Anna woke up the next morning with her head pounding like a drum. The room was too bright, the bed too warm, and every sound seemed to echo in her skull. She groaned, burying her face in the pillow as she tried to piece together the events of the previous night.
It had been a fun party—she remembered that much. There had been laughter, dancing, and maybe one too many glasses of wine. And Rogan… oh God, she'd leaned on Rogan. Anna's eyes flew open as fragments of their interactions resurfaced. She remembered giggling like a schoolgirl, leaning on his shoulder, and telling him how much she liked him. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
"Oh no," she muttered into the pillow. "What did I do?"
The memory of Rogan's gentle smile and patient demeanor made her cringe. He'd been so kind, so understanding, and she'd acted like… well, like a drunken fool. With a groan, Anna rolled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face, trying to shake off the grogginess and the rising tide of shame.
The cold water helped a little, but it did nothing to ease the anxiety gnawing at her stomach. How was she supposed to face Rogan today? What if he thought she was a complete mess? Worse, what if she'd somehow ruined the budding connection they'd started to form?
After forcing down some water and a couple of aspirin, Anna dressed in a loose, comfortable outfit. She opted for minimal makeup, hoping to look presentable without feeling like she was hiding behind a mask. Her hair, still slightly tousled from sleep, was pulled back into a low ponytail. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and grabbed her phone to check the time. She had just enough time to grab a light breakfast before heading to the set.
As she made her way down to the hotel's café, her thoughts were consumed with what she would say to Rogan. Should she apologize? Play it off as no big deal? Act like nothing happened? None of the options felt right, and the uncertainty only made her more anxious.
She picked at a plate of toast and fruit, barely tasting any of it. Her stomach churned too much to eat, so she ended up sipping on herbal tea, hoping it would settle her nerves. After what felt like an eternity, she forced herself to head to the set.
The set was already buzzing with activity when Anna arrived. Crew members were setting up cameras, adjusting lights, and prepping the scene for the day's shoot. The energy was infectious, and for a moment, Anna managed to push aside her worries as she focused on the work ahead.
That was until she saw Rogan across the set, talking to the director, Michael Grant. He looked as composed as ever, his expression calm and focused as he listened to Michael's instructions. Anna felt her heart skip a beat. She hadn't expected to feel this nervous, but here she was, standing awkwardly at the edge of the set, unsure of what to do.
Rogan glanced in her direction, and their eyes met. For a split second, Anna considered bolting. But then Rogan gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, and she knew she had to face him. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked over to where he and Michael were standing.
"Morning, Anna," Michael greeted her with a warm smile. "You ready for today?"
"Good morning," Anna replied, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Absolutely. Ready as ever."
Michael seemed satisfied with her response and quickly launched into an explanation of the scene they'd be shooting. As he spoke, Anna couldn't help but steal glances at Rogan. He was paying close attention to Michael, but she noticed the subtle way his gaze would flicker toward her, as if he, too, was aware of the tension between them.
When Michael finished his briefing, he clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's get started. I want to capture some close-ups first, so, Anna, Rogan, take your places."
Anna felt a wave of relief as Michael walked off to confer with the cinematographer. It gave her a moment to gather her thoughts before she and Rogan would have to interact directly. But the relief was short-lived as Rogan turned to her, his expression unreadable.
"Hey," he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
"Hi," Anna replied, her voice a little too high-pitched for her liking. She cleared her throat and tried again. "About last night…"
Rogan raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
"I'm sorry if I was… well, a little too much," she said, feeling her cheeks heat up again. "I don't usually get that drunk, and I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
To her surprise, Rogan's lips twitched into a small smile. "You don't need to apologize, Anna. You didn't do anything wrong. We were just having fun."
The sincerity in his voice made Anna relax a fraction. "Still, I don't want you to think I'm some kind of lightweight who can't handle her alcohol."
Rogan chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. "Don't worry, I don't. Everyone has a night like that once in a while."
Anna smiled, feeling a bit of the tension ease out of her shoulders. "Thanks, Rogan. I was worried I might have embarrassed myself."
"You didn't," he assured her, his tone soft. "And even if you had, it's nothing to worry about."
Anna nodded, grateful for his understanding. But before she could say anything more, the crew began calling for them to take their places.
They walked over to the set, where their scene as Emma and Luke would take place. As they prepared, Anna couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them. The awkwardness was still there, but it was softened by the kindness Rogan had shown her.
The first few takes were a bit stiff, likely due to Anna's lingering self-consciousness. She struggled to immerse herself fully in the scene, her mind drifting back to the conversation she'd just had with Rogan. Was she reading too much into his kindness? Did it mean anything more?
As the shoot continued, however, Anna found herself slowly relaxing. Rogan's steady presence helped ground her, and she began to lose herself in the rhythm of their dialogue. His calm demeanor, his professionalism—it all made her feel more at ease. Even when they had to redo a take because of a minor mistake, Rogan remained patient and focused, never once showing frustration.
During a break between scenes, Anna found herself standing next to Rogan once more. The silence between them wasn't as heavy as it had been earlier, but there was still a lingering tension, a sense that something had shifted.
"You're doing great," Rogan said, breaking the silence.
Anna looked up at him, surprised by the compliment. "Thanks. You too."
He smiled, but there was something else in his eyes—something softer, more personal. "Last night… it was nice to see a different side of you."
Anna blinked, caught off guard by the comment. "Really?"
"Yeah," Rogan said, his tone thoughtful. "You're usually so composed, but last night, you were… more open. It was nice."
Anna felt a strange warmth in her chest at his words. She hadn't expected him to say that, and it made her realize that maybe, just maybe, there was more to their connection than she had originally thought.
Before she could respond, they were called back to the set. But as they returned to their positions, Anna couldn't shake the feeling that the awkwardness between them had started to dissolve, replaced by something else—something unspoken, but undeniably there.
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