I was up before sunrise, having slept for a total of three restless hours. Laurence was still asleep, which left me with the time to change out of the stupid silk nightgown, book Laurence his own room — so he could keep his unnecessary and medication-induced thoughts to himself— order room service for him so he wouldn't have to move too much, leave medication next to the side of his bed, and head out for my morning meeting with Michale before our second day of shooting.

"You look like you need a third cup of coffee," Michale said, sitting back down at the table at the small restaurant connected to the hotel and gently pushing the cup of coffee toward me. We sat on the patio, watching the sunrise as we ate breakfast, the breeze a mix of humid heat and cool ocean mist.

"Thank you," I murmured into the coffee cup, enjoying the way the liquid warmed my insides.

"You poor thing. Did the hospital trip take a long time?" he asked, taking a bite of his fruit salad.

I nodded, trying to ignore everything that came after that trip. It would start rumors, and I didn't want people thinking that I slept my way into my position. "Let's talk strategy for the rest of the shoot days," I said, doing my best to keep my face expressionless.

Pulling out my trusty binder— filled with daily color coded schedules, itemized lists of props, contact information for every member of our team, and location details— I layed it out on the table. "Today's shoot is by the pool and should be easy enough prop wise. No changes there." I talked through the following days briefly before talking about our final day. "The rainforest shoot. I've added bug spray to the list of items we need to purchase. It will take us an hour to get there, so we need to account for that on our daily shoot schedule."

Michale looked down at my binder, brow raised. "I know all of that information already. The bug spray however..." he shuddered as if picturing dozens of models getting eaten alive by mosquitos. "Good call."

I rubbed my temples. "Right. Sorry. Tired."

Michale waved his hand, plucking up a melon with his other hand. "Don't worry. Most people in the 'calling the shots' role don't sleep well during their first week of shoots. You'll find your stride." He gave me an encouraging smile. "Just eat, be kind to yourself, and take it one item at a time." He glanced back down at my binder. "Not... all the items at a time."

"Right." I said, shoveling a forkful of gallo pinto and scrambled eggs into my mouth.

"Excuse me," a new voice said. I looked up to see the hotel's front desk receptionist standing at the edge of our table. "Are you Miss Autumns?"

I nodded.

"Mr. Royal requested I deliver this to you. And to let you know he has checked into his new room."

She placed a small box down before me, a small note folded in half, taped to the top of it. I remembered the box from the night before. One that the receptionist had been holding while talking to Laurence.

Did he buy me something yesterday?

The receptionist left without a word and I blinked down at the box, wondering what it could be. After a moment of hesitation, not wanting any more surprises from Laurence, I opened the box and couldn't seem to hold back the smile that forced it's way across my face.

Michale raised a brow as I held up what was inside. "A phone?"

Opening the note, I noticed that his handwriting wasn't his clean, familiar script. It was wobbly, no doubt from attempting to write it with his left hand. I could see him getting irritated, face pinched in concentration as he attempted to make the words clean.

So I don't have to travel for hours the next time I need to talk to you.

–L

"His way of fixing my lack of an international phone plan," I said by way of explanation.

Michale stared at the phone with a thoughtful expression. "His new room...." He looked up at me. "Do I dare ask where Laurence slept last night if he didn't sleep in his own room?"

I refused to look guilty or frazzled. Instead I looked Michale straight in the eyes, daring him to judge me. "The reception desk closed down before we got back from the hospital at one in the morning. I slept on the couch."

Michale nodded, seeming unbothered by my explanation and went back to his bowl of fruit. He plucked up a piece of melon, staring at it with a casual expression. "You are aware that the reception desk is open twenty four hours?"

I blinked. "No. The sign at the front desk... It said they wouldn't be back for..." I scrambled to remember. How long had the sign said they'd be gone?

"Fifteen minutes," Michale said. "They probably were on a break."

The breath left my body. Was Laurence in too much pain to read the Spanish sign properly?

Michale waved away my shocked expression. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. You don't read Spanish. Easy mistake."

But Laurence does... Why did he lie?

...

One of the biggest perks of being in charge of a large scale shoot is how little time you have to overanalyze and think about things that you'd rather not think about anyway. I was up at sunrise, downing coffee like I needed air, and collapsing back in my bed close to midnight each evening after putting out production fires every shoot day.

I spotted Laurence at different points throughout the process. Sitting by the pool, laptop on his lap, attempting to type one handed while Michale and I juggled the pool shoot with everything we had. I could have sworn I saw him look up at me whenever I was too busy to look back, but assumed I was just slowly going mad, his words still bleeding into my conscious thoughts even as I shoved them back.

He was at the bonfire set up the following evening as embers flew into the sky, causing the set clothes to look like falling sparks of magic, his body a shadow as he walked along the beach, eyes on the setting sun, looking for all the world like a fallen angel.

I kept expecting him to move closer, to fall into my stratosphere of people trying to get my attention, but he was aloof, but always nearby, as if serving as silent moral support. 

On the fourth evening, after shouting that we had wrapped for the day, the models and crew sending cheers up, Laurence caught my eye for a beat and offered me a nod, a smile so close to the surface that if I had looked at him for a moment longer, I was afraid it would draw me to him, like a moth to a flame that was destined to burn her.

It was a rare evening where I was finished with my work early and instead of joining the crew at the hotel restaurant, I shuffled to my room, exhausted, itching to order room service and fall asleep to an old movie. As I opened the door, I nearly bumped into a food trolly.

A small note sat to the side. Curious I lifted the cloche that covered the food, and found a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich waiting for me, the food still hot. Snatching up the note, I found Laurence's wobbly left handed writing.

I was recently informed that it is a crime to have tomato soup without a grilled cheese sandwich.

–L

I stared at the food, torn between gratitude and frustration. It felt like a mind game. My head understood that he was just trying to show support. To pay back a kindness. But with every kind gesture he showed, he was stealing a bit more of a heart I was trying desperately not to let him have.

"Food is food," I said down to the grilled cheese. "And I am not going to punish you for my confusing situation," I added, plucking up the tray and settling into bed, doing my best not to think of Laurence with each bite I took.

But it did little good because he was there. Memories of him in my hotel bed, draped along the couch, medication induced confessions that I wasn't sure were true or remembered. Finishing the food, I yanked the blankets over my head trying to block out his presence.

...

Days bled by, clothes were documented, memories were created, and I was left thankful for the crew and models that had brought everything to life. It was surreal, hard to believe I had nearly survived the entire event and come out unscathed and on budget. 

As everyone shuffled into the large bus we had rented out for the final day of shooting, I checked off each name on my clipboard, touched that everyone greeted me with smiles. I had found my way and was now given respect instead of uncertain glances. I had earned each smile I received. 

My happy rhythm of checking each name off was thrown when Laurence walked onto the bus. My pen paused, hovering above my checklist, seeming uncertain of how to categorize someone who wasn't expected to be there.

"Laurence!" Michale said with a smile. "So glad you could join us for the final day."

"Good morning Mr.—"

"It's Michale, Laurence. If you call me by my family name I will be rightfully horrified. It's not part of my photography persona, so please don't use it," Michale said with a pointed look.

My head whipped around and I had to fight a glare of betrayal. Michale didn't know why I wouldn't want Laurence there. Why his gaze seemed to make me forget how to do anything.

Laurence held up his uninjured hand, relenting. "Fair enough." 

He began looking around for an open seat and came to the same conclusion I had a beat before taking a seat next to me, in the only open spot left, at the front of the bus.

His eyes settled on me. "Good morning Miss Autumns."

"Good morning Laurence," I said, ignoring his formality. I had promised myself that I would continue to be my confident, driven self and not go back to calling him Mr. Royal. He wasn't my boss anymore.

I watched Laurence's lips twitch upward and fought a smile of my own. "How'd you sleep?" I asked.

"Distractedly," he said, his eyes still settled on my face.

"Sorry to hear that," I said plucking up my binder, pretending to examine something inside, hiding my burning face.

He remembers. He remembers what he said.

Holding my breath, I waited for an apology, for him to explain why he said what he did. Medication induced madness no doubt. But instead, he kept talking, like his words that night were unregretted. "How is the phone? I meant to give it to you the day we arrived, but you crushed me under a pile of camera equipment before I could."

Michale, who was sitting behind us, let out a laugh before trying to smother it with a fake cough.

I offered Laurence a dry look before my eyes were drawn to the rest of him. He wore a pair of tan slacks and a dark blue polo shirt that seemed to have been made with his exact measurements in mind. He looked perfect, even when he was wearing clothes that were clearly not something he had pulled from his own closet.

"It's one of the only things the hotel store had," Laurence said by way of explanation when he caught me staring at him.

I looked away, embarrassed that he had caught me watching him. "Allie would be horrified."

Laurence laughed, startling me with how easy it sounded. Warm and open and perfect. "It makes it almost worth it."

"I can't believe you didn't bring a single change of clothes. It's unlike you to be unprepared. Didn't have any extra room in that computer bag?"

He attempted a shrug before wincing. "I wasn't intending to stay. I got the email and when I couldn't reach you, I booked a flight. The doctor insisted I hold off flying which resulted in this..."

"You didn't even think to bring set of pajamas?" I asked and then instantly regretted it, my mind flashing back to the sight of him without his shirt, sitting in the hotel bed.

He paused for a beat. "I don't tend to wear pajamas."

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, face red.

Well... I don't really have a proper response for that.

Laurence watched me, a small smile on his face. "Are you okay?"

No. "Yes."

Laurence leaned in, his moth close to my ear as he whispered. "We don't all wear silk pajamas."

My face managed to burn brighter. "How did you—"

There was a mischievous glint in his eye, his face still close to mine. "Caught a glimpse of you this morning before you left."

"Would you believe that Allie broke into my suitcase, stole my pajamas and replaced them with those?" I asked, feeling horrified.

"Yes."

"Good. Because that's what happened." I sighed, staring at the ground. "I should have bought us both pajamas at the hotel store," I muttered.

Laurence let out a chuckle.

Turning, I soaked in his smile as he took in his clothes. "Believe it or not, I do miss wearing non suit related things."

"Lucky you that I nearly broke your arm then," I said with a laugh.

His dark eyes seemed to pin me in place. "Lucky indeed."

Before I could combust into flames, the bus sputtered to life, throwing me forward as the bus jolted out onto the road. I nearly spilled onto the ground but Laurence caught my arm, holding me in my seat, his hand hot against my skin.

"Thanks!" I shouted over the roar of the engine.

Laurence nodded, letting go of me after a beat. And before he could say anything else, I gestured to my binder by way of explanation and ducked my head in between the pages, hoping to avoid looking at him again.

After managing to hide in my binder for the entire hour bus ride, I was the first one off the bus, handing out equipment, and directions while everyone shuffled off, eager to get back into my busy comfort zone. 

Once everyone had a sacked lunch and a bottle of water, we began our hike into the rainforest, eager to get to the waterfall where our final day of shooting would begin. 

Michale took the lead, eager to get through the rainforest without 'getting attacked by an army of insects who would take one sip of my sweat blood and suck me dry,' while I walked along the narrow hiking path at the back of the pack, enjoying the way the world turned vibrant, green, birds so bright that it left me nearly breathless. 

It was like falling into a tapestry woven together with living roots, veins spun together like thread, every part of it thrumming with a wild heartbeat, alive and beating with color.

We heard the waterfall before we saw it, and the sudden uptick in mist left everyone grabbing the waterproof bags and wrapping each piece of camera equipment tight to keep it safe as we approached.

As we took a bend in the hiking path, the waterfall suddenly came into view. Wide and sparking in the morning light, sending the world sparking with color as the sun caught the mist and falling water, sending rainbows bouncing across every possible reflective surface.

The path leading to the mouth of the waterfall was a sheer, slick rock cliff, and Michale climbed it, already lost in his art, camera strap dangling at his side as he moved. I was so accustomed to his particular somewhat fussy demeanor that seeing him lost to the world, climbing over rocks with expert ease made me realize how much we each change when we come across something we desperately want. Every obstacle seems to melt away, a hinderance that causes little more than a scoff before we shove past it. 

He reached the top, took out his camera and began to take test shots, growing more excited with each glance at the back of his camera screen. 

He shot me a thumbs up, letting me know that he had a plan on how he wanted to set up the scene. Then he climbed back down and began to shout orders, having the models change behind makeshift tents while the crew set up equipment.

It all happened fast, a week of working together making everything feel second nature. I looked over the test shots that Michale had taken and we discussed tweaks as the models climbed up the cliff in pairs. Then the shoot began, leaving me standing behind a screen, taking in each shot with a bitter sweet expression.

This is it. The final day.

I had dreaded coming on the shoot. Been terrified to take charge. To grow. To change and now the idea of going back left me feeling sad. I was already itching to work on the next project.

The change inside of me left me feeling proud, and surprised as the day past in a blur. If I hadn't been brave. Taken a chance. Decided to work on myself. Asked for help, I never would have known what I was capable of.

Then in a blink of an eye, the shoot was over. Leaving me elated and sad all within a breath.

I was about to tell everyone to head back to the bus but was interrupted by Michale. "Last day picture!"

The models and crew shuffled up the rocks, picking their steps carefully and positioning themselves on the rocks next to the waterfall. Michale set his camera up in a tree before moving back to the rocks to take the picture with a remote clicker.

I watched my crew family with a proud smile as they all shuffled together, readying for a picture. 

"Lily! Get up here! You are part of this!" Michale shouted when he saw me still standing at the bottom of the rocks.

The others shouted down, adding to his demands, making me laugh. 

I like that I am part of something. I like that I am a leader others are willing to follow. I like that I love my job so much that it hurts.

I was halfway up the rocks when I heard Michale shout again. "That goes for you too Laurence. Get your polo shirt wearing self up here!"

I ignored the fact that Laurence was a step behind me as I climbed. I pretended that he wasn't shoved up against me to make room for everyone in the picture. I fought for obliviousness as his hand brushed mine as we all shuffled carefully on the rocks to strike a pose. 

Then the picture was taken and everyone began to melt back down the rocks, eager to get back to the hotel for a celebratory meal before we went home the next day.

As they began to pack up the gear, I took a moment, looking at the waterfall, enjoying the mist on my face. The feeling of accomplishment washing over me so strongly that for a moment I had to close my eyes to keep myself from crying proud tears. Instead, I let the waterfall mist my face, hiding the details of my feelings.

Then turning, I began to move down the rocks, buzzing with pride. I was so happy that I wasn't as careful as I should have been and after a bad step, began to slip, falling backward. "Lily!"

Everyone turned to stare at me. Slow motion identical sets of wide eyes all looked up at me as I fell backward, and down the other side of rocks, straight for the roaring water. And after a moment, all of their faces vanished, like a stage curtain falling on a full audience.

I didn't even have time to scream before something hit me from the side, hard and solid, making my body spin, turning the world dark blue before I slammed into the water, the crew's screams dying as I fell under.

---

Thank you for reading chapter twenty! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

Is Lily okay?

What will happen to her?

Will she get lost? Get pulled out of the water?

Who shouted her name?

What will happen next?

CHAPTER QUESTION - Have you ever gone hiking? Did you enjoy it? Where is your favorite place to hike?