1:13AM
MESSAGE FROM:
Pedro

Pedro
Favorite actor?

Willow
Mark Hamill

Pedro
Solid answer
I respect that

Willow
You?

Pedro
Aw, even better answer.

Willow
HAHA PLEASE
I hate u

Pedro
Gotchaaaa
Jk that's a tough one honestly.
Gene Hackman 100%
Also Paul Sparks
And I have mad respect for
Gary Oldman

Willow
live laugh love gary oldman honestly

Pedro
haha exactly 😂

Willow
What're u doin rn

Pedro
Texting you:)
and watching golden girls

Willow
I didn't peg you
for a golden girls gal
I love those little old ladies

Pedro
I love the simplicity of it.
To be funny in a timeless sense.
To show that age and women and
friendship are the backbone of human
nature.
Without that monotony becomes the
forefront of everything.
And with that, misogyny and
masochism run free.

Willow
God you're refreshing.
I completely agree and I LOVE that you
get that from such a poignant show.
I think Betty White's legacy will
outlive everything else.
And that's so important.
That a woman of such fervor and drive
can star in a show created to literally
showcase the beauty of aging and oppose
the perennial ageism
that modern society holds above our heads.
I think watching that show at 1am
and seeing the true meaning
is...
yeah.

Pedro
Is what?
You can say it.

Willow
It's hot, Pedro.
Really hot.
(Messages not delivered.)

Pedro
Favorite golden girl?

Willow
Dorothy.
Idc I think she's hilarious.
Her wit raised me.
And shed do anything
for the other girls.

Pedro
Niceeee choice.
I have a special place for Blanche
and Rose, but I absolutely love Sophia.

Willow
SOPHIA?
You're unlike anyone I've ever met
deadass.
Sophia.
I mean I love her but your favorite?

Pedro
Yeah!
I think she symbolizes strength
and wisdom.
She reminds me a lot of my mom.

Willow
Aww.
That's sweet.
Does she like the show too?

Pedro
Not really 😂
She preferred soaps.
But she was resilient and funny
and fearless.
She said what she thought and
always meant what she said.
She'd do anything for the people
she loved.
She was a wonderful person.

Willow
I'm sorry you lost her.
I know what that's like.
I'm sure she loved you very much.

Pedro
Thank you.
She did, I know that.
I wouldn't be who I am without her.
None of it.
No acting, my personality, my gratitude.
She's with me though, you know?
Still keeping an eye out.
I think she'd be proud.
But I do it all for her.
Live the life she couldn't.

Willow
She would be.
And she is.
And she sounds wonderful.
I'm sorry I'll never know her.

Pedro
She'd love you 😂
You both would gang up on me.

Willow
What was her name?

Pedro
Verónica Pascal.
I took my last name because of her.
No one could pronounce
Balmaceda anyway 😂

Willow
I love the name Verónica.
So hold on how am I just now
finding out that Pedro Pascal isn't
your real name?????

Pedro
Hahahahaha
Sort of😂
It's José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal.
Pedro's my middle name.
But José is so common in Spanish cultures.
I mean, Pedro is too but I wanted to use it
and bring another meaning to it other than
"Vote for Pedro" you know?
Being strong, hardworking, and putting
my best foot forward. In her name.

Willow
I love that so much.
That's so powerful.
What would you prefer I call you?
Like does your family call you
one thing and your friends another?

Pedro
You can call me anything you want.
Pedro's what most people call me,
Pa calls me Mijo, and on
veryyyy rare occasions José.
Lux calls me either PP
(which she's taken to doing since I
change my name)
Or she and my brother call me Bebo
Idk why they just always have 😂
Usually it's just swear words 😂😂
But anything's fine!

Willow
Okay.
Pedro for now.
I'll come up with a nickname!

Pedro
What about you?
Nicknames?

Willow
Anything's fine!
People call me "Will" a lot
And my dad calls me nutter butter.
came from peanut, from when
I was a baby.
I've always been peanut.
Lately it's been variations of that 😂
My sisters just call me
sis or something like that.

Pedro
I don't wanna call you what
everyone else calls you.

Willow
No?

Pedro
No.
I'll come up with something.

Willow
Is it bad that I'm cheesy grinning rn?

Pedro
I haven't stopped since your name
came on my screen tonight.

Willow
You texted first.

Pedro
So I could see your name.
And talk to you.
I like talking to you.

Willow
Yeah?

Pedro
Yeah.

1:34AM
MESSAGE FROM:
Pedro

Pedro
Can I ask you something

Willow
No

Pedro
HA that was rhetorical
Do you wanna like
Idk
Actually go out sometime?
Instead of just texting?
We're already dating LOL

Willow
Technically that's not real

Pedro
Yeah technically

Willow
I want to

Pedro
Really?

Willow
Yeah I mean
Like you're way nicer
than you were a few weeks ago
hahahaha jk
but seriously i mean,
we already see each other daily.
I would love to spend 1 on 1 time
But idk
Is it allowed?

Pedro
Allowed?
Wym?

Willow
Is it allowed per the contract

Pedro
Oh.
Right.
Haha sorry I forgot.
See u on set, princessa

Willow
Wait, Pedro, I didn't mean to upset you

1:41AM

Willow
Wait, Princessa?
Is that my new name? 😂

1:57AM

Willow
gn i guess

—

Willow leaned her head back, munching on the protein bar she'd snagged from her trailer.
She'd been lucky enough to get a trailer, albeit small, but Disney had the budget to get all a starring actors their own.

Pedro had the largest one, of course, being the star of the show. He didn't spend much time in, surprisingly enough. He was always around people, joking with the crew, running lines, taking notes.

He never stood still. Willow found that both endearing and incredibly irritating.

She couldn't get a word in half the time. Especially since three days prior when he'd last texted her.

They'd made great progress in their friendship since first meeting, and now it seemed as though they'd taken five steps back.

He hasn't responded to any of her messages, save one when she asked if he'd be on set that day, per one of their producers, and he responded with a thumbs up.

He'd practically ignored her at work, excluding their scenes together, which indirectly made it easier to portray her hostile character.

Willow wasn't entirely sure what she'd done wrong. She thought they were off to a great start, possibly even planning to spend time together — a date, even, if she dared think the words — but now it seemed he wasn't interested in her at all.

She detested his new hot and cold attitude, even wishing he would just go back to how it was prior to their "relationship," where he was rude at best.

And as mildly irritating as he was, she missed him. She missed talking to him late at night or early in the morning before work. Ever since that first night where they'd talked about their favorite things, they always started the next conversation with a question — a get to know you.

And now radio silence.

It irked her, deeply. Now quiet, he unknowingly toyed with her insecurities, making her inferiorities feel far greater than they actually were. While seemingly inconsequential to most, her fears prayed on her very sense of self.

Was she enticing? Funny? Witty? Interesting? Friendly? Did she irritate people? Was Pedro irritated by her? Is that why he'd suddenly stopped communicating with her?

She watched him laugh, bending over in his Mandalorian armor, a wide smile on his face. She found a small smile tugging at her lips, her eyes never leaving him.

He seemed happy. He didn't seem like he wanted to talk to her. Maybe he was better off without her. Was she being clingy? Annoying? She thought they'd made a connection about his mom and their mutual love for taking down the patriarchy — but what if he had those conversations with everyone? What if she was insignificant to him? Just another cast member. Another PR stunt.

She'd always had an issue with letting herself get too attached, it was partly why she despised Hollywood.

Even after her and James broke up, he was the hero and she the villain, all because she was a woman.

And now, with Pedro, she'd let herself get too attached and he was pushing her away, signaling his disinterest. And there she was, mistaking his kindness for attraction from the very beginning.

He probably got to know all of his cast mates. She was no different. She sighed, eyes drifting down to the ground as a hand touched her shoulder.

Jumping slightly, she let out a breathy laugh at the person next to her: Macey, her makeup artist, watching her with raised eyebrows.

"You good, Will?"

"Yeah," She nodded, tossing the protein bar wrapper into a trash bin a few steps away. "Thanks, Macey. Sorry. In my head a lot."

"How long've you guys been together?" She asked, pulling out a small makeup brush and dotting on concealer. "You and Pedro," she added at Willow's befuddled expression.

"Oh," Willow laughed again, her nose crinkling as dust flew into her nostrils. "About a month. It's good though. New, but...but really good."

A small smile escaped her as her eyes glanced back over to the man in question, who, she found with surprise, was staring back at her, an equal smile on his own lips.

As their eyes connected, his own widened and he looked away, walking from the room entirely.

"You guys don't seem...good," Macey's eyes watched Willow's face questionably. For a moment, Willow felt like a teenager, or what she imagined they felt like.

Crushing on a boy, gossiping about it with her friend.

But the situation was entirely different. Macey was nice enough, but they weren't friends. She didn't trust Macey. She didn't know Macey, and Macey didn't know her. A single line out place, neigh, a word, could jeopardize everything Willow and Pedro were supposed to keep up.

"Oh," Willow shook her head as Macey continued covering the light freckles on her cheeks. "No, no, we're good," she said smoothly. "We don't like to be very public at work, because it's unprofessional, but we're um," she watched Pedro enter the room again, helmet on, prepared for the scene. She swallowed, a fluttering feeling settling deep in her stomach. "We're very good."

Macey's eyes widened and she laughed to herself, pulling the brush away. "Okay, okay, I see you girl. For an older man, he is attractive."

Willow giggled, eyes meeting Macey's amused ones. "He is, isn't he?"

There it was again, that familiar tugging sensation. The longing to have a life other than her own, to have friends to call her own. People she could trust.

A sense of loneliness settled into her stomach, overcrowding the fluttering from before and the smile fell from her face.

"Gotta get back on," she told Macey, who nodded, rushing quickly behind the Director's chair.

Taking the loneliness, the familiar surge, the anger and bitter resentment, she hardened her face, looking at Pedro, the Mandalorian.

"Action!"

—

Willow knocked on the trailer door with an anxious feeling in her gut. This could be potentially very bad, catastrophic even.

They were supposed to have well-placed photos, comments, Twitter threads — and now, she could be ruining it all.

The door opened and Pedro stood before her, surprise stretching across his face. He wore a grey t-shirt and sweats, seemingly getting ready to sleep.

She was doing the same thing before. Except she'd put on Golden Girls and glanced at her phone, clutched it in her hand. Like a drug, she was addicted to him. His words, so particular, so genuine. He was raw, from the moment they first opened up, and she knew, she knew that had been real.

If nothing else, his words had. Right?

"Oh," he let out softly, eyes watching her carefully. "Hi."

"Hi."

He swallowed, eyes glancing behind her. He gestured her in, then peeked his head back outside, ensuring no one was watching, and closed the door behind him.

"You shouldn't be here," he told her steadily, turning around to face her. His arms crossed over his chest and he watched her unamused.

"I know, I just—"

"—The thing about PR relationships is that you can't actually be in one. If we get caught in here, if someone snaps a photo or sends a message to someone else, if the rumor mill starts running, then we're done with."

"Isn't the whole point to literally like each other?"

"Pretend," he corrected. She watched him closely, his eyes not meeting hers. "Pretend to like each other. We can't—we don't actually like each other."

"I like you" she wanted to say. "I like your eyes and your wide smile and your late night texts and your hair when it curls over your ears I like your voice, and the very, very slight accent you have. I like you."

But she didn't say any of that. She watched him. And he watched her.

"You should go—"

"—Why don't you text me anymore?" She asked suddenly, before she could stop herself. She knew if she walked out the door without an answer, then he may not ever text her again. Might not even speak to her again.

And for some reason, that scared her.

"I—I just," he shrugged, as though he himself didn't know the answer. "I can't like you, Willow. It's gonna make things harder."

"What harder?"

"When we break up," he said quietly. "Five months. What, I get you five months and then we break up and continue our careers? Or we keep our relationship, and pretend we were always really together. And we go against our agents, the lawyers — no, I can't, I have a reputation—"

"—Reputation?" Willow breathed out. "Is that what this is about? You don't want your nice guy reputation tarnished with my—"

"—Hold on, that's not fair, I—"

"—No, no, it's okay," she shrugged, clamming up. "I shouldn't have come here. See you tomorrow."

Willow brushed past him, hand on the door, when she felt his hand on her arm.

"Stop doing that," he snapped, a frown on his handsome features. "You're always running. Stop running. Let me explain, Willow."

Willow shook her head, tightening her grip on the door. She tried to ignore the burning she felt when his hand touched her, his skin on her own. It was easier to ignore at work, when they acted as other people. That wasn't Pedro and she wasn't Willow.

But here, now, standing before him, feeling his — surprisingly soft — hand on her arm, the bare skin touching her, she swallowed.

"Why can't we be in a relationship?" She turned around, surprising him, his hand dropping down and catching her own.

She didn't drop it.

"If we enter a relationship, we have to promote the fact that we're in a relationship. If we were to break up, who would be blamed for it?"

Her first thought was him. The man. He'd be blamed, he was older, wiser, they'd accuse him of cheating.

But why would he do it?

Because of her.

"Oh," slipped out. "I don't care about that. We won't break up."

"We haven't even started dating and you're already sure we won't break up?"

"Technically we've been dating for weeks."

"Princessa, stop," he groaned out. She ignored the tightness in her core at his words, the phrase sending chills down her spine. "Stop. We can't be in a relationship. Why do you think I'm single? I will drag you down. That's inevitable. Acting isn't a career, it's a life choice. You marry someone in the industry who your agent approves of or you die alone. That's the way it is."

"The way it is?" She repeated. "The way it is? I've been in relationships with other actors. Don't think I don't know how this ends but—"

"—Do you? Do you, really? Because as far as I know, we're a PR stunt and your ex-boyfriend is the hero of your last relationship. Remind me again, what happened there?"

"That's different," She mumbled out, her head drifting down at his words.

"Sure it is." He sighed, dropping her hand and moving it to lift her chin up.

"Willow, I adore you. And if we were normal, if we knew that we'd work out, if we weren't coworkers, maybe...no, there's no maybe, I would've kissed you by now. That I know. But we're not normal. We're actors, pawns in a game someone else controls. We don't get to be together. We don't get to make choices, because the second we do — it will all come crashing down."

"But we could try," she said weekly.

"We couldn't. And we shouldn't. I—I shouldn't have texted you that first night, I'm sorry. But I know enough about you to be okay in interviews and I think you do too and that's all that really matters now. The public's opinion of us, that's what matters. You can't take another hit, tesorito. Make amends with your dad, publicly. Write a statement about your relationship with James. Stick to cue cards about me. But don't — don't text me anymore. If we keep talking, if I keep getting to know you..."

His thumbs rubbed against her cheeks and his eyes stared into her deeply, as though he were looking into her very soul.

She could smell him clearly now; bergamot, the scent stronger than the others. But she could smell cedar wood, and ginger. And a hint of cinnamon. His scent encompassed her, from her head to her toes, washing through her and cleansing her of worries and fears. She thought he felt familiar before, and now, standing in front of him, his hands on her face, their breaths intermixing — she knew why.

She could feel it distinctly, within her very being. He was suffocating her, his scent whispering around her, dizzying her, and yet, she felt steady. He was fire and rain and peace and noise, all at once. He smelled like something she never wanted to give up, never wanted to let go of. He smelled what she imagined stability to smell like. Or home.

His face leaned closer to hers and she relaxed herself, wishing him to kiss her, practically begging him for it with her eyes.

They closed on their own accord, her body taking over her mind. She gasped as his lips made contact with her forehead.

He pressed a gentle kiss there, inhaling deeply.

"Be good," he whispered gently. "That's all they need to see. Just be the Willow I've come to know, okay?"

Willow nodded softly and then he pulled away, standing back from her.

She didn't dare look into his eyes, knowing she'd break down crying. Instead, she turned and left the trailer, heading to her own in the chilly autumn night.

She glanced down at her phone, hoping his name would light up the screen. But it wasn't the way she wanted. And she immediately knew that he was right.

Pedro Pascal and Willow Sandler: Trouble in Paradise? Anonymous Insider Tells All

—

There u go:)
hopefully this isn't moving too fast and his motives are coming across clearly.
They both want a relationship but can't act on it in fear of the repercussions that could follow.
lmk your thoughts:)
-osw