Marisol handed her a script, pulling her attention back to the present. "Focus, Elara. You've got a role to land."
Elara took the script, though her mind wasn't anywhere near the lines printed on the pages. She stared at the text, her gaze skimming over the words without truly absorbing them. She couldn't stop replaying the fight with Amara, the hurt in her girlfriend's eyes, and the gnawing guilt that came with leaving without a proper goodbye.
"You're doing that thing again," Marisol said, her voice cutting through the silence.
"What thing?" Elara asked, feigning innocence as she flipped a page.
"That thing where you pretend to read but are actually wallowing in existential dread."
Elara shot her a look. "I'm not wallowing."
Marisol raised an eyebrow. "Sure you're not. And I'm secretly a magician with a side gig as a unicorn wrangler."
