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Summary
Connor had always been reckless in his own life. He loved chasing risk, enjoying any adventure wild enough to satisfy his hedonistic streak. Perhaps too much time living in L.A had rewired his brain.
He knew how much he'd miss their shared moments once filming wrapped up. Their complicity during rehearsals, the extensive sex marathons they liked to call “research”, their stupid little inside jokes, the way Hudson became cranky when sleep-deprived, the certainty that they'd repeat it all again the next day. All gone once production ended.
With everything closing in on him, Connor made a decision. Right as they were diving into the last weeks of filming, he worked up the nerve to ask:
"I think we should film ourselves,” he said. “you know... fucking.”