Flying Sparks

The room was bathed in light, illuminating the vibrant green screen behind her. The director beamed with pride at the success of the shoot.

"Cut!" he exclaimed with evident joy. "That's a wrap."

He gracefully hopped off his director's seat, landing on his toes like a seasoned ballet dancer—his not-so-secret hobby.

"Thank you, Ryan, for that brilliance. Amanda, you are a goddess—have I mentioned that?" His arms moved animatedly, showering praise on everyone.

His multicolored spiky hair and adorned ears gleamed under the lights, and suspicions about his "love" preferences were well-known.

"Phew," he sighed dramatically, pretending to wipe away sweat. "All that emotion must've ruined my mascara. Jessi! Makeup STAT," he called out, striding away in his brisk fashion.

Footsteps echoed as his secretary and the makeup artist hurriedly followed him. His hands were outstretched, revealing that he was truly in his element.

Meanwhile, the star of the show, Ryan Barnes, lounged comfortably in his actor's chair, smirking with satisfaction. Accustomed to praise, he licked his lips in pride, while checking his eye-lined eyes in the mirror. They made him even more captivating.

The ladies' man was far from an eyesore, and his makeup artists guarded him with awe. As he sipped Campari on the rocks, he knew that his character, Prince Nikolas, would soon be a distant memory.

He pulled out his phone, going live on The Gram as his makeup was expertly removed. The heartthrob was basking in every moment.

His dark, clear eyes—deep cola brown, almost black—captivated, paired with a well-defined nose and red lips that curved just enough to soften his features. He was what they loved.

Amanda joined him, still in Vanessa's scarlet mid-thigh halter gown—her character's costume. She sat beside him, stretching her long, sexy legs.

"Ryan, the Black Dawn movie premiere is on Friday," she informed him casually.

"Yeah?" he sighed.

"I need you to attend with me. That means Us, together," she insisted, sitting up and turning to face him.

"Of course, I know what it means," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Wait, isn't Black Dawn that movie we did together?" he asked, his interest piqued.

She frowned, irritated. "Seriously? Is your memory that short-term?"

"Hey, I'm a really busy guy," he defended himself.

"Yeah, sure you are," she scoffed. "Ryan, I'm serious about this. Come pick me up by eight. I want us to make a grand entrance."

"Of course, Vanessa," he replied.

"It's Amanda," she corrected with a weak voice, signaling her frustration with his shenanigans.