.

She tilted her head with playful curiosity. “So?” she teased, folding her arms. “Are you scared of heights, or just scared of trusting the wires to hold you?”

Ryan shrugged. "I'm not a huge fan of heights. I also don't trust anyone here to keep up with the wires. I've seen.. some accidents before."

He totally hadn't scared himself with the cables by looking up how people got hurt using them.

He picked up an energy drink from the table he had brought with him and took a drink from it.

Christine was halfway into forming a reply when a high-pitched voice called her name. She spun around to see Ava waving her over.

“Hey Chris! could you come help me with something?”

She glanced back at Ryan, catching the way he clung to his drink like a lifeline, and couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

“Guess I’ll see you in there,” she said warmly. For a moment longer than necessary, her eyes lingered on him before she turned to help Ava.

Ryan looked over at Ava before back at Christine, waving at her. "See you." He told her, watching as she walked off.

He.. couldn't help but feel a little sad that she left. He didn't know why. He'd see her later.

Eventually, he wandered off from his spot to look around at the set. Man. It really was a circus.

As they were shown around, he couldn't help but look for Christine- just briefly- before going back to look at the set. And those wires. Terrifying.

Then they were told to get dressed. Ryan emerged in this.. weird, itchy red suit and very tight fitting leggings. He did not like it at all. He looked around, sort of wanting to see Christine's jester outfit before anyone else.

Christine stepped out of the women’s dressing room with a twirl. The costume was heavier than she expected—the buttons pulling at the fabric, the slightly-too-small shoes pinching her toes.

She resisted the urge to fidget, instead lifting her chin and scanning the room. Her eyes found Ryan.

There was a brief pause—just long enough for her heart to trip over itself. She felt ridiculous and hyper-aware all at once, the pinwheel contacts making everything feel brighter, louder. Christine gave a tentative smile, lifting one gloved hand in a half-wave.

“…Okay, so,” she started, glancing down at herself before looking back at him, “On a scale from ‘circus performer’ to ‘I should run and never come back,’ how bad is it?”

Ryan looked over at her wave and walked over to her. When she asked how it was, he looked her up and down before giving a small snicker. "I thought mine was bad. You might have to run." He said, (smiling?) At her.

He then itched one of his arms. "I don't know if they put itching powder in here, but this suit is terribly itchy." He grumbled.

"I can't believe i have to wear this ridiculous thing on set. It's too tight." He grumbled, looking down at how much it showed his figure- which he did not like.

Her eyes betrayed her first, flicking over him before she could stop herself. The glossy boots, the tight leggings that caught the light, the way the suit hugged a waist far too small for shoulders that broad—she swallowed, heat creeping up her neck.

Oh. She definitely noticed. All of it. Way too much of it. When he joked, she let out a soft, breathy laugh that came out more flustered than she meant, hastily looking away as he scratched at the suit.

“That’s awful,” she said, sympathy genuine even as her gaze drifted back despite herself. He looked uncomfortable… but wow.

At his grumbling, she hesitated, fingers curling lightly at her side before she finally glanced up at him again.“I— um,” she started, then tried again, smiling shyly “That’s exactly what I imagined for Caine! You look amazing!”

Ryan noticed her staring- and the laugh. That was an.. odd reaction. Did he really look that bad?

Though when she changed her response, he crossed his arms. "I don't like how colorful it is. It's like.. blinding. And.." he paused.

He looked at everyone getting the scene ready. Someone hanging up those dreaded wires.

"Wait.. they're having me fly?!" He exclaimed. "Are you kidding me??"

He seemed more scared than anything. Definitely scared of flying. And of heights. And those scary looking wires. Such an irrational fear to have.

Her gaze followed his to the wires, then back to him—wide-eyed, concerned.

“Hey,” she said gently, stepping a little closer to Ryan. “Are you… okay?”

Christine glanced at the rigging again, clearly not thrilled either, then offered him a reassuring smile. “It does look scary.. But you don’t have to do it all at once, right? It’s just practice.”

Her voice lowered, meant just for him now. “You’ve got this. And you won’t be up there alone—they wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

She hesitated, then added, trying to hype him up; “Besides… if anyone can pull off flying in that suit, it’s you.”

Ryan looked at the wires before back at her when she asked him if he was okay, then tried to reassure him.

"I- I guess-" he grumbled, his calm demeanor completely broken with his fear of heights.

Of course, once he was strapped in, he hung onto the wires with absolute fear as they dragged him 20 feet in the air.

He looked back at the rest of the crew- especially Chris- as he flew around.

Christine’s heart dropped the second she saw the color drain from him.

“Ryan—” she started, instinctively stepping forward as the wires lifted him higher and higher, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Twenty feet. That was too high.

She didn’t think—she just moved.
“Hey!” she called to the crew handling the rig, eyes never leaving him as he clung to the wires. “Is there any way I can go up too? Just—just for practice. He’s scared, and I think it might help if he’s not alone.”

There was a brief pause, a couple of exchanged looks… then a nod. Someone shrugged. “Yeah. We can do that.”

Relief flooded her so fast it made her dizzy. Moments later, she was being strapped in herself. As the wires lifted her off the ground, she swallowed her nerves and focused on Ryan, letting herself be guided closer until she was hovering right in front of him. Face to face. Close enough to see the fear in his eyes.

“Hey,” she said softly, forcing a steady smile even as her own stomach flipped. “See? I’m right here.” She reached out, fingers gripping his arms where she could stabilize him. “You’re not doing this alone. Just breathe with me, okay? We’ve got this.”

Ryan watched Christine get lifted up in the wires as well. What was she doing?? When she got up to his height and grabbed his arms, he looked at her in absolute panic.

"Chris- what are you doing up here?? How in the world did you even get them to do this?" He muttered that last part before grabbing onto her hands and squeezing them.

This was way too high- this was way, way too high for him. His legs were pretty much shaking, he had completely forgotten the itching, and his face looked like it was just filled with fear. His top jaw had looked like they acted as eyebrows, and his bottom jaw was wide open.

"U-uhm- i-" he stuttered out, holding onto the wires with one hand.

She tightened her grip on his arms without hesitation, anchoring herself to him as much as she could.

“Hey, hey—look at me,” she said softly, voice steady even though her own pulse was racing. She shifted just enough to block out the ground below, forcing his focus back to her face. “You’re okay. I promise. You’re safe.”

She took a slow, exaggerated breath in, hoping he’d mirror it. “Deep breath in… just like this.”

Ryan looked at her, his legs and hands still shaking from fear. Avoiding the ground was a tiny bit helpful, but still he knew they were still too high up.

When she led him to take a deep breath, he did so, inhaling deeply, then exhaling. It helped just a bit more, but it definitely didn't stop his shaking completely.

“Good. That’s it.” She nodded encouragingly. “We’re not moving. Nothing’s happening right now. It’s just you and me up here.”

She offered him a small, reassuring smile again. “I’ve got you, Ryan. You’re not going anywhere.” She took a quick glance downward despite herself—and immediately regretted it. Ava and Alex were perched off to the side of the set, frozen in place, both of them staring up with identical looks of pure horror on their faces.

“Keep your eyes on ME.”

Alex looked up at the two high in the air before looking over at Ava. "I thought only Ryan's character was going to fly." They muttered.

Meanwhile, Ryan noticed Christine look down- he couldn't help himself, despite Christine's demand not to. Of course, when he did look down, he immediately let out a startled yell and looked right back up at Christine.

"Okay- okay, I want down now! Can- can I come down yet?" He called out to the crew, his shaking intensifying. If he was doing a scene where he could pretend he was actually flying, he'd definitely be a whole lot less scared.

Christine nodded immediately, relief washing over her when he said it. “Yeah—yeah, let us down,” she called to the crew, squeezing his arms once more. “We’re good. That’s enough for now.”

The wires began to lower them slowly, the tension easing bit by bit as the ground rose to meet them. The second her colored shoes touched the floor, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She quickly started unclipping herself, eyes flicking over to Ryan as he did the same—still shaken, but safe.

Once they were both free, she stepped closer, her expression soft but a little amused now that the worst was over. “Well,” she said lightly, tilting her head with a chuckle, “I guess we’ve officially confirmed that flying is not your hidden talent.”

Ryan quickly unclipped himself as fast as possible before moving away from where they were and over next to Christine. "Definitely not." He said quickly, before realizing how embarrassing he must look.

He cleared his throat and tried to regain composure. "Once I start acting, I think I'll handle it better.." he muttered out, rubbing the bottom of his jaw like one would rub the back of their neck.

Christine noticed the embarrassment written all over his face, and she immediately softened—careful not to make it worse.

She offered him an easy, understanding smile, like none of it had been a big deal. “Yeah, that makes sense,” she said casually, nodding along. “It’s always different once you’re actually in character. Practice is the worst part anyway.”

She didn’t stare, didn’t linger on his nerves—just stayed comfortably beside him. “And honestly? You handled it fine. I think once there’s a scene and lines to focus on, you’ll forget about the height.”

Then, a little quieter, “If you want, I can stick nearby when you try again.”

Ryan looked over at her before looking away, crossing his arms tightly. "You don't gotta stay next to me. Especially suspended 20 feet in the air. I need to get over it somehow." He told her.

I mean, he did. He got cast for this role, so he was going to play this role. He'd be scared later.

Now that fear wasn't taking over his brain, his body started to notice his itchy suit again, and he started to tug at it. "Ugh. I forgot about that."

Christine watched him cross his arms, heard the determination in his voice, and—even though the worry still lingered on her face—she nodded.

“Okay,” she said softly, like she trusted him completely. She stepped a little closer anyway, resting a hand on his shoulder in a quiet, grounding way. “Just… let me know if you need anything, alright? For real. No pressure.”

Ryan watched her step closer and put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't help his heart racing. Though, even so, he nodded. He was glad he made one friend here- even if all of the others avoided him.

He set his hand on hers, giving her a slight smile- though it was really just his bottom jaw lifting up slightly to mimic a smile in his eyes. "Of course." He said simply.

Her stomach flutters, unsure what she’s feeling, or what she should be feeling. One of the producers assistants swooped in to call Christine for a fitting.

She gave Ryan one last small wave before turning away, letting the assistant guide her down the hallway. The moment she was out of sight, the noise of the set softened, replaced by a quieter fitting room tucked away from the chaos.

The jester’s hat was… a lot. Bigger than she expected, structured with thin wires that forced it upright no matter how she moved. She held still as it was adjusted, heat creeping into her cheeks as she caught her reflection.

She looked ridiculous.

Still, it wasn’t uncomfortable—just strange. Christine let out a slow breath, smoothing her hands over her costume as the assistant finished up. Silly or not, this was part of it. Part of the role.

Ryan waved back at her and went to a nearby cube on set to sit on it. It was.. odd. It felt like he was actually part of the set. He had performed for things with sets, but nothing like this.

He looked down at his script with tired eyes before beginning to try and rehearse some of them. Just quietly going over lines, occasionally glancing up to look for Christine.

Christine finished her quick check-in with the director, fingers briefly adjusting the brim of the hat as she turned back toward the set. The moment she spotted Ryan perched on one of the set pieces, script in hand, something playful sparked in her expression.

She didn’t say a word. Instead, she exaggeratedly pointed at the hat, eyes widening as she pulled the goofiest, most over-the-top ‘what can you do?’ face she could manage.

She gave a helpless little shrug, shoulders lifting as if to say this is my life now.

Ryan looked over at Christine as she exaggerated at him about the hat. He couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head.

That looked.. absolutely ridiculous and fitting at the same time. She did make a good jester.

.

Later on at the dinner, he was finally out of that itchy suit and away from those wires. Though, that had made his stomach twist and turn. Plus, he still didn't want to eat in front of people. It was.. unsettling. So he just sat there without a plate.

Christine noticed it after a few minutes—the empty space in front of him where a plate should’ve been. At first she thought maybe he was just waiting, but as people around them started eating and talking, that unsettled feeling crept in.

She didn’t make a big deal out of it. Didn’t draw attention. Instead, she leaned just a little closer to him, lowering her voice so it stayed between them.

“Hey… you okay?” she asked, eyes locked on his. “I noticed you didn’t grab anything.”

Ryan looked over at Christine- then realized it probably did look bad that he wasn't eating anything, while everyone else was.

"Ah, I.. don't really like eating in front of people. It's.. very unpleasant to look at." He told her.

"Matter of fact.. I don't really eat a lot in general." He muttered a little to himself, not wanting to make Christine worried.

Christine didn’t want to make Ryan self-conscious. Nor did she want him to feel like he had to explain himself.

“Oh—okay,” she said lightly, offering him a small, understanding smile. “That makes sense.”

She shifted in her seat, deliberately changing the subject. “Honestly… today was kind of insane,” she added with a quiet laugh. “I mean, being that high up on the wires? I thought I was gonna hurl at least twice.”

She glanced over at him, a little more serious now, but still warm. “I was scared—and I know you were too. I just… wanted to help. Even if all I could do was hold you still and pretend I knew what I was doing.” Her tone stayed easy, letting the weight drift away. “I’m really sorry if I pushed you..”

Ryan watched her explain, and he shook his head. "It's okay. I.. appreciated it." He told her. "I.. well, I didn't think I was going to have to go on that the first day."

He hesitated before continuing. "And.. I don't want you to get in trouble trying to make me feel better. Really, I'll be okay." He reassured.

He would, once he actually got the hang of being up there, instead of just feeling like he was just going to dangle there forever or fall or something.

Christine listened carefully, softening her expression as he spoke. His reassurance settled her nerves, and she gave a small, understanding nod in response.

“Okay,” she said simply, her tone calm and sincere. “I’m glad.” She didn’t push, just offered him a brief, polite smile before rejoining the conversation with the others.

Ryan watched her rejoin the conversation with the others. He couldn't help but feel a little sad about it, but it was okay. He was just kinda there with everyone, since the cast insisted. Though, he felt like he didn't belong with anyone else.

I mean, that was the entire point of his character, was it not? That he was some kind of AI? He tapped his fingers against the table awkwardly. He hated feeling left out from the rest of the cast in every way possible.

Christine noticed Ryan go quiet again, fingers tapping against the table like he was trying to disappear into it. The sight tugged at her chest.

She hesitated only a second before leaning back into the group—but angling her attention unmistakably toward him.
“Can we talk about how amazing Ryan looks in the ringmaster costume?” she said, half-laughing, half-flustered. “I mean—extravagant, dramatic, totally over-the-top.” She glanced at him, her cheeks warming.

“It actually suits you way more than it has any right to.” She fiddled with her hands as she spoke, clearly trying not to reveal too much. “The coat, the posture—honestly, it’s really… impressive.” Her voice softened at the end, like she was realizing she’d said more than she meant to. Christine smiled at him, the kind of pause that left space for him to respond instead of putting him on the spot.

Ryan looked over at the mention of his name and.. honestly, he wanted to wince at the rest. Way to be subtle.

The rest of the cast stared at her, before Jackson finally spoke up. "Uhhh.. are you okay?" He asked, raising an eyebrow with his ears pinned back. Even listening to that whole thing made him feel embarrassed.

Christine felt the heat rush to her face the second the table went quiet.

Oh.

Oh no.

Ryan’s stare—unreadable, silent—made her soul briefly leave her body. She suddenly found the condensation on her water extremely interesting, gripping it like it might save her.

When Jackson finally spoke, she nearly jumped. Christine immediately took a big sip of water, nodding far too fast, eyes wide and a little wild as she swallowed. “Mmhm! Yep!” Her voice came out a bit too bright, the words tumbling over each other.

Her shoulders rose up toward her ears, still very much on fire. She refused to look back at Ryan, because if she did, she was pretty sure she’d combust on the spot.

Ryan stared at her for another minute before looking back down at the table, his eyes sort of.. unfocused, and his expression pretty blank (compared to what he had shown before). He didn't mean to be like that, he was just.. really deep into thought.

About Christine, about how she had worded that. It was.. odd to him.

Everyone else seemed to notice the tension, and the chatter started to pick up again, but it left Ryan feeling like more of an outsider than before, despite Christine's efforts- which he appreciated! But it kinda left him in the middle of everything.

Christine risked a glance in Ryan’s direction—just a quick one, meant to check if the moment had passed.

It hadn’t. Her eyes caught his.

That blank, distant expression hit her like a punch to the chest, and the embarrassment came flooding back all at once, hotter than before.

God, that was so stupid! Why had she said it like that? Out loud? In front of everyone? She hadn’t meant to single him out, hadn’t meant to dump all that attention on him like a spotlight he never asked for.

Her thoughts started racing. Did I make it weird? Did I embarrass him? Did I push too far? The more she replayed it, the worse it felt—like she’d somehow done the exact opposite of what she’d intended. Christine swallowed, fingers tightening around her water as the chatter around the table blurred into noise.

“I—uh—restroom,” she muttered to no one in particular, already half-rising from her seat. She slipped out of her seat quickly before her face could get any hotter, or her thoughts spiral any further.

Ryan quickly looked over at her as she dismissed herself to the restroom. He looked back down at the table, his upper jaw slightly pushed down to mimic an expression that had.. odd emotions behind it.

He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to even feel for Christine. Should he feel.. admiration? Should he feel something else? He didn't know.

He hadn't been.. in a lot of relationships. All of them were always ended by him. He didn't.. know why. He ended up heavily missing the person after. Was that.. wrong? Was he wrong?

He shook his head. They weren't in a relationship. What was he talking about? He felt like he was jumping to conclusions.

Even so, he couldn't help his fingers digging into the tablecloth as he tried to gather his thoughts.

In the restroom, Christine stood at the sink, cold water running steadily over her fingers. She stared at her reflection, watching the flush slowly fade from her cheeks as her breathing evened out.

Okay. Breathe. The embarrassment dulled from a sharp burn to something quieter, more manageable — though the fear of walking back out there still lingered in her chest. She dabbed her hands dry, smoothing her hair back into place.

You didn’t do anything unforgivable, she told herself. You just spoke without thinking. It happens. After a moment, she squared her shoulders and exited the restroom.

“Sorry,” she said lightly as she returned to the table, offering an apologetic smile to the group. “I’d.. spilled some sauce on my dress earlier and it was driving me insane.”

It was simple. Believable. Uninteresting enough that no one would push further. She slipped back into her seat, fingers wrapping around her water again. Careful not to look directly at Ryan yet, but close enough that she hadn’t disappeared.

Ryan didn't even notice that she had come back until way later. At that point, he was just ready to leave and.. probably have a mental breakdown at home. He didn't know. He was never good at his emotions.

When they were over with eating and talked to a little bit more about where else they were supposed to meet up at, finally everyone was leaving.

Ryan just shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking. His apartment wasn't too far from the set, so he just liked to walk it. Plus, it helped him stay fit.

He would've said something to Christine, but.. he didn't know. He was too used to not paying attention to his feeling that it sort of.. slipped his mind that he may want to talk to her, but he shoved that down.

As the group began to disperse, Christine made her rounds—offering a polite hug here, a quick handshake there. She smiled and wished everyone a good night before they headed off in their own directions. It was all routine, easy enough to slip into after a long day.

Her gaze flicked briefly toward Ryan. He was already walking away, hands hidden, pace quick and purposeful. For a split second, she considered calling out to him, to say her goodbyes. But something in her chest tightened and stopped her.

Not tonight.

She swallowed the impulse, turning instead to pull her phone from her purse. She calls an uber and stands patiently on the corner of the block.

The ride home passed in a blur of streetlights and passing thoughts. When she finally unlocked her apartment and stepped inside, she leaned back against the door for a moment, exhaling.

“What a weird day,” she murmured to herself.

Ryan got home around 20 minutes later, and immediately he sat on the floor of his living room and curled up- not even bothering to take his shoes off or undress or take a shower- and fell asleep. Just like that.

Maybe a good thing he didn't have anything to do tomorrow.

.

A couple days later, everyone was back on set, and getting ready for the pilot episode. Ryan was getting hooked up to the wires, his hands shaky, but other than that, he was pretty normal about it. Which was.. really odd, considering he was trembling the other day.

Christine was already on set when the crew started calling people to their marks. She wasn’t near the wires or the rigging—instead, she was tucked off to the side with Maggie, scripts open between them as they quietly rehearsed.

The abstraction scene wasn’t scheduled for a while yet, but Christine liked being early, liked running the lines until they felt less like words and more like instinct.

She gestured lightly as she spoke, testing pacing, adjusting emphasis. “I think if we slow it down here,” she murmured, tapping the page, “it feels more… unsettling. Like it’s thinking instead of reacting.” They ran the scene again, Maggie responding, the two of them slipping into that focused, in-between space where the rest of the set faded into background noise.

At some point, Christine glanced up—just briefly. She noticed Ryan across the room, being hooked up to the wires. His hands were shaking, but his face was strangely calm, almost distant. Not panicked like before. Just… quiet.

The sight gave her pause. That’s different, she thought, unease and curiosity twisting together in her chest. But she didn’t stare. Didn’t interrupt. Whatever was going on in his head, she doubted attention would help.

Christine lowered her gaze back to the script, refocusing. “Sorry—again,” she said to Maggie with a small smile. “One more time?” The day moved on, the set buzzing with controlled chaos, Christine grounded in rehearsal—aware of Ryan’s presence, but giving him space.

Ryan glanced briefly over at Christine before he was approached by a bubble-like morph. Who immediately detached his head. Ryan let out a startled sound, before the actor laughed and shook his hand to reassure him it was fine.

"So, I was kinda a last minute hire. I'm Mitch." He introduced himself. What a way to do so.

"Uh.. Ryan." He muttered, glancing away for a second before grabbing the hat off his head. "The script said.. you were supposed to pop out of my hat??" He asked- and Mitch immediately shoved his head inside. "There we go." He said, his body starting to walk away.

Ryan just stared at Mitch in his hat.. before shaking his head and putting his hat back on the top of his gums where it belonged. "Whatever.." he muttered.

Christine was just finishing the last run-through with Maggie when the shift in the set caught her attention.

The rehearsal was interrupted by lights dimming, voices shouting. She glanced up in time to see crew members moving with more urgency, hands checking harnesses, voices calling out quiet instructions.

They were getting ready to lift Ryan.

Her stomach tightened. “Hey—sorry, I’ll be right back,” she murmured to Maggie, already stepping away before she could answer. She kept her pace brisk but controlled, weaving carefully through equipment and cables until she was as close as she was allowed to be without getting in the way.

She didn’t call out to him. Didn’t want to distract him. Instead, she stopped just off to the side, arms folded loosely in front of her as if that might steady her. Her eyes stayed on Ryan.

Just in case, she told herself. Just in case he needed to see a familiar face. Just in case something went wrong.

When Ryan was being lifted, his legs almost immediately folded to be close to himself. It was clear he was anxious about being lifted- his hands were trembling terribly.

He kept his cane close to himself as he was lifted to that exact same spot.

He didn't realize this, but the anxiety made his iris and pupils completely different sizes in each eye. Something that the camera crew noticed, but decided not to fix, since it gave 'Caine' a creepy look.

They gave him a second to adjust- meanwhile he looked down at everyone. Especially Christine- who made his heart hurt.

Christine barely blinked as they lifted him. Her attention tracked every movement—the way he crimped his legs, how tightly he held the cane, the strange way his eyes looked especially. Woah, that’s kind of cool, she thought to herself.

She couldn’t hide her worry. The higher he went, the tighter her chest felt, like she was being pulled up with him. She didn’t move closer. Didn’t speak. She knew better than to distract him now.

But when his gaze swept the set—and finally landed on her—she reacted without thinking. Slowly, Christine lifted her arms as she drew in a deep breath, exaggerating the motion just enough to be visible through the bright lights of the stage.

In… She held it for a beat, eyes steady on his.Then she lowered her arms, letting them fall as she released the breath, shoulders softening.

Out… Again, slower this time.

Her expression stayed gentle, encouraging, silently saying you’re not alone. She stayed right there in his line of sight, breathing with him, hoping—quietly—that it helped, even just a little.

Ryan noticed her breathing, and tried to do the same, closing his jaw to try and focus on breathing. "Come on Ryan, you can do it. It's just floating. You're harnessed, you're okay. You're fine."

He calmed down a bit by doing that, keeping his jaw closed until they finally called action.

"Welcome.. to The Amazing Digital Circus!" He yelled with an ecstatic tone- completely opposite of his nervous one from before. As they whipped him around in the cameras, he tried to maintain composure.

"My name is Caine! I'm your ringmaster, and I'm here to show you the most jaw dropping-" Just as Ryan said that, he dropped his lower jaw to well below his body. Which.. actually hurt a lot.

"-heart stopping, MIND bending paraphernalia you've ever laid your eyes upon! Isn't that right Bubble?"

He grabbed his hat and pulled it off his head- and out came Mitch's head. "That's right Caine! I can't wait to see what you've got cookin up for today!"

Ryan almost let out a yell as they quickly decended towards the stage. Oh he did not like flying backwards. It made his stomach feel weird.

"Well let's not waste any time. Let's get right into the show!"

Finally everything was cut, and Ryan was free to go back to his terrified looking self, clutching his stomach like he wanted to throw up- because he kind of did.

The second they called cut, Christine was already moving. She weaved through cables and crew with quick, careful steps, heart racing as she kept her eyes locked on Ryan.

In her hurry, she nearly collided with Mitch’s body just as his head rolled past. “Oh—sorry—excuse me,” she blurted, barely slowing before darting around him.

Ryan was still suspended when she reached him, hands clutched tight to his stomach, color visibly drained from his face. He wasn’t being unclipped yet—she knew better than to ask why. Another take. Of course.

“Hey,” she said softly, close enough now that he could hear her over the hum of the set.
She lifted her gloved hand all the way up, standing on her tip-toes with a water bottle in hand for him. “Here—just a sip. If you want.” She didn’t force it, just offered, steady and patient.

Ryan looked over at Christine as she held out a water bottle to him- even standing on her toes to try and hand it to him. He moved himself to lean down and grabbed it from her, opening it and taking a small sip. He didn't feel much better after that. He still felt like he was going to throw up on stage right now.

Well, the show must go on, he guessed. He tossed the water bottle back down to Christine. "Um.. thanks.." he muttered out, rubbing the bottom of his jaw.

Speaking of his jaw, it still hurt quite a lot. That whole stunt was not good for his non existent sockets. He then looked over at Mitch's head rolling on the stage. He quickly pointed at him. "Uh.. can you throw me.. that?" He asked Christine.

The second she realized he meant Mitch’s head, the tension snapped clean in half. She let out a sudden, uncontrollable laugh, the kind that burst out before she could stop it. “Oh my god,” she cackled, shaking her head as she bent down to pick it up. “I cannot believe this is part of the show.”

The head was… way lighter than she expected. That just made it funnier “Alright….heads up,” she warned, still grinning as she stepped back a bit and gauged the distance. She squinted one eye, lining it up with exaggerated seriousness.

Then she tossed it straight up.

Ryan couldn't help but chuckle a little at her joke and her mock aim. Though when she threw Mitch, he realized how BADLY she aimed. He used where he was hanging, basically launching himself upwards to catch Mitch. Luckily, he did catch him- but it just made him all the more nauseous about how much he had moved.

He then stuffed him right back into his hat. "Thank you." He told her, setting the hat back on his head and groaning slightly at his increased nausea. Though, before he could recover, he was brought right back up for take 2.

Christine barely hesitated once they finally unhooked him. The second his feet were solid on the ground, she was there—already holding the trash can up for him, bracing it steady as he bent forward.

She didn’t flinch when he got sick. One hand stayed firm on the rim of the can, the other hovering near his back in case he needed it.

“It’s okay,” she hummed instinctively, voice low and comforting. “I’ve got it.”

When it passed and the crew called the break, she stayed close, letting him take the time he needed. Once things settled, she crouched down beside him and eased herself onto the floor, close enough to be present without crowding.

She tilted her head, studying him with quiet relief. “Hey,” she said softly, a small blush blooming at her cheeks. “Looks like your color’s back.” She rested her forearms on her knees, keeping her tone light so he didn’t feel worse than he already did. “That was… a lot. But you did really well.” she said calmly.

Ryan felt embarrassed getting sick in front of Christine. Getting sick in front of everyone in the cast. It was humiliating for him. Luckily, everyone kinda went about their business, not paying him much mind- aside from Christine. Which was even more embarrassing. When Christine finally spoke, he rubbed his hand against his bottom jaw. "Thanks.." he muttered.

Between him dislocating his jaw three times and him throwing up, this first rehearsal turned out to be a mess- even if it wasn't over yet.

"I.. I'm not a mess, am I?" He asked, looking over at Christine. "I should probably clean up now before the next part starts.

Christine’s brows furled immediately at his question. “No!—no, you’re not a mess,” she said, earnest and a little firm, like she needed him to hear it. Before he could talk down on himself any further, she was already digging into her bag. “Hold on,” she added softly.

She pulled out a small disposable damp cloth—the kind she used to fix makeup between takes—and handed it to him. “Here. Just to freshen up a bit.” Then, almost automatically, she took another one for herself and leaned in just enough to gently blot at a few spots on his costume where it had splashed. The fabric didn’t absorb much—thankfully—but as her gloved hand brushed the front of his chest, she froze for half a heartbeat.

Oh.

She hadn’t been prepared for how firm it was. Broad. Solid under the padding and fabric. Her face went instantly bright red. Christine finished up far too quickly, clearly flustered now.

“—okay, that’s good,” she said a little too fast, pulling her hand back. She straightened abruptly, eyes refusing to meet his. “I—uh—I need my script,” she added, gesturing vaguely across the room. “I left it… over there.”

Without waiting, she stood and hurried off, clutching the cloth and her dignity, absolutely burning as she made a beeline for the other side of the set—

—before immediately tripping over a camera cable and face planting the hardwood.

Ryan watched her dab at places on his suit. Then her hand lingered on his chest. He stared down at her hand before she had pulled it away and practically scurried off.

Until she faceplanted into the stage. He chuckled a little and got up. "You okay, Christine? You need a makeup wipe?" He called out to her.

Honestly, that whole thing was funny- even though he was already stepping towards her to make sure she was okay.

Though, her hand felt like it was still there, on his chest, feeling him. He couldn't help but want that contact again..

Christine groaned softly, then lifted her head—her eyes doing an exaggerated, cartoonish spinny-dizzy swirl as if little stars were about to pop out of them. She blinked twice, then popped straight up to her feet a little too fast.

She spun to face him and snapped finger guns in his direction with way too much confidence. “Yep!! All good!” she declared, voice an octave higher than usual. Without waiting for a response, she immediately started walking backwards toward where she’d left her script, nodding emphatically as if to convince both of them.

“Totally fine. The floor and I just… had a moment…” She knew that was a terrible joke but she was too flustered to care. Christine had just managed to get her breathing back under control when Ava waved her over.

The second Ava leaned in, voice barely above a whisper, Christine already knew she was doomed. “So… you and Ryan??? Christine’s breath hitched instantly.

“What—no—!” she whispered back a little too fast, eyes going wide. She shook her head hard enough that the balls on her hat swished.

“No, absolutely not, I mean—he just got sick, I was helping, that’s literally it.” She laughed, but it came out strained, almost squeaky. One hand flew up to gesture vaguely between the stage and the makeup table.

“I do that for everyone. I’m just… prepared. Like a Girl Scout. Emotionally. With wipes.” Her face was burning now, heat crawling all the way up her neck. She avoided Ava’s eyes, suddenly very interested in straightening the pages of her script. “There is nothing going on. Nothing. He’s just—Ryan is just Ryan.”

Ryan stared at where Christine had ran off, SUPER confused. Well.. not totally confused. He knew why she was freaking out. He kinda was too.

"Uh.. okay.." he said, going to the bathroom so he could clean himself up. After he was done with that, and he had gotten that disgusting film off his teeth, he went back on stage, ready to be carried up again.

When he was lifted up, the new scene started, and Ryan kept in character for the whole thing.

"I'd like to give our new friend a tour of the circus grounds first." He told her.

He basically had to lift her up (which wasn't hard for him at ALL), and set her on a nearby cube.

The contact almost made his face redden.

"This is THE TENT!"

Christine launches into motion the second the scene starts, more than eager to finally begin. She jumps into action, performing her parts flawlessly, eager to see everyone on set playing their respective parts.

Their natural chemistry altogether calms her nerves, despite the conflict between the tv characters, Christine really enjoyed her part as this nervous jester. As the set swaps around and the cube is dragged in, the set producer loudly announces “CUT!” and they all freeze momentarily.

Their request to have Caine LIFT the colorful stranger makes Christine’s stomach drop. She barely has time to react before Ryan—Caine—is already moving, gloved hand firmly scooping her up to place her on the cube. The contact is grounding and terrifying all at once. His grip is steady, reassuring in a way her nerves desperately cling to… which only makes her more aware of it.

“Uhhh!!” slips out of her mouth again, breathy and very real. The green screen shifts, lights changing to mimic the outside of the circus tent, and suddenly the illusion of height hits her hard.

Christine’s free hand curls instinctively near her chest, fingers trembling beneath the fabric of her glove. Her palms are slick with sweat now, and she swallows, attempting to remain in character despite the nerves.

Ryan caught Christine's reaction almost immediately- and it made him want to keep touching her. But that was weird. Plus, they were already rolling before anything else could happen.

"This is where your living quarters are, as well as all sorts of other activities! These activities may include-"

He cut off, just when the script said. He had read something about dial up noise- but he wasn't THAT innate with his own body.

Though after about 5 seconds, he continued speaking like normal.

"-ball pits, mini-golf, and more!"

He then reached out to set a hand on her back, and.. he couldn't help but let it linger there just a split second longer, before continuing.

"And here we have THE GROUNDS!"

Christine then remembered she must maintain character as he spouts his lines. She lifted her hands halfway, palms open in a helpless little shrug, then let them fall again as if thinking better of it. Her shoulders hunched slightly, posture folding inward in that nervous-jester way, knees knocking together just a bit as she shuffled her weight from one foot to the other.

Christine jolts a little when Ryan’s hand touches her back. It’s subtle, but her body reacts instantly. Her shoulders tense, spine straightening like someone pulled a string up her back. The fine hairs along her arms and neck prickle beneath the costume, and she sucks in a quick breath she definitely wasn’t planning on taking. Her gloved fingers curl reflexively at her sides, fabric creasing as her grip tightens.

Her eyes do that exaggerated, crumpling cartoon expression on cue—pupils shrinking, lids twitching like her brain is desperately trying to catch up with what she’s seeing.

Ryan sees all of the tense body language Christine has, and he feels.. terrible. He had been enjoying getting to make more contact with her- but to him, it seemed like she wasn't really pleased with it.

He tries to brush it off and continues on. "Drown yourself in the digital lake, or engage in ridery at the digital carnival!" He exclaimed, suddenly getting yanked up.

"Night, day, it's all okay. The choice is yours, a cosmic buffet!" He said, falling back down to where Christine was.

Christine delivered the line softly:—“Is… that all there is?..”

Her voice wobbled just enough to sell the jester’s uncertainty, but beneath the character, her thoughts are spiraling.

*He noticed.* That’s the first thing that hit her.

She could feel the difference immediately—how Ryan’s energy shifted, how his body pulled back just a fraction after her reaction. It twists something uncomfortable in her chest.

She hadn’t meant to recoil. She hadn’t meant to make him think she didn’t want the contact. If anything, it was the opposite—and that’s exactly what scared her. Great. You freaked him out, she thought, heat crawling up her neck beneath the costume. So she makes a choice.

Still in character, she let her shoulders sag further, exaggerating the jester’s smallness. She took a hesitant half-step closer to him, just enough to close the gap again.

Ryan noticed her stepping closer to him, and he looks a little surprised for a second. She.. didn't want him near, or she did? He was.. confused to say the least.

In any case! He tries to return to his lines.

"Of course not!" He exclaimed. This time, he very LIGHTLY touches her. Nothing like the touch from before. "This is THE VOID! We.. don't venture out into the void." He said, before leaning close- as the script says, of course. "Not even I know what's out there.."

When the script cues them to lean in, Christine didn’t back down. She committed —stepping just that half-inch closer so their space nearly disappeared. Her smirk ghosted across her lips for a fraction of a second before she schools it into wide, frightened eyes, brows way up as if she’s staring straight into the unknown. Her gaze flicked between his eyes, lingering a beat too long to be strictly professional, and her breath catches—soft and intentional. The fear in her posture is real, but it’s tangled with something more. Wanting him closer.

She tilted her head slightly, voice coming out small and tremulous, perfectly in character.

“That’s—…”

Ryan's gaze falters a bit and he stares at her for what seems like a whole minute- but was actually probably half a second- before the camera pans back to 'the grounds'.

"We stay right here. Where i can keep my ***hundreds of all seeing eyes on youuuu!***" He said, waving his fingers in front of Christine's face.

He stays silent for a minute. They still haven't found an actor for the sun or moon yet, so there's silence for a few seconds before Ryan continues his lines. "AAH! Let's get out of here before the moon gets frisky!" He shouted, putting his hands on Christine's back and pretending to lead her away.

Christine jumps the second his hands touched her back, letting out a sharp little gasp as she stumbled forward half a step—completely selling the bit for the camera. But despite the dramatics, she doesn’t actually pull away. Instead, she eased into the pressure of his hands, letting him guide her exactly where he needed her to go. Her movements fell into sync with his, steps light and cooperative, like she trusted him to steer.

They hear a bell and a “CUUUT!!”

As soon as Ryan hears the bell, he lets go of Christine's back, making sure she didn't fall when he let go. He groaned and eased his body to hang in the harness, tired and nauseated. He hated this stupid wiring, he hated flying, he hated all of this except for acting. And well, of course, being close to Christine.

"You sell the part well." He told her, trying to get his mind off the lingering nausea in his stomach.

The second his hands left her, Christine’s breath caught. For half a heartbeat, it’s like the world dropped out from under her. The cube suddenly felt impossibly small, the distance to the ground way too real. Her foot shifted instinctively, scraping against the edge, and panic flooded her face before she can mask it.

“Ryan—” She didn’t even finish the thought. Her arms shot back toward him, fingers spread wide, eyes huge and glassy as fear overrides everything else. For a terrifying second, she looked like she genuinely forgot they were acting.

“Please—” she blurted, voice thin and urgent, not part of any script. “Don’t—don’t let go like that.”

Ryan looked over at her as she grabbed onto him, and his body immediately tensed in the harness, grabbing onto her. "Sorry- I'm sorry." He said quickly. It kind of.. broke his heart how scared she seemed. But he didn't let go until the cube she was on was all the way lowered to the ground next to him. "There." He said, guiding her off of the cube by holding onto her hand. "You okay? I.. I didn't mean to let go so suddenly."

Christine barely registered his words until the moment her feet hit solid ground. Her knees nearly buckled, and she stayed there for a while just, staring down at the floor.

Her breathing was shallow and fast, fingers curling tightly into her palms as she tried to steady herself. Then she looked back up at him. Her eyes were wide, still glassy with fear, chest rising and falling as she panted—those same pleading eyes flicking over his shiny teeth.

“Y-Yes..Thank you,” she managed, the words breathless but sincere. She didn’t trust herself to speak anymore, on account of what happened last time she opened her big mouth.

Ryan watched her step off, still appearing terrified. As soon as he was let down, he walked to Christine's side and set a hand on her shoulder.

"You can tell me. I.. I don't.. I didn't mean to upset you like that." He felt a little embarrassed, trying to pry while everyone was staring at them. The thought almost made him shrink. But it was almost immediately replaced with worry for Christine.

Christine froze when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She let herself lean just a little into his touch, like her body decided before her brain could argue. “I wasn’t mad at you,” she said, voice still uneven. “I was frustrated with the crew’s lack of technical support.” Then she finally tilted her chin up, just enough to meet his eyes. There was still fear there—but softer now, tangled with a vulnerable hue.

You—” she swallowed. “You didn’t let me fall. Even when you were scared too.” Her thumb rubbed at the tips of her gloves before she gave a weak, almost embarrassed smile. “Thank you.” she repeats, this time to his face.

Ryan couldn't help but smile a little at Christine's thanks. It.. meant a lot to him that she noticed. He always wanted to think of his coworkers first. Especially Christine. That thought made him pause for a second before he slowly let go of her shoulder and let his hand fall to his side.

Now that he wasn't up in the air anymore, his pupils were back to normal size- despite his ongoing nausea. He groaned a little, rubbing his head. "I need an energy drink." He said, trotting off to go rummage around his bag for one of the spare monsters he kept in there.

Christine watched his hand fall away, and for just a moment she almost missed the warmth of it. She gave him a shaky smile. “Yeah,” she said lightly, picking up her water bottle from the edge of the set wall. “That sounds… very on brand for you.” She didn’t stop him when he trotted off, but as she turned toward the water station, she glanced back over her shoulder.

.

By the time filming ended, Ryan was pretty sure he had dry heaved more times than he could count. But that was besides the point.

Finally, they were free. Ryan was almost immediately out of that itchy suit and getting ready to leave, with his half finished energy drink in hand.

But.. something made him stop. He.. had to say goodbye to Christine, didn't he? Or.. maybe she didn't want to say goodbye. They worked together, but what if she didn't feel the same way about him?..

What was he thinking? Feel the same way as what? They were just coworkers! Nothing more! Nothing had happened between the two! He shook his head and started hesitantly walking towards the exit.

Just as she was grabbing her purse, she saw that same fleeting glimpse of pearly teeth attempting to make his great escape. She reached out quickly, and there was a light tug at the back of his shirt—small, familiar fingers catching the fabric of his collar.

“No sir,” Christine’s voice carried right behind him, determination in her eyes. She looked far less shaken now—tired, yes, but calmer. More comfortable. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, a hint of amusement slipping into her tone. “You can’t just leave.” She released his shirt and stepped in front of him, blocking his path with an almost shy confidence.

“Not without telling me goodbye.” There was a beat—just long enough to let the moment breathe—before she lifted her arms.

Ryan looked back at Christine as she pulled his shirt, then stepped in front of him. Well, that was pretty surprising to him. That someone would actually want to hug him. He tilted his head before giving a soft chuckle. "Alright." He told her before stepping close and wrapping his arms around her.

He couldn't help but lean the bottom of his jaw against Christine's shoulder. He knew that his breathing right next to her ear was probably unpleasant- hell, hugging him was probably unpleasant. He had gotten it before. So he was very tense the whole time.

Christine relaxed into him the moment his arms came around her. Instead of pulling back—or stiffening—she let out a slow, content breath, resting her cheek lightly against his jaws as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She noticed the tension in him almost immediately: the way his arms held her carefully, like he was afraid of doing something wrong, the way his body stayed rigid instead of settling. So she made a choice. Her arms tightened around him—just a little, but enough to be intentional. One hand pressed warmly between his shoulder blades, the other steady at his side, holding him like she had nowhere else she needed to be.

Ryan noticed Christine's grip tightening just a bit. He looked over at her before back ahead, wanting to just zone it out. But he couldn't.

She wanted to hug him. She trusted him enough to put his face on the side of his lower jaw. The feeling was.. odd. No one ever cared to make contact with him because they were so scared.

He looked down at the ground before fully closing his jaws and tightening his arms just as much as she did. He.. really enjoyed this.. a lot.

She didn’t pull away. Didn’t even shift to check on him. Instead, she stayed exactly where she was, steady and patient, as if she had all the time in the world—and meant to give it to him.

Christine could feel how much thought was tangled up inside him, how carefully he’d learned to hold himself. So she softened everything around that tension. Her grip stayed firm but affectionate. She brushed her cheek against his teeth—slow, warm. Not a kiss. Just warm contact.

One of her hands moved just slightly, resting more securely against his back, anchoring him. “It’s okay,” she murmured quietly, not pressing him to respond. She stayed like that, letting every ounce of care she felt flow into the hug—until he decided when it ended.

When Christine muttered that, he felt his gums heat up. God, he.. he couldn't help but like being talked to like that. Being told it was okay, being reassured.. he hadn't been reassured in so long. He stayed like that for just a little bit longer before finally pulling away with a heavy sigh. "Thanks. For everything today. I might be a lot to handle.." he muttered.

He still felt bad that Christine had to deal with him all day. Him throwing up, the cube, all sorts of other things during the set. He wasn't usually this hard to work with..

“No,” she said immediately, a little firmer than she meant to be. “You’re not hard to handle. At all.”

She looked up at him, earnest and kind, like the thought hadn’t even needed time to form. “You were sick, you were scared, and you still showed up and did your job. That’s not being ‘a lot.’” Then— the words slipped out before she could stop them.

“…Honestly,” she added, softer, “I kind of enjoy handling you.” The second the sentence fully landed in the air between them, her eyes widened.

“Oh— I—” Her face heated instantly. She brought both hands up, hiding her expression as she groaned under her breath. Oh my god, Chris. That is not what you were supposed to say. Despite the embarrassment, she didn’t move away. Still very much there—like some part of her hoped he’d understand what she meant, even if the wording had betrayed her.

Ryan stared at her as she spoke. Her words were.. extremely reassuring. Even so, he still felt like he was a lot.

When he saw Christine cover her face from embarrassment, he couldn't help but smile at her- despite the earlier moment.

"That's okay. I enjoy working with you. A lot." He told her, his upper jaw moved to give a soft expression towards her.

He hesitated for a second like he was going to ask something, before shaking his head and smiling at her. "I'll.. see you tomorrow." He told her, starting to walk past.

Christine’s hands slowly lowered from her face as his words sank in.

Her heart did that soft, aching flutter—the kind that made everything feel both brighter and heavier at the same time. She watched him hesitate, watched the question almost form and then disappear, and the smile he gave her felt like it lingered even after he started to pass by.

For a moment, she just stood there, caught between happiness and that quiet, wistful pull of what if. She wondered what he was about to say. And whether tomorrow would feel too far away.

“Good night, Ryan.”

She exclaimed as he walked away. She smiled fully now that she was alone—soft, sincerely, a little in love, even if she didn’t dare name it yet.

Ryan looked back at her for just a second- enough to say it back. "Good night Christine." He then started on his way back to his apartment, his shoulders less hunched than before, but his eyes certainly lost in thought.

.

The next month, they had done a lot more shootings, but the pilot was released. And people loved it.

Producers were extremely happy with everybody's work, so they decided to organize a get together with everybody for some kind of beach day. Ryan didn't now how to feel about it. He never really 'showed himself off' in front of people, but this wasn't really the day to care about that. After much consideration, he drove himself up to the beach and waited for the rest of the crew- since he had shown up pretty early to try and relax.

He just had regular swim shorts and sunglasses that sat on his lower jaw. Rather uncomfortable, but his eyeballs didn't keep out sunlight that well. Neither could he blink, so he had to have them.

Christine let out a slow, relaxed breath as she settled deeper into the blanket beneath the wide beach umbrella, the shade cool against her sun-warmed skin.

The distant sound of waves and laughter blurred together, and for a moment, she just chilled out. Weeks of long days, awkward moments, retakes, and quiet encouragements had led to this. The pilot. The reactions. The praise. She couldn’t help the small, proud smile that formed on her face.

Beside her, Ava shifted slightly, the two of them sharing the easy silence of people who’d grown to be good friends. Christine’s navy-and-white striped bikini peeked out beneath the mesh sundress as she adjusted the rolled towel under her head, one arm tucked loosely behind it.

“Can you believe we pulled it off?” she murmured, half to Ava, half to herself. “All that chaos—and people actually loved it.”
Her eyes fluttered closed for a second, the exhaustion finally catching up with her now that there was nothing left to prove today. Just rest. Just the quiet pride of work well done. Somewhere beyond the games and the hum of the beach, part of her wondered who else might have shown up early— but for now, Christine let herself drift, relaxed and genuinely happy.

Ryan looked over at Christine and Ava before looking down. He wanted to interact with Christine more.. especially since she had been so nice and patient and.. just overall a good person. He really did enjoy her company.

He hummed a little before grabbing his beach bag and rummaging through it. He then went to the water and knelt down to do something. He was pretty much chuckling to himself the entire time.

He then turned around, staying in the water, but pointed a water gun over at Ava and Christine, spraying them with the water he had put in it. "Aha! Gotcha!" He shouted.

Christine startled so hard she yelped, the sound cutting straight through the calm beach air.

“—RYAN—!”

She shot upright under the umbrella, hands flying up instinctively as the cool spray hit her arms and shoulders. For half a second she was genuinely alarmed, eyes wide—then the surprise melted into bright, uncontrollable laughter.

Ava reacted faster, snapping her book up like a shield with an indignant gasp. “Hey! Absolutely not—” she protested, ducking behind it as droplets splashed harmlessly against the cover.

Christine, still giggling, scrambled backward and ended up rolling right off the blanket, the mesh cover slipping away as she landed in the sand. She popped back up almost immediately, brushing sand from her palms, her bikini now fully exposed as she stood, half-crouched and on guard like she was bracing for another attack.

“Oh my god—you scared me!” she laughed, pointing toward him accusingly but without a shred of anger.

Ryan laughed at them trying to guard themselves. He couldn't help but stare for a second before lifting his gun back up and pointing it at Christine.

"There are more water guns in my bag if you wanna get them. Better hurry up though!" He said, giving her only a few seconds before starting to shoot her with water again.

He couldn't help but keep his eyes on Christine. Now that her mesh dress was off, he could see her figure. He could see it before in her jester costume, since it was so tight fitting, but something about seeing almost everything about her really-

He shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking of her like that. He was so distracted, he didn't realize he ran out of water. He gasped and quickly knelt down to fill it back up, leaving him open.

Christine’s eyes lit up the second she realized he was distracted. “Oh—no you don’t,” she laughed breathlessly. She took off across the burning sand, bare feet kicking up grains as she sprinted for Ryan’s bag. Ava cheered from behind her book shield as Christine skidded to a stop, grabbing the biggest water gun she could find.

But she wasn’t done yet. She darted back to her cooler, popped it open, and snatched out a water bottle so cold it was slick with condensation. “You asked for this,” she muttered playfully, still giggling as she twisted the cap off and dumped the icy water straight into the gun’s chamber.

The second Ryan finished refilling his own, Christine spun around..—click—splash! A freezing stream of water hit him square in the chest.

“Yes!” she squealed, tongue stuck out in intense concentration as she kept firing, shoulders shaking with laughter. “That’s what you get!”

Ryan watched as Christine got out ice cold water from her cooler and shoot it at him. He yelled out and tried to guard himself from the freezing cold. "Hey!! No fair!" He shouted playfully, trying to block himself while also shooting back at her.

The water felt SO cold on him, so he decided to try and duck under the water, but the salty water in his mouth reminded him that his eyeballs probably wouldn't appreciate being dunked in saltwater. He quickly stood up, already shivering from the cold.

Christine burst out laughing when she saw him dip into the water and pop right back up, her shoulders shaking as she kept the water gun trained on him.

“Oh come on—” she called out between giggles, firing another icy spray his way. “What was that? Are you surrendering already, or can you just not handle the cold?” She leaned forward a little, clearly enjoying his dramatic shivering far too much. “I thought you started this!!,” she added teasingly, continuing to shoot until the stream suddenly sputtered… then stopped.

“…Oh. Uh-oh.”

Christine looked down at the empty water gun, then back up at Ryan with an exaggerated, innocent smile before slowly spun back to the cooler to find more water.

Ryan's jaw widened when he realized she was out of water. He gasped and went to refill his own gun, before he got a brilliant idea. He scurried out of the water and over to Christine before tackling her to the ground, pressing his freezing cold hands on her.

"Ha! Feel the cold!" He smiled down at her. He wished he had a cold water bottle of his own so he could get revenge on her, but he figured his freezing cold hands from guarding himself was enough. Though, getting out of the already cold ocean and pressing his cold body on her made him.. almost pause. She was.. so warm. It felt really nice..

Christine barely had time to gasp before the world tilted.

“—RYAN—!”

Her eyes went wide as he suddenly barreled into her, the sand puffing up around them as she hit the ground with a soft thud. The shock of it knocked the laughter right out of her for half a second—until she became very aware of just how cold he was.

“Oh—oh my—that’s cold!” she squeaked, hands flying up on instinct as his freezing hands pressed against her arms and sides. The contrast made her shiver hard, a startled laugh spilling out of her despite herself. She tried to squirm away, but with him pinned over her, there wasn’t much she could do except laugh and flail. Heat rushed to her face, her cheeks burning red as she suddenly realized how close he was— VERY close.

Close enough to examine and appreciate every chiseled detail in his chest. Ryan’s skin was slightly transparent, but otherwise almost solid black. The gleam of the blaring sunlight further exaggerated each toned muscle. With his cold body hovering over hers, she couldn’t help but stare.

“I—this is cheating,” she protested breathlessly, half-laughing, half-panicking, eyes darting back his face before flicking back down.

Her laughter softened into nervous giggles, her heart absolutely racing now for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold. After staring for what felt like forever, a camera shutter could be heard a few feet behind them.

Ryan chuckled a little before he heard the shutter of a camera behind him. He slowly turned to look over at whoever took the picture, only to see Ava standing there.

Oh if only he still had water in his water gun.

He glanced back at Christine before standing up and holding his hands out to Ava, threatening her. "You wanna be cold too?" He asked with a smile still on his face.

Though with how warm Christine had been from laying in the sun, he hightly doubted his hands were still cold enough to be as threatening as before.

“Hey—hey—okay!” Ava said quickly, shoving her phone into her pocket like it had never happened and throwing both ribboned hands up in surrender.

“No evidence, no evidence. I don’t want any trouble.” She backed up a step in the sand, grinning but clearly defensive. “I was just… documenting your blossoming love!!,” she added, voice squeaky, eyes flicking between the two of them. “Extremely necessary, we’re making history.” she smirked in a mocking tone.

Christine, meanwhile, didn’t move at all. She was still flat on her back in the warm sand where Ryan had left her, heart pounding so hard she was sure someone could hear it.

Her eyes squeezed shut, lashes fluttering as she tried to ground herself, cheeks flushed a deep, unmistakable red. She could still feel his weight, the contrast of his cold against her warmth, the closeness—

—and her body hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that he’d gotten up.

Her fingers curled slightly in the sand, breath shallow and nervous. Completely overwhelmed. It took her a second longer than it should have to even process the world around her again.

Ryan chuckled a little. "I have no idea what that means, but okay." He said, closing his jaws enough to look like he was squinting at her. Though, he had noticed how quiet Christine had gotten.

He turned around to look at her, and saw how hard she was trying to process everything. Had he done something wrong? If so, why didn't she tell him to stop? Was she okay?

He glanced back over at Ava before walking to Christine's side and holding his hand out for her to grab. "Hey.. you alright? Sorry if i.. um.. overstepped." He said. He wasn't sure what he did, but whatever it was, Christine wasn't as energetic as before. He felt awful.

Christine’s eyes snapped open the moment she registered the worry in his voice. An evil grin crept up her face.

“C’mere you—” She moved as quickly as she could. As Ryan stepped closer, she shot upright and reached out, fingers wrapping around his ankle. With a surprised little laugh of effort, she tugged—just enough to pull him off balance so he dropped back down into the sand near her.

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, giggling loudly again, cheeks still flushed. “I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She kept hold of him for a second longer. Her laughter returned, softer but genuine, eyes bright as she looked up at him. She leaned in to whisper,

“Let’s team up on them—” as she points to the rest of the cast now arriving to the beach.

Ryan yelled out as his ankle was swept out from under him. He landed on the sand with a groan. He chuckled a little and stayed down next to her.. of course, until she pointed out the other cast members.

He sat up and looked over at them before grabbing his water gun and rushing near the water to try and fill it up.

.

After an action packed water gun fight, Ryan had sat down on his towel while everyone else played in the water. He dug in a mini cooler he had and pulled out one of the Popsicles he had brought— since he couldn't go into the water to cool down.

Though, he saw Christine next to him, and held it out to her. "Here. You want one?"

Christine took it from him with a grateful smile. “Yeah—thank you,” she said warmly.

She settled down beside him on the towel, tucking her legs in comfortably as she peeled the wrapper back. The cold was a welcome relief, and she let out a small, content little hum as she took a bite. She was careful to keep her attention on her own popsicle, eyes focused on the bright red slowly melting in the sun. She angled her body just slightly away — not distant, just considerate — giving him space without making it obvious.

“This is perfect,” she added lightly, like an afterthought. “You always come prepared.” She took another bite, relaxed and happy just sitting there with him, the sounds of laughter and splashing from the others fading into the background as she quietly enjoyed the moment beside him.

Ryan smiled as Christine thanked him and complimented him. "Yeah, I try." He said, unwrapping his own popsicle, and giving a self conscious glanced towards her before starting to lick at his.

He didn't take bites out of it, since he didn't want to chew it, and he also didn't want to swallow it whole, but he also found it was melting quickly.

"Oh no-" he muttered to himself, trying to lick the whole thing so it didn't melt. He felt a bit.. gross doing so, though. He wished he hadn't brought it out at all now. Especially since he was getting the blue syrup all over himself. Plus, his tongue was blue now.

The second Christine caught sight of his tongue, bright blue against his teeth, a quiet laugh slipped out before she could stop it. She immediately softened, turning toward him with a playful smile.
“Okay,” she said gently, amused. “I think yours wins.”

To make her point, she stuck her own tongue out at him—stained a vivid red from her popsicle—holding it there for a second like a kid before laughing again and pulling it back in. “See?” she added lightly. “We match now. Kind of.”

Christine shifted a little closer on the towel, speaking at a low whisper. “Hey… you’re safe with me,” she said sincerely. “I promise. I don’t judge you— you can trust me, Ryan.”She smiled at him, warm and steady. “I like you exactly how you are. You don’t have to worry around me.” She took another bite of her popsicle, eyes on her own treat again.

Ryan glanced over at her when she stuck her tongue out, then tried to reassure him. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, I get that. But I'm blue,” he said, trying to lick up whatever was dripping on him, getting a little frustrated that he was now sticky and.. probably stained blue. Luckily, the blue wasn't very visible on his black skin. But still, he was extremely sticky now.

Christine fumbled a little in her bag before her fingers closed around the familiar pack of wet wipes. She pulled one out quickly, leaning in closer to him with a soft, apologetic smile. “Hold still,” she murmured, half-laughing as she started gently wiping at the sticky spots along his jaw, invisible neck and hands.

She was focused—maybe a little too focused—watching the bright blue streak slowly slide down his bottom jaw. Before her brain could catch up, instinct took over. She leaned in and licked the drip away.

The second she did it, she froze.
Her eyes went wide, her body going completely still as realization hit her all at once. Why did I do that. WHY did I do that. OHMYGOD.

She slowly pulled back, wipe still in her hand, cheeks burning. “I— I’m so sorry,” she blurted out, words tumbling over each other. “That was— I don’t know why I did that, I swear I wasn’t thinking, I just—”

She stopped herself, clearly panicking now, eyes flicking up to his face and then away again. “That was really weird. You don’t have to— I mean—”

Ryan froze when Christine leaned in and licked syrup off his bottom jaw. No one had even touched his jaw- let alone licked it. He quickly looked over at Christine, a shocked look on his face. He was more shocked about her doing that than the actual action- and he didn't find it weird. Not at all. He hesitated before he spoke. "It's.. it's okay." He told her, his hand hovering over the place where she had licked him.

His tone wasn't angry- more soft and shy- and definitely surprised, but not angry. And definitely not like he hated it. He looked down at his popsicle that was already pretty much melted, but he didn't seem concerned about that anymore.

Christine’s face was still burning, but the tension in her shoulders eased a little when she heard his tone—soft, not upset. She let out a slow breath and nodded.

“O-okay,” she murmured, clearly still embarrassed. She kept her eyes on the ground for a second longer before lifting her popsicle again, taking a careful bite. The cold helped. So did the silence. She swallowed, then gestured vaguely toward the horizon with the hand not holding the stick.

“Um… look,” she said quietly “The sky’s really pretty this evening..” Her gaze shifted to the sunset, the colors reflecting faintly off her eyes. “It’s… peaceful,” she added, a small, shy smile tugging at her lips as she finished off the last of her popsicle.

Ryan looked over at her as she spoke about the sunset. He stared at her for a minute before over at the sunset. "Oh.. yeah." He muttered, still thinking about how she licked him.

He.. couldn't help but want it again..

He nodded a little. "It is peaceful.." he agreed, before he felt his stick become lighter. He looked down to see the melted popsicle on his leg instead of its stick. He sighed and slouched over in defeat. "Whatever." He muttered out. "I need to take a shower after this anyway."

Christine noticed him staring, and the way he seemed lost in his own thoughts. She smiled at that, shifting just a bit closer so their shoulders brushed.

She laughed quietly when he looked down at the sticky mess on him. “Yeah… way to ruin the moment,” she teased gently. She reached out without really thinking and brushed her thumb along his wrist, a small, grounding touch. “I’m glad you’re here with me though. This is… nice. I had a lot of fun today!”

She followed his gaze back to the sky, watching it darken more and more. After a beat, her expression softened, a hint of reluctance slipping in. “I, um… I should probably head home soon,” she admitted quietly. “I don’t really want to, but… yeah.”She looked back at him, offering a sincere smile. “Thank you for coming out today, Ryan.”

Ryan looked over at Christine as she teased him, then touched his wrist. He always loved when she touched him in some way. It made him feel.. special. That anyone would want to be that close to him. When she said she should leave, Ryan couldn't help but frown. She was leaving? But- they were sitting here, enjoying the sunset! Christine was touching his wrist! She couldn't leave!

But of course, he never said that to her. He just nodded, pulling his legs closer to himself. "Yeah, you're.. you're welcome. I had fun today.." he said softly, lifting up his free hand and rubbing his shoulder.

Christine lingered for just a second longer. The quiet between them stretched, filled only by the distant sound of the waves. She glanced at Ryan again—at the way he’d pulled in on himself, how soft his voice had been—and something in her chest twisted.
Before she could overthink it, she leaned in.

It was quick. Barely there. A light press of her lips against his upper canine—careful, just a peck. The moment she pulled back, her face flushed bright, heat rushing up her body. “I—” She stopped, laughing nervously under her breath.

She stood too fast, nearly tripping over herself as she turned away. She stole one last glance back at him, cheeks still burning, eyes soft and a little embarrassed. “Goodnight, Ryan,” she said quietly—then hurried off to begin gathering her things.

Ryan's jaw widened when he felt Christine briefly peck his canine. He quickly looked over at her as she stood and walked off. He couldn't help but let his hand move over to where he felt her kiss him. He couldn't believe it. Someone..

The lack of physical affection in all of his other relationships must've really messed him up. This was the first time no one felt really.. disgusted by him.

It was a constant issue.

He stayed sat on his towel until sundown, just watching the waves and the sand until everyone else was gone, and he figured he should leave too. On his way home, his brain was racing with thoughts. But he still couldn't get rid of that feeling of Christine's touch. Her care. Her admiration. He stared down at the ground the ride home, trying to cope with the fact that..

He definitely had a crush.

.

The alarm dragged Christine up from sleep in slow, groggy stages. She groaned quietly, rolling onto her side and fumbling for her phone until the sound finally stopped. For a moment, she just lay there blinking at the ceiling. Then she looked down at her screen.

Her lockscreen lit up with the photo Ava had taken at the beach.Christine felt her face warm almost instantly. It was the angle more than anything — Ryan half over her in the sand, his hands gripping her shoulders…The way he’d been looking down at her in that moment still made her chest flutter.

She swallowed and locked the phone again, pressing it briefly to her chest before forcing herself upright. “Get it together,” she murmured to herself, though the smile wouldn’t leave her face.

She moved through her morning routine on autopilot: shower, clothes, hair dried and styled to the best of her ability. The entire time, her thoughts kept drifting — back to the beach, to the weeks since, to the small messages they’d exchanged that never quite crossed a line but lingered in her mind.

Before heading out, she checked her phone one more time. No new messages yet. Soon, she told herself. You’ll see him soon. The Uber ride to the production studio felt too long almost. Christine watched the city pass by, bouncing her knee with quiet energy, excitement curling low in her stomach. It wasn’t nerves exactly — more like anticipation.

When the car pulled up, she took a steadying breath, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stepped out.

I get to work with him today, she thought, smiling to herself as she headed inside.

Ryan woke up an hour before his alarm. He laid in bed. Then he let the top of his head fall on the floor. Then he let his whole body fall. All out of pure boredom.

He had nothing else to do. He already had his alarm set another hour than before he was supposed to leave his apartment.

When his alarm finally went off, he had to push himself up off the floor and turn it off, before standing up and getting ready properly. He felt like he wasn't that hungry, so he passed up making food. He left pretty early to walk, leaving himself enough time to walk slow and with his head lowered and his hands tucked in his pockets.

He couldn't help but think about Christine. A lot. God, he couldn't stop thinking about her. When he got to the studio, he got right to work on changing and rehearsing lines. He was actually the only one here. Though later, even after everyone arrived, he was still sat by himself, staring down at the script. He hadn't even looked up when Christine walked in- too lost in his own thought.

Christine slipped through the studio doors a little faster than usual, breath just barely uneven from rushing. Late, she realized, glancing at the clock as she moved. Still, her eyes found him almost instinctively. Ryan was already there.

He sat alone with his script, shoulders slightly hunched, head lowered in that familiar way. For half a second, Christine slowed, her chest tightening at the sight. There was something about the way he looked so absorbed that made her want to reach out — say his name, tap his shoulder, make her presence known.

But she didn’t.

Later, she promised herself. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and headed straight for the dressing rooms instead, shoes clicking softly down the hallway. The door swung open just as someone inside looked up.“Oh — hi Maggie,” Christine said quickly, offering a polite smile.

Maggie, who had just finished getting changed into that purple dress, looked up when she heard Christine's voice. She smiled gently at her. "Oh, hey Christine." She waved at her before moving aside so she could get in.

"Ah, Ava showed me that picture of you and Ryan at the beach. Someone has a crush!" Just then, Alex also peeked in from around the corner. "Oh, that beach picture? Ryan is totally into you." They said, moving to fully stand in front of Christine.

They highly doubted that they would actually get together- especially with the tension between the two. Sure, they had chemistry, but it was still really tense. Plus, Ryan had told them stories about his previous relationships. No one.. seemed to like him. And they figured Ryan's previous interactions could affect his current relationships.

Christine’s ears felt hot almost immediately, heat creeping up her neck as Magnolia’s words sank in. Ava had shown them the picture. That picture. The one Christine tried very hard not to think about constantly— and failed at.

She let out a soft, flustered laugh, lifting a hand to her face as if that might hide the way her cheeks had gone bright pink.
“I— no,” she started, then stopped herself, the denial falling apart before it could even land properly. When Alex chimed in, it felt like the floor dropped out from under her just a little.

Christine swallowed. Her eyes flicked away, down to the floor, fingers curling into the strap of her bag. The thought settled in her chest slowly, heavily — but not unpleasantly. More like something clicking into place. She shook her head again, trying — and failing — to gather herself. “It’s not— I mean, we’re just… working together,” she said, though her voice had gone noticeably quieter. Less convincing. “Friends. That’s all.” But she couldn’t bring herself to look at either of them when she said it.

Because the truth was, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense — the way he looked at her, the care in his touch at the beach, the way everything felt loaded when they were alone. Her shoulders lifted in a small, helpless shrug. “I don’t think anything’s… happening,” she added, softer now. She paused, then let out a tiny, embarrassed huff of a laugh.

Maggie smiled, noticing how Christine had denied it. Oh, she was SO into him too. She could see it. Alex shrugged, though their eyes showed a smile despite not having a mouth. "Whatever. Just saying, he's into you too." They hummed, walking off with a limp because of their limbs.

Maggie couldn't help but nudge Christine. "You should ask him on a date! You two would be so cute together. I mean, you two on the beach, you guys are so good for each other!" She exclaimed. She could see it. Christine's energy with Ryan's lack thereof was a perfect combination in her eye.

Christine let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she tried (and failed) to hide her smile. “You’re both evil,” she said, cheeks still flushed as she glanced between them. “You know that, right?”

She bit her lip, eyes flicking away for a second before she looked back at Maggie, shoulders shrugging again. “But… yeah,” she admitted quietly “You’re not wrong.” Her voice dropped just a touch, more honest now. “I mean— if he asked… I’d say yes.”

The words hung there, and Christine laughed again under her breath, equal parts embarrassed and giddy. “God,” she muttered, covering her face for a second.“I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

Maggie's face immediately lit up when she heard that Christine agreed. She gasped and set her hands on her shoulders. "Why wait for him to ask?" She asked before shaking her- just a little. "I mean, I feel like Ryan would like a girl who takes initiative and tells him what she wants! Like you!" She said, before realizing she was probably getting ahead of herself.

"Well- in any case! I'm rooting for you two!" She said, giving her a thumbs up before scurrying off.

Christine opened her mouth like she was about to call after Maggie — to correct her, to backtrack, but the words never came. Instead, she let out a slow breath and turned to the mirror, her movements calmer now as she continued getting dressed. She watched her reflection carefully, the faint blush still there, the way her eyes looked a little brighter than usual.

Her fingers smoothed over the fabric, heart beating a little faster — but steadier, too. The uncertainty of Ryan’s feelings had her in a daze of wonder and confusion. “I don’t want to keep wondering.” She met her own gaze in the mirror and gave a small, determined nod. Whatever happened next, she knew one thing for sure:

She was done pretending she didn’t feel this way.

When Christine walked out, Ryan immediately looked over at her. He couldn't go to say hi- he wouldn't. He.. didn't know if she wanted to talk to him. He probably pushed boundaries at the beach. He was weird, he probably acted weird.

The inner turmoil was visible in his eyes for only a second, before his harness was put on and he was lifted in the air. He looked.. less afraid than usual, but still a bit startled. And all characters were set to gather around him for another adventure scene. Though, his eyes couldn't help but linger on Christine despite everything.

The second Christine stepped out and spotted him, her face lit up. Her expression softened into a bright, genuine smile — the kind that instantly erased doubt — and she lifted her arm high, giving him a big, excited wave like she’d been waiting all day to see him.

For a brief moment, nothing else seemed to exist. Just that simple, wordless hi meant entirely for him. And even as he was lifted into the air, the message was clear and impossible to misread: She was happy to be there with him.

Ryan watched her wave, and even though she looked so happy to see him.. he just couldn't believe it. He gave her a small wave back, but it was full of doubt. Once the cameras started rolling, Ryan got right into character.

"You guys didn't seem to like my other adventure, so let's workshop! What about one about a fighting ring? Surfing with sharks? Guns?" He asked, holding a bunch of papers in his hands.

Christine plants her hands on her hips, shooting him a look that’s half disbelief, half fond exasperation. “No! Caine,” she says firmly. “The last adventure involved a high-speed chase and armed candy crocodiles! We are not escalating again.” Her tone lands perfectly in character — sharp enough to banter, light enough to keep the rhythm moving.

Ryan looked over at Christine with a shocked look- in character for him- before crossing his arms like an angry child. "For your information, escalating is very important!" He declared with one finger raised. "And i thought you all liked high speed stuff!" He shouted, before Alex was quick to intervene.

"Jax was the only person who said he liked that." They said before Ryan shook his head. "You all just don't understand. I put so much effort into my adventures, and you guys have no appreciation!" He shouted, looking away and snapping his jaw shut.

Christine throws her hands up, pacing a step forward as frustration spills over. “Effort doesn’t automatically mean good ideas, Caine!” she snaps. “You can’t just keep raising the stakes and call it creativity!” She gestures back toward the others, voice sharp. “At some point, you have to listen to the people who are actually stuck in your adventures!”

As she stops and faces him head-on, a faint creak cuts through the air. The wires suspending Ryan groan softly above them, sounds of metal shifting just enough to be noticeable. Christine freezes for half a second, eyes flicking upward.

Ryan was about to continue his lines before he heard the groan as well and looked up, freezing exactly how he was before. Oh god what was that. That noise itself made him feel like he was going to be sick.

He waited a second before trying to continue his lines. Hopefully it was just some kind of metal grinding somewhere else! No reason to worry! "Well I'm stuck making them! I slave away all day and this-" He was interrupted by another louder creak, and his body instantly started trembling, against Ryan's wishes. "Uh.." he muttered out, trying to stay still.

Suddenly that familiar “CUT!!” and sharp bell echoed through the studio.

Christine’s head snapped up the second the louder creak echoed, her breath catching sharply in her chest. The color drained from her face as she looked at Ryan—really looked at him—saw the way his body had gone rigid, the trembling he was clearly fighting. “Ryan—” she blurted, panic slipping through her voice as she took an instinctive step toward him before stopping herself, hands clenched tight at her sides. Her heart was pounding way too fast. None of this felt okay.

Her gaze shot upward to the wires, then back to him. “Don’t move,” she said quickly, voice shaking despite her effort to keep it steady. She spun toward the edge of the set, fear fully taking over now.

“Hey! Guys?!” she called out loudly, not caring how frantic she sounded. “Can someone answer me?” Christine looked back at Ryan again, eyes wide and glossy. “When was the last time those wires were inspected?” she demanded, voice rising. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep her eyes on him so he wouldn’t feel alone.

“Ryan, hey—look at me,” she said urgently, holding one hand up toward him even though she couldn’t reach. “I’ve got you. Okay? I’m right here. Just—just hang on.”

Ryan looked over at the staff rushing around trying to figure out what was happening before looking at Christine when she asked. His body was trembling HEAVILY. The fear of heights was rushing over him, the fear of falling, the fear of getting hurt.

All of that hit him all at once when he heard one cable snap. Then two, then he felt himself fall.

He let out a shout as he fell, curling up and holding his head.

Oh god I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die falling from these stupid cables twenty feet in the air. I'm gonna break my arm or my leg, I'm gonna die.

Christine didn’t think—she moved. The instant she heard the first snap, her stomach dropped. The second one sent pure terror through her veins. And when Ryan fell—

“RYAN!” she screamed. She bolted forward, shoes skidding against the floor as she ran directly beneath him without hesitation, arms outstretched, heart hammering so hard it hurt. There was no fear for herself, no second thought—only him.

She caught him.

The impact knocked the breath from her lungs as his weight slammed into her arms, forcing her back a step, then another, but she locked her knees and held on tight, wrapping herself around him like she could shield him from the entire world.

She gasped, arms still clutched around his shoulders and head, hands pressing protectively against him. “I’ve got you—I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she choked out, voice breaking as she buried his head against her chest to keep it safe. Her whole body was shaking now, adrenaline flooding her system.

Ryan didn't realize he was being held- or even that he was still alive and unharmed at this point- until he heard Christine's voice cut through the ringing in his head. He also hadn't noticed everyone else running over to make sure both Christine and Ryan were okay. Even after he registered being in Christine's arms.

All he could do was start gasping for air, clinging onto Christine's jester costume like his life depended on it, leaning into Christine's hold. He felt nauseous, his entire body was still trembling, he felt like he was going to throw up or pass out or- or something. He didn't know. His thoughts weren't complete. He still continued gasping for air, his chest tight and aching.

The adrenaline that had kept her moving, kept her strong, came crashing down all at once—and it broke her. She collapsed fully to her knees with him, arms locking around his back and shoulders, pulling him as close as physically possible, like letting go for even a second might hurt him. Her face pressed into his top jaw, then his shoulder, tears spilling freely now, hot and unstoppable.

“Ryan…” she sobbed, her voice cracking so badly it barely sounded like words. Her own breathing was a mess—short, sharp gasps that didn’t feel like they were giving her any air at all. Her chest hurt. Everything hurt.
People were talking. Shouting. Hands hovered near them.

“Are you hurt?”
“Can you hear me?”
“Do we need a stretcher?”

Christine didn’t hear any of it. All she could grasp was the weight of Ryan in her arms, the way he was shaking, the way his fingers were twisted into her costume like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world. She tightened her hold, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other pressed flat against his spine, rocking him just slightly.

“I’ve got you,” she cried again, over and over, the words falling apart between sobs. “I’ve got you—I’m here—I’m not letting you go..” her tears soaked into his costume as she curled around him, trembling, her forehead resting against the side of his head. She tried to breathe with him, even though she was failing at it herself.

Ryan stayed curled up in Christine's arms, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Eventually, with Chris' comfort, he calmed down enough to process everything around him. The nausea didn't go away, and he swallowed hard to keep himself from getting sick right there and then.

He looked up at Christine, just now realizing she was sobbing. He quickly moved to sit in front of her instead of in her arms, and he hugged her tightly, squeezing her.

"It's okay, I'm- I'm fine.." he told her, before putting his hands on her arms and looking her over. "A-are you hurt? You- you just caught me falling from 20 feet in the air, you should go get checked out." He told her firmly, despite his trembling voice.

Christine barely registered the shift as he moved—only that she refused to let the space between them exist. She followed him automatically, knees shuffling on the floor so she stayed right in front of him, arms still wrapped tight around his back as he pulled her into the hug.

She shook her head immediately, tears still streaming down her face. “No,” she said, breathless and uneven. “No, I’m not going anywhere.”

Ryan squeezed her gently when she told him that she wasn't going anywhere. He didn't want that. She was possibly hurt, could have some strained muscles from catching him from 20 feet in the fucking air- he wanted her to get checked out at least!

He set his hands on her cheeks and wiped off whatever tears fell. "I'm okay, Chris, I'm fine. You caught me. Please let someone check on you.." he asked. He couldn't help but beat himself up over this. He was the reason she was hurt. He was the reason she was *crying*. He couldn't stand it- he couldn't.

Christine shook her head hard at his words, a broken, strangled sound tearing out of her chest as she sobbed. She refused to let go of him, arms locked around his shoulders.

“I’m not going—,” she choked, burying her face against his collar. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his suit, clutching him with panicked desperation. Her breathing was ragged, uneven—too fast, like she couldn’t get enough air no matter how hard she tried.

Then hands were on her shoulders. Calm voices. Paramedics. “Ma’am, you need to come with us.”

“No—no, I’m fine, I’m fine—” Christine’s words dissolved into a sob as two paramedics gently but firmly began to pull her back. She clung harder, fingers curling desperately at Ryan’s suit, nails scraping fabric as she was tugged away from him. “Ryan—” she gasped, eyes wide and glassy as she reached for him, terror flooding her face as the space between them grew. Her body shook violently as they guided her down, easing her onto the stretcher.

Another paramedic stayed behind, crouching beside Ryan, a steady presence as chaos swirled around him. “Hey, buddy. Take a breath. She’s okay. They’ve got her.”

Christine thrashed weakly as they strapped her in, her hands reaching out over the sides of the stretcher, fingers grasping at nothing. “I need him—please—I need to go back—” Her words came out in panicked sobs, chest heaving as she hyperventilated, tears streaking down her flushed face. As they lifted the stretcher, the damage was clear—her knees were scraped raw, angry bruises already blooming beneath torn skin—but nothing looked broken. Physically, she was fine. Emotionally, she was falling apart.

Her eyes never left Ryan even as they wheeled her away, her arm stretching toward him until it couldn’t anymore. “I’m sorry…” she cried, voice cracking.

Ryan stared as Christine was torn away from him and he was forced to stay behind. Christine.. never acted like this before. He knew it was probably because of the adrenaline wearing off, but.. god, it still broke his heart. His eyes stared down at her bruised and bleeding knees. He hurt her. He hurt her… He put his head down and stayed on the ground before grabbing his harness and tearing it off of himself as if it just burnt him.

All of the cast followed after Christine- leaving Ryan on the stage with the one paramedic, whose job it was to make sure he was uninjured. He curled up, holding his churning stomach, and leaned over, feeling like he was going to be sick.

Christine’s breathing was finally slowing. Not even close to steady, but slower. Each inhale still shuddered, each exhale broke halfway through, like her body didn’t trust itself anymore. Now that the adrenaline was fading, everything else rushed in.

The image of him falling.
The weight of him hitting her.
The sound he made when she caught him.

Her knees throbbed dully, stinging where skin had been torn open, but the pain barely mattered. What hurt was the emptiness in her hands. The absence of him under her fingers. The fact that she’d been pulled away and couldn’t get back to him.

Tears slid silently down her temples into her hair as she stared at the ceiling. She squeezed her eyes shut, and the whole day replayed against the backs of her eyelids—laughing between takes, the way Ryan looked so focused up there, the normalcy of it all.

I’d do it all over. I’d catch you every time.

Her chest tightened, a sob clawing its way back up as the realization settled in, heavy and suffocating.

Things would never be normal again.