Nigh Perfection

The trio however went past the glamor and blitz that filled the air. Hector still leading the way as they kept on going higher till they arrived at the fourth floor where the sight of cameras shuttering and models posing came into view.

However these weren't the average faces that could be found so casually, Diana recognized some of these faces, who they were and where they stood. The fact that she was in the same room as them was a fact her brain had yet to process.

Skimming past all of that, Hector came to a specific set in particular set. However unlike the peace that flowed with the rest of the sets, chaos could be seen ensue. "What do you mean that he won't make it?" An agitated voice rang, seated in the director's seat.

Her frame warped in an impeccable custom tailored black blazer that at a moments glance demanded attention upon sight was now in distress. With how beautiful and stunning she was, she could have been mistaken for a model herself. But of course she was none other than Arresia Verille.

"Oh, hi mom." Hector's voice echoed which shifted her head to the source of the voice. Her demeanor changed in an instant as a warm smile formed on her face. She stood up and welcomed Hector with a warm hug as her grey eyes shifted to the two guests he had brought.

"Here they are, Andrew Graves and Diana Harper." His arms gesturing at the two. Her eyes probed Diana as she saw her frame and her demeanor , nervous to get it going however Andrew seem at ease, as if he belonged there.

"Well it's nice to meet you both however I'm kind of busy at the moment." Aressia shifted her head to address an assistant. "Have her take to make-up room B." Bothered with how fast it was, she voiced out. "Make-up?" Her tone uncertain. "Yeah, they're just going to spruce you up a bit."

Hector whispered before she was ushered away by. Andrew taking interest in the scene asked. "What's this scene about?" A rhetorical question to him but the world failed to know. "It's a romance scene but the guy who was supposed to act isn't here. Stuck in traffic, ridiculous."

Her tone apathetic, it was clear that she treated it not with Greta frustration but rather a nuisance. "I could take his place if you'd like." Hector was taken aback by hearing this however Aressia was intrigued. She sized his body before her ashen eyes landed on his face.

He had a warm smile, cool dark eyes that remained unreadable and a calm and stoic air around him. "You could work, but how good is your acting?" His smile grew. "Good enough." Realizing that it was probably hubris, she hesitated. "Please I've met people like you, people who think that they've got it only to be met with the opposite."

"I can handle the pressure with ease." She noted his tone. It wasn't ego or hubris that spoke but a calm composure shining through. Something that she never saw with the models and actresses she worked with. The more she looked at him, the less she felt she knew about him.

She wanted to know what made him tick and gauge his limit. After all every man har one. "If you think you've got it then dazzle me." Her tone amused as she let her make-up artists do their magic.

By the time he was done, he wore a white linen shirt, loosely buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Slacks clung to his form like sculpture. The moment he stepped into the light, it was clear: he didn't wear the frame, he became it. The camera light turned red.

"Roll." She commanded.

Gisela kept her eyes on him, her professional instincts ready to anchor the scene. But something felt off about the entire scene before realizing that it wasn't off but rather, it all felt real, too real. Like he wasn't playing a role but becoming someone she hadn't met before.

Andrew stood across from her, expression soft not seduction, not passion. Something quieter that drew her to him. 'Is this longing that he craves? Or is it something else?'

He took one step forward, then another, until they were two feet apart. He raised a hand, slowly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. The touch was impossibly gentle.

"I almost forgot what your silence sounds like." Andrew murmured, his voice low and laced with gravel. Commanding yet fit the scene perfectly.

It wasn't in the script. But Gisela didn't flinch. She was a seasoned model and adaptation was a skill she came to hone. Her breath caught in her throat.

"You were supposed to come back." She replied, just above a whisper. "You promised."

"I lied." he said curtly, eyes steady as they locked onto hers. "But only to myself." Aressia's eyes narrowed slightly. The monitors picked up every micro expression. Gisela's pupils dilated. Her chest rose, not in rhythm or performance, but in genuine response to the moment.

For a guy she had never met, she couldn't tell why she felt the way she did. Andrew leaned closer, not quite touching her figure.

"I watched the moon every night." He mused, his voice low. "Waiting to forget the shape of your mouth." Gisela's lips parted. "Did you?" He didn't answer. Instead, he reached out with two fingers, delicate, brushing the corner of her jaw, the line of her cheek, as if relearning her from his memory once more.

His thumb ghosted her lower lip but never pressed. "No," he said finally. "I never forgot." The scene was meant to be romantic. But what unfolded had an almost elegiac quality to it, like two souls trying to fit back into a shared skin after too long apart.

Gisela leaned into his touch without thinking. Letting her body move on it's own. "You're cruel." Her whispers laced with a bitter taste to it. "You come back when I've learned how to live without you."

He shook his head. "No. I came back because you never did." She blinked. And for a moment, just a blink, she actually believed it. It didn't feel like a scene anymore. It felt like a secret laid bare for the world to witness and discuss.

Andrew stepped behind her now, wrapping his arms around her waist. His hands gently rested over her navel not possessive, not hungry. Just there. Solid and present.

Gisela's heart was pounding. His chin lowered toward her shoulder, his breath against her collarbone. "You smell like the old garden." he said quietly. "After rain." Her eyes fluttered shut.

*Click*

The photographer captured the moment. Aressia didn't blink. To the crew, it was a perfect performance. To Aressia Verille, it felt like a psychological unmasking of Andrew's.

She now realized that she wasn't watching for chemistry, she was watching for the truth. She knew Gisela's limits. Knew when she was performing versus feeling. This wasn't feeling. It was more than that. This was bleeding.

Gisela had surrendered control. That breathless flutter in her lashes wasn't rehearsed. The tremble in her hand as Andrew cupped it gently, genuinely wasn't in the script.

And Andrew?

Stone-faced. Poised. Like he'd done this before, a thousand times, in dreams that weren't his. 'All of this, out or pure improvision and not careful planning and acting.' Aressia's eyes narrowed into his figure. Her words a faint murmur that she alone could hear.

"So he chose these words?" Her mind replaying the scene. Aressia turning her attention back to the screen, her expression now tinged with something almost personal. Curiosity.

Andrew turned Gisela gently, her back to the bed. His hands slid up her arms, stopping at her shoulders. Their faces hovered inches apart. Dead silence reigned. No one said anything. No direction came. And yet...

"I wanted to hurt you," Gisela whispered. "After you left." He held her gaze. "Then why didn't you?" Her throat moved with a swallow. "Because I still see you in my mirror." Andrew reached down, interlocking their fingers together.

"And I still dream of you in mine." His tone soft and tender. Their faces drew closer, but there was no kiss.No climax to finish it off. Just a shared held breath the two had.

A tension so raw it electrified the air not only in the scene but in the entire room as well. All eyes were locked onto the pair. Gisela blinked once moreand for the first time in her career—tears welled at the edges.

"Cut!"

The word sliced the moment clean.

Gisela staggered back half a step as the lights dimmed and cameras halted.

Andrew let go of her hands. His visage beamed no satisfied grin, no hubris surrounding him but rather a small satisfied smile.

"Thank you." He whispered into her ear Then he turned and walked off set, his back straight, gait slow and exact.

Gisela stared after him. A few crew members began gathering equipment. Someone offered her a towel. Another a bottle of water. She didn't take them. Her hands still tingled where he'd touched her. Aressia approached slowly, her face unreadable.

"You okay?" she asked coolly. Gisela looked at her, eyes still enthralled at the moment, dazed. "I… was he acting?" Aressia didn't answer. Because she didn't know. And that terrified her. Hector who watched from the side was even more stupefied.

"I didn't think that you were such a god tier actor. A great tennis player, a perfect pianist and now a great actor, do you talents never end?" His face in shock however Andrew knew what truly lurked beneath that face projecting awe.

"And here I thought that you were nothing more than a kid full of himself and you proved me dead wrong. It's such a shame that you still aren't in the modelling or acting industry. I'm starting to wonder whether it's Diana or you whose the real gem in the rough."

Her head tilted in amusement however her mind had more to say. "Speaking of Diana, shouldn't we check on her." Shifting the attention elsewhere, he posed as his tone remained monotone and humble, a dramatic shift from earlier.

'I still don't believe that he has congenital analgesia and emotionally inert. If that's the case then I can only imagine how he would be if he was emotionally vibrant.' Arresia wanted to have a secluded chat with him, discover who he truly was but she chose to wait and see more of him.

As for Gisela, she had yet to fully recover from what she had just experienced.