Pairing: Rudy pankow x Athena (oc)
Warnings: fluff, talk of eating disorders, anxiety, panic attacks, childhood trauma, childhood abuse, kissing.
I've just arrived at the airport, about to leave LA and head to Charleston, South Carolina to start filming an Outer Banks original series for Netflix. When I auditioned, I honestly didn't think I'd get the role—but I did. I'll be playing Sage Winter in season 3.
I'm feeling pretty nervous, mostly because I'm the only new cast member. On top of that, I've never met the person playing my love interest, JJ Maybank. It's a little nerve-wracking knowing I'll be meeting someone for the first time and immediately jumping into kissing and romantic scenes together.
Still, I'm trying not to stress about it too much right now. I'll save the worrying for when I actually get to South Carolina.
After a while, I'm already on the plane. Security, baggage—everything's done. I settle into my seat and wait for takeoff. Once the plane lifts into the air and climbs high enough for the sunrise to spill across the sky, I pull out my phone and snap a photo of the glowing horizon through the window. I post it to Instagram, replying to a few excited comments from the cast before putting my phone away.
With the cabin quiet, I try to read as much of the script as I can. Eventually, exhaustion catches up with me, and I fall asleep. I wake up just before the plane begins its descent.
Once we land, I grab my bags from baggage claim and call an Uber, giving them the address of the apartment building where the cast will be staying. I text Jonas to let him know I'm on my way, and he replies that he'll be waiting in the lobby.
When I arrive, I collect my bags, pay the Uber driver, and head inside. Jonas is standing near the entrance.
"Hi, Athena. Nice to meet you—I'm Jonas," he says warmly. "I'm so excited to see you bring Sage to life. We'll talk more later at the table read at two o'clock. It's half past one now. Here's your apartment key—apartment number 20. I think you'll be sharing with Madelyn and Madison. If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask me or anyone on the cast or crew."
"Okay, thank you, Jonas," I say, taking the key. "And thank you so much for giving me this opportunity. It truly means a lot to me."
"That's okay, Athena. Have a great time with the cast and crew," he replies. "Bye."
I walk toward the elevator and step inside, pressing the button for the third floor. When the doors slide open, I follow the quiet hallway until I reach my apartment. I unlock the door, and before it's even halfway open, I hear footsteps moving across the hardwood floor.
I step inside, pulling my luggage in behind me.
"Oh my god, hi! I'm Madelyn—you must be Athena."
"Hi, yeah, I'm Athena. Nice to meet you," I say, smiling.
"Hey, I'm Maddison. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," I reply, giving them both a hug. I politely ask which room is mine so I can drop off my luggage and freshen up. They point to a room straight down the hall. I thank them and head that way.
Once I'm in my room, I pick out a gray patterned skirt and a pink cropped jumper, along with my undergarments and toiletries. I take everything into the bathroom and hop in the shower. Afterward, I get dressed and head back to my room to do my makeup—nothing too much, just simple and clean. I add a belt to my skirt, put on a necklace, grab my Air Forces and my bag.
I brush my hair and leave it down, then grab my phone, keys, and script. I check the time—1:50. Ten minutes to go. Thank god the table read is in this building.
I step back out into the living area where Maddison and Madelyn are waiting.
"Ready to go to the table read?" Maddison asks.
"Yeah... as ready as I'll ever be," I say, my nerves sneaking in.
"Hey, don't be nervous," Madelyn says gently. "You're going to do great. The rest of the cast is going to love you."
And for the first time since landing, I actually start to believe her.
"Okay... let's do this," I say as we head toward the elevator.
Once we reach the first floor, we walk down a long hallway that opens into a large room. Maddison reaches for the door and pushes it open. No one notices me at first—I'm tucked behind Maddison and Madelyn, and I'm a little shorter than them. Not by much... but enough.
"Hey, girls—where's Athena?" Jonas asks, completely clueless.
I can't help it—I laugh and step out from behind them.
"Hey! I'm not that short, you know," I joke.
The entire room bursts into laughter, and suddenly I'm very aware of all the eyes on me.
"Well... you are kinda short," a blond guy—who I'm pretty sure is Drew—adds, grinning.
"I am not!" I laugh back, and the room laughs with me. Just like that, the tension eases.
"Well, let's get this started, shall we?" Jonas says. "Athena, you can sit between Rudy and Madison."
"Okay," I say, walking over and taking my seat between them.
I sit there for a bit, listening as everyone settles in, until it's finally my turn to run lines with Rudy. I turn to face him and—oh my god. He's hot. Like, distractingly hot. I immediately start wondering how I'm supposed to kiss those lips on camera and not get attached.
I shove the thought to the back of my mind.
I take a breath and start my lines—the ones I memorized on the plane and ran through again just minutes ago. The room goes quiet, everyone watching us, and for a moment, the nerves fade.
This is really happening.
"Okay, JJ—you're confusing me," I say, pointing between us. "Do you want a relationship with me or not? Because you're sending me a lot of mixed signals, and I'm not a mind reader. You either want this, or you don't—but you need to tell me. I can't keep doing this."
JJ exhales, his shoulders dropping.
"Of course I do, Sage. I'm just scared. I've never done anything like this before—I've never been in a relationship. But one thing I do know is that I definitely want one with you."
And that's the end of our scene.
A round of applause fills the room, snapping me back to reality. I turn around, a little stunned, as "good job" and "that was great" echo from around the table. I hear Rudy say "well done," and I smile, quietly returning the compliment. We continue the table read until it wraps up, and by the end of it, my nerves have finally started to fade.
Afterward, chase asks if we want to head over to his, Rudy's, and JD's apartment to get to know each other. When he says get to know each other, he really means them getting to know me—and me getting to know them. Everyone agrees. I just let them know I'm going to change into something more comfortable first, so I head back to my apartment while Madelyn and Maddison go ahead to the boys' place.
I change into a pink lounge set—soft pants and a matching cropped top—slip on my Air Forces, grab my phone and keys, and head out. That's when I realize I have absolutely no idea where the boys' apartment is. Since I don't have anyone's number yet, I DM Madison. She replies almost instantly, telling me she'll send someone to come get me.
I wait outside my apartment door, texting my mum to let her know I arrived safely. Then I text Amelia, telling her I've landed, settled in, and met the cast. Everything still feels a little unreal.
Suddenly, I feel a light tap on my shoulder.
I turn around... and see—
I turn around and see Rudy standing behind me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. Butterflies instantly erupt in my stomach.
Oh my god, Athena—snap out of it. He's your co-star.
"Hey," he says softly. "Sorry to pull you away from everyone, but I don't actually know where your apartment is."
"That's okay," I reply, forcing myself to sound normal. "It's just up here—apartment 17."
"Perfect," Rudy says, smiling.
We start walking down the hallway side by side. Our hands brush a few times, and every single time it happens, my heart flips. I can feel myself blushing, heat rushing to my cheeks.
When we reach their apartment, panic sets in.
Oh no. No, no, no. I cannot walk in there looking like this.
"I—I need to call my mum," I blurt out, grasping at the first excuse I can think of.
Rudy raises an eyebrow. "You coming in?"
"Yeah, just one minute," I say quickly. "I need to let her know I landed safely. I'll be right there."
"Okay," he says. "See you in a minute."
He disappears inside, and I immediately pretend to be on the phone, holding it up to my ear. I switch to the front camera to check my face—thankfully, the blush has faded to just a hint. I fake a goodbye to my mum, knock on the door, and straighten myself.
Austin opens it. "Hey, Athena," he says, stepping aside to let me in.
"Hi, Austin," I smile as I walk past him.
I enter the living room and see the rest of the cast—plus Lilah, Jonas's daughter—spread out around the space.
"Athena's here!" Maddison announces.
"Hi, guys," I say with a small wave.
Maddison and Madelyn reintroduce me to everyone, and I ask for everyone's numbers since I don't have them yet. Phones come out, contacts are exchanged, and Madelyn adds me to the group chat.
I keep catching myself staring at Rudy. A few times, I notice him staring back, and every time it happens, my stomach flips again.
Athena, stop it. He's your co-star. Nothing more, I scold myself.
"So, Athena," Johnathan says, smiling, "tell us more about yourself."
I shrug. "There's not much, really. I'm 20, an only child, and this is my first big acting role. I watched OBX seasons one and two and loved them, but I never thought I'd actually get a role on the show. I sing sometimes—just as a hobby, not a career. I grew up in LA, but I wasn't born there. I moved when I was three. I lived in Australia for a few years, and I also lived in Alaska."
I shrug again. "That's pretty much it."
"Are you kidding?" Drew blurts out.
"Rudy lived in Alaska too," Chase says.
"Really?" I look at Rudy, surprised.
"Yeah," he says. "Pretty much my whole life."
"How old were you when you lived in Australia and Alaska?" Bailey asks.
"Ten when I lived in Australia, fifteen when I lived in Alaska," I reply.
"Woah," Austin says. "That's crazy. You and Rudy probably passed each other on the street."
"Probably," I laugh. "But if he saw me back then, he definitely wouldn't have recognised me. I had braces and everything."
"That's actually really cool," they all say at once.
We spend more time talking and getting to know each other, and I snap a few pictures of everyone to post on Instagram.
"Never Have I Ever?" Maddison suggests.
We all agree and sit down. I end up seated between Maddison and Rudy.
"I'll go first," Austin says. "Never have I ever made out with someone."
Everyone drinks—except me. I fidget with the waistband of my joggers as all eyes turn to me.
"Thea," Madelyn says gently, "you've never made out with anyone?"
I shake my head. "No. Never."
Johnathan jumps in smoothly. "Okay, next one."
I shoot him a grateful look.
"Never have I ever gotten drunk and gotten a tattoo or piercing," Madelyn says.
I drink, along with a few others.
Everyone starts explaining their stories, and then it's my turn.
"Okay, you might be shocked," I say, laughing. "But I went to a party in high school, got drunk, and decided it was a great idea to get a tattoo. So I did—along with a few friends."
"Can we see it?" Rudy asks.
"Yeah, sure," I say, standing up. "Just... don't mind where it is."
I tug my pants down slightly, revealing two small butterflies tattooed on my thigh.
"Oh my god, I love it," Maddison says.
"That's so cool," Lilah adds. "I wish my dad would let me do that."
We keep playing, and I keep drinking—until I'm definitely a little drunk. I suddenly stand up.
"Guys," I slur, grinning, "it's raining. We should go dance in it."
I take off toward the door.
"She's drunk," I hear Drew and Rudy say at the same time.
"Yeah, definitely," someone laughs.
By the time they catch up to me, I'm already waiting for the elevator.
Outside, I'm the first to run into the rain. I spin and dance, laughing, completely carefree. In that moment, I'm just happy—happy to be here, happy to have found my people.
Afterward, soaked and laughing, we head back up to Rudy, Chase, and Johnathan's apartment. I grab another drink and sink down onto the couch. Halfway through it, my eyelids start to feel heavy.
Before I realise it, my head tilts, and I slowly fall asleep on someone's shoulder.
I'm halfway through a conversation when I feel Athena's weight shift against me.
At first, I think she's just leaning closer—but then her breathing evens out, warm and slow against my shoulder. I glance down and realise she's fallen asleep.
She looks peaceful like this, lashes resting against her cheeks, lips slightly parted. I adjust my arm carefully so she's more comfortable, letting her head rest fully against me. No one says anything at first, but I can feel Maddison's eyes on us.
After a few minutes, Madelyn leans over. "Rudy," she whispers, smiling softly, "do you think you could carry Athena back to our apartment?"
I hesitate for half a second—then nod. "Yeah. Of course."
Everyone clears a little space as I carefully stand, lifting Athena into my arms. She stirs slightly, mumbling something incoherent, and instinctively curls closer to me. My chest tightens.
Lilah grabs her overnight bag. "I'm sleeping over too—it's already one a.m."
"Good call," I say quietly.
The walk to the girls' apartment is silent, the hallway dim and calm. Athena's head rests against my chest, her hand fisted lightly in my shirt like she trusts me not to disappear.
When we arrive, Madelyn opens the door and motions me inside. "Her room's down the hall—second door on the left."
I carry Athena to her room, pushing the door open with my foot. It's cozy—soft lighting, neatly made bed, a few personal touches that already say so much about her.
I lower her gently onto the mattress, taking my time as I slip her shoes off. I pull the covers over her, then carefully turn her onto her side, just in case. She sighs softly but doesn't wake.
I stand there for a moment longer than necessary, watching her breathe.
"Goodnight, Athena," I murmur, barely audible.
I turn the light off and close the door quietly.
"Night, Rudy," Bailey says softly from the couch.
"Goodnight," Maddison adds. Lilah waves sleepily.
I head back to my apartment alone. When I get there, it's quiet—too quiet. Drew and Austin must've already gone back to theirs, and Chase and Johnathan are probably asleep in their room.
I brush my teeth, change out of my clothes until I'm just in my boxers, then climb into bed. My mind won't shut off.
I close my eyes—and the last thing I picture is Athena asleep on my shoulder, like she belonged there.
I don't sleep as easily as I should.
I wake up once in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling, replaying the way Athena fit against me like it was instinct—like it had always been that way. I tell myself it's nothing. That she was drunk. That I was just being decent.
Still, when I finally fall back asleep, she's there in my dreams.
Sunlight pulls me out of sleep slowly. My head throbs just enough to remind me I definitely drank more than I should have, and my mouth feels dry. There's a familiar tightness in my stomach—not pain, just that uneasy awareness I've learned to notice instead of fear. I breathe through it, the way my therapist taught me, grounding myself before panic can set in.
I groan softly and roll onto my back, blinking up at the ceiling.
This isn't my bed back home.
Memory crashes in all at once—dancing in the rain, laughing too hard, grabbing another drink, sitting next to Rudy—
I sit up too fast and immediately regret it, a wave of dizziness washing over me. I pause, letting it pass, reminding myself to move slowly. When I glance down, I realise my shoes are gone. I'm tucked neatly under the covers, turned onto my side like someone actually thought about me. Like someone made sure I was safe.
My chest tightens, my heart picking up pace.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and step into the living room. Maddison is already awake, sipping coffee. Lilah is curled up beside her, wrapped in a blanket, still asleep.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Maddison smirks.
"I—" I rub my temples, keeping my voice light. "How did I get here?"
She raises an eyebrow. "You don't remember?"
"You fell asleep on Rudy," she says casually. "Like, fully out. He carried you home."
My breath catches. "He... what?"
"He wouldn't let anyone else move you," she adds more softly. "He was really careful, Athena."
Heat floods my face, a rush of embarrassment mixed with something warmer I don't quite want to name. "Oh my god."
Maddison laughs. "You're welcome. Go get ready—we're meeting everyone for breakfast."
The word lands heavier than it should, but I keep my expression steady, nodding like it's nothing. I've learned how to do that—how to carry things quietly.
"Yeah," I say, forcing a small smile. "I'll be right there."
As I turn back toward the bedroom, my heart is still racing—but this time, it's not just nerves. It's the strange comfort of knowing someone took care of me when I wasn't fully there to do it myself.
The café is already buzzing when we walk in—warm, loud, full of the smell of coffee and buttered toast. Everyone piles into a long booth, menus passed around, conversations overlapping.
I slide in near the end, keeping myself small.
Breakfast menus always look harmless to everyone else. To me, they're loud. Too many options. Too many thoughts trying to talk over each other.
Don't overthink it. You're okay. You've done this before.
I scan the menu slowly, forcing myself to breathe evenly. My hands feel a little shaky, so I tuck them under the table. No one notices. No one ever does.
Rudy sits down across from me, stretching his arms before glancing at his menu.
"Honestly," he says casually, "I'm starving, but I don't want anything heavy. I might just get something simple."
Something loosens in my chest.
"Yeah," I say, keeping my tone neutral. "Simple sounds good."
He looks up at me and smiles—easy, unthinking. "You good?"
I nod quickly. "Yeah. Just tired."
"Same," he says. "Rain dancing really took it out of me."
The server comes by, and everyone starts ordering. I wait, listening, my heartbeat loud in my ears. When it's my turn, the words stick for half a second—but then Rudy speaks up beside me.
"I'm getting scrambled eggs and toast," he says. "Nothing fancy."
"I'll... do the same," I say, surprised at myself for not hesitating.
The server scribbles it down and moves on.
No one reacts. No one looks at me differently. The moment passes like it's nothing—but it feels like something to me.
Rudy leans back, stretching again. "Good choice," he says lightly. "That's my go-to when my stomach's off."
I swallow, nodding. "Yeah. Mine too."
He doesn't know what that costs me. He doesn't know what it means that I didn't change my mind. That I didn't make an excuse. That I didn't pretend I wasn't hungry.
He just keeps talking—about filming, about how tired Chase looks, about how Maddison somehow always steals everyone's fries. Normal things. Safe things.
When the food arrives, my plate sits in front of me like a quiet challenge. I stare at it for half a second too long.
Rudy notices—but not in the way I expect.
He grabs his fork and starts eating immediately, relaxed, unbothered. "God, this hits," he says. "I forgot how good plain food can be."
Conversation flows around us, and slowly, the noise in my head fades into the background. My shoulders relax without me realising it.
At one point, Rudy leans over slightly. "Hey," he says quietly, "if you're still tired after this, we've got a break before rehearsals. You can totally disappear for a bit."
Something warm settles in my chest—not sharp, not overwhelming. Just steady.
"Thanks," I say softly. "That sounds nice."
He smiles again, unaware of how much that small kindness matters.
And for the first time in a while, eating feels less like a battle—and more like just another moment I'm allowed to exist in.
I don't finish everything on my plate.
No one comments. No one watches. The world doesn't tilt or collapse the way my brain sometimes tells me it will. When I set my fork down, my hands are steady. My chest feels lighter—like I've done something brave without anyone clapping for it.
I excuse myself to the bathroom, needing a moment alone.
Inside, I lock the door and lean against the sink, staring at my reflection. I look... normal. Tired, maybe. A little flushed. But real.
"I did it," I whisper to myself, barely audible.
It's not perfect. It never is.
I splash water on my face and breathe. In for four. Out for six. Then I straighten my shoulders and head back out like nothing happened.
She's quieter than she was last night.
Not withdrawn—just softer, like she's conserving energy. I notice the way she listens more than she talks, the way she smiles without forcing it. It's not something I can explain, just something I feel.
When everyone gets up to leave, she lingers behind, slipping her phone into her pocket.
"You okay?" I ask gently, keeping my voice casual.
She looks surprised for a second, then nods. "Yeah. Just... low energy."
I believe her. But there's something in her eyes that tells me there's more—something she's carrying alone.
"Well," I say, shrugging, "we've got a little time before rehearsals. Want to walk back together?"
She hesitates, then smiles. "Yeah. I'd like that."
The walk back is quiet in the best way. No pressure to fill the space. Just footsteps and the distant sound of traffic.
"Thanks," I say suddenly.
"For... this morning. For not making it weird. Or loud."
He glances at me, confused. "I didn't do anything."
I smile to myself. "You kind of did."
He lets that sit, nodding slowly like he doesn't need to understand it to respect it.
When we reach the building, I stop before going inside. My heart starts racing—not fear this time, just nerves.
"There's something about me you don't know." I pause. "About why mornings are sometimes... harder."
He doesn't rush me. Doesn't interrupt.
"You don't have to tell me," he says immediately. "But if you ever want to—I'm here."
The words hit deeper than anything else could have.
"I'm in recovery," I say quietly. "From an eating disorder."
He doesn't react the way I expect. No shock. No pity. No awkward sympathy.
"Okay," he says softly. "Thank you for trusting me with that."
I blink, throat tight. "You're... not weirded out?"
"No," he says firmly. "I'm glad you're taking care of yourself. And I'm glad you told me."
I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding.
"I don't want anyone else to know," I add quickly.
"Your secret's safe," he says. "I won't say a word."
Then, after a beat, he adds, "And just so you know—you don't owe anyone perfection. Ever."
Something in my chest shifts.
Watching her walk inside, I realise something quietly, clearly.
I don't want to save her.
I just want to be someone who makes things a little easier without her having to ask.
And somehow, that feels bigger than anything I've ever wanted before.
Rudy doesn't make it obvious.
That's the thing—I almost don't notice it at first.
But slowly, I realise he always ends up near me on set. Not hovering. Just... present. He times his breaks with mine. When catering is chaotic, he casually suggests grabbing something later, somewhere quieter. When scenes run long and my energy dips, he finds a reason to sit with me in the shade.
To everyone else, it probably just looks like two co-stars getting along.
To me, it feels like being quietly protected without being exposed.
One afternoon, after a particularly long take, I feel it creeping in—that tight, familiar spiral in my chest. My body feels heavy, wrong, like I've taken up too much space. My thoughts start getting sharp.
You shouldn't have eaten that.
You don't deserve a break.
I excuse myself to the bathroom, locking the door and gripping the sink until my knuckles go white. I stare at my reflection, heart racing.
But this time, I don't let it take over.
I text Maddison something casual so no one worries. Then I breathe. In. Out. Slow. I remind myself of the morning. Of the win. Of the fact that one hard moment doesn't erase progress.
When I step back outside, Rudy looks up immediately.
"You good?" he asks quietly.
I hesitate—then nod. "Yeah. Just needed air."
He doesn't push. Just hands me a cold water bottle like it's the most normal thing in the world.
"Hydration check," he says lightly.
I smile despite myself. "Thanks."
Everyone orders food back at the apartment, and suddenly the room feels too loud, too much. My appetite disappears, panic replacing it. I pick at my plate, hoping no one notices.
Not in a calling-you-out way. In a sitting beside you and lowering the volume of the world way.
"Hey," he murmurs, barely audible. "Want to watch something stupid later? Like... really stupid."
I let out a breath. "Yeah. That sounds nice."
Later, curled up on opposite ends of the couch, a dumb movie playing in the background, I finally admit it.
"I had a rough moment today," I say quietly.
He turns toward me, fully attentive. "But you got through it."
"Barely still counts," he says without hesitation.
Something in my chest softens.
"I'm proud of you," he adds, gently.
I blink fast, pretending the screen is blurry. "You don't even know what I was fighting."
"I don't need to," he replies. "I just know it mattered."
Everyone else has gone to bed. The apartment is quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the low volume of the TV.
I'm sitting cross-legged on the couch, absently pulling at the sleeve of my hoodie.
"I don't think I've ever let someone see this part of me before. Not without feeling... ashamed."
He studies me for a long moment. "I don't see anything shameful."
I laugh softly. "That's because you're not inside my head."
"Maybe," he says. Then, more seriously, "But I see you. And I care about you."
The words land heavier than anything else he's said.
My heart starts racing—not fear. Truth.
"I think I'm starting to—" I stop myself, breath catching.
He leans closer, voice barely above a whisper. "Me too."
I look at him, really look at him. The warmth. The steadiness. The way he's never once made me feel like I was too much.
"I know," he says gently. "We don't have to rush. We don't have to label anything. We can just... be careful with each other."
I nod, eyes burning. "I'd like that."
He reaches out—not to pull me closer, not to cross a line—just to rest his hand over mine.
It's simple. It's everything.
And for the first time in a long time, the future doesn't feel terrifying.
It happens on a long filming day.
Everyone's tired. The air feels heavy, stretched thin by heat and too many takes. We're sitting under a canopy during a break when someone—one of the crew, laughing, careless—says it.
"She barely touched catering earlier. How does she even have energy?"
It's said like a joke. Light. Thoughtless.
I keep my face neutral, fingers tightening around my water bottle. Years of practice kick in—don't react, don't draw attention, don't let it show.
He straightens instantly. "Hey," he says, calm but firm. Not loud. Just enough to cut through the noise. "That's not cool."
The conversation falters.
"I didn't mean anything by it," the guy shrugs. "Just saying."
Rudy doesn't smile. "Yeah, well—don't."
Then, casually, like he's changing the subject, Rudy adds, "Everyone handles long days differently. Maybe let people exist without commentary."
The moment passes. Someone laughs awkwardly, another person changes the subject, and just like that, it's over.
But my chest is tight, full, almost painful.
Later, when the sun starts dipping low and everyone begins packing up, I find Rudy by the trailers, leaning against one with his arms crossed.
There's a pause. One of those ones that carries weight.
"Earlier," I start, then stop. My voice feels too small. "You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did," he says immediately.
I swallow. "You didn't even ask if I wanted—"
"I know," he interrupts gently. "That's why I did it the way I did."
"I wasn't trying to speak for you," he says. "I just... didn't want anyone making you feel watched. Or explained."
Something inside me cracks open.
He studies my face, searching, like he's checking for something fragile. "Did it upset you?"
I shake my head. "It would've—before. Today it just... reminded me I'm not invisible."
His expression softens. "You shouldn't be."
The words hang between us.
"I don't want to overstep," he says carefully. "But if anyone ever makes you uncomfortable—about food, about your body, about anything—you don't have to deal with it alone. Okay?"
My heart is pounding now. Loud. Unruly.
"Rudy," I say, barely steady. "Why do you care so much?"
He exhales slowly, like he's been holding that breath for days.
"I think," he starts, then stops. Runs a hand through his hair. "I think I'm getting to a point where pretending I don't... isn't really working anymore."
My breath catches. "Pretending you don't what?"
He looks at me then—really looks at me—and the world feels suddenly too quiet.
"That I—" He stops himself, jaw tightening. "I don't want to rush you. Or scare you. Or make this harder than it already is."
I step closer without realising I'm moving. "You wouldn't."
His voice drops. "Athena, I care about you. More than I probably should."
"I care about you too," I admit. "I just... I'm still learning how to let people stay."
We stand there, inches apart. Close enough to feel the warmth of each other. Close enough that if either of us moved just a little—
Neither do I. Instead, he reaches out and rests his forehead lightly against mine.
"No pressure," he murmurs. "Just... honesty."
I close my eyes. "That's more than enough."
And even without the words fully said—without the confession spoken out loud—I know.
This isn't almost anything.
My phone starts vibrating nonstop in my hand.
I glance down and my stomach drops—ten missed calls, eight messages from Mum, five missed calls and three messages from Amelia.
"I—I need the bathroom," I mumble quickly, already backing away before anyone can question it.
I step into the hallway and open the messages.
They all say the same thing.
My hands shake as I press call.
"Hi, Mum," I say, forcing my voice steady. "What's wrong? I saw your messages—what's going on?"
There's a pause on the other end. Then—
"Athena, baby," she says softly. "Your dad is out. He's back. He wants to see you."
My breath leaves my lungs.
"I told him he's not going anywhere near you," she continues quickly. "After what he did, I won't let him. But he's not listening. I promise you—I'll protect you as much as I can."
"Please," I whisper. "Please just make sure you're safe, Mum. I don't care what he does to me—I just don't want him hurting you."
"I've got to go," I choke out. "I love you."
I don't realise I'm crying until my vision blurs.
I wander down the hallway, trying to find a bathroom, wiping my face with my sleeve, when Maddison appears.
"Thea?" she says gently. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I say too fast, not looking at her. "I'm okay, I promise. You can go back to rehearsing. Thank you though."
She hesitates—but nods. "Okay. I'm here if you need me."
She disappears back into the room.
A few minutes later, I hear voices approaching—everyone. Panic hits. I turn quickly and duck into a small, empty room, shutting the door behind me.
"Hey," she answers instantly.
"He's back," I break. "When will he ever leave me alone? I'm so sick of his shit, Amelia. After everything he's done—I'm just... I hate him. He even ruined my first rehearsal for my first lead role. I was there when I found out."
"Hey," she says firmly. "Listen to me. He doesn't get to ruin anything unless you let him. I promise you that. You go back out there. You don't let him take this from you. I'll call you later, okay?"
I sniff. "Okay. Thank you. I love you."
"I love you too, Lena. Talk later."
I end the call and sit there, wiping my eyes, breathing until my chest stops hurting.
I stand as the group walks in, concern written all over their faces.
"What happened, Thea?" Madelyn asks softly.
"It's nothing you need to worry about right now," I say quickly. "I'll tell you later—I promise."
She gives me a look. "Okay. But remember that. I will hold you to it."
I manage a small smile. "Deal."
Then I straighten. "Alright. Let's go back to rehearsing—we are filming a Netflix series here."
A few laughs break the tension, and we head back into the room.
Jonas and Lilah are there, both looking worried.
"I'm okay," I reassure them. "I promise. But Jonas—can I talk to you for a second?"
"Of course," he says, standing. We step into the corridor.
"I was just wondering," I say carefully, "how you want Rudy and me to rehearse this scene. Did you want us to save the physical contact for filming?"
Jonas considers it. "You can rehearse the physical side today if you're both comfortable. That way we can do a chemistry read too."
"I'm okay with it," I say honestly. "I just don't know about Rudy."
Jonas nods. "Let's ask him."
He calls out, "Rudy, can you come here for a sec?"
Oh my god, I think. This is going to make my stupid little crush so much worse. Why does he have to be... him?
Rudy approaches, concern flickering across his face the second he sees me.
"Hey," he says softly. "What's up?"
Jonas gestures between us. "Would you be comfortable rehearsing the physical side of the scene today? Athena's okay with it, but I wanted to check with you."
Rudy doesn't answer right away.
Not my body. Not the scene.
"Are you okay with it?" he asks quietly, just for me.
I hesitate—then nod. "Yeah."
His jaw tightens slightly, protective without being obvious.
"Then yeah," he says. "I'm okay with it."
Something in my chest loosens.
"Alright," Jonas smiles. "Let's give it a try."
As we walk back into the room, Rudy leans in just enough for only me to hear.
"If you change your mind at any point," he murmurs, "we stop. No questions."
And for the first time since the call, I feel like I can breathe again.
The room goes quiet as Jonas calls for places.
Rudy and I stand a few feet apart, scripts in hand. The scene isn't even heavy on paper—just proximity, tension, unspoken emotion—but suddenly it feels like everything is amplified.
"Whenever you're ready," Jonas says.
Rudy takes a slow breath. I mirror it without realising.
We start with the dialogue, voices steady, professional. Then Jonas gently interrupts.
"Let's add the physical beats."
Rudy doesn't move right away. Instead, he shifts closer—but slowly. Deliberately. Like he's giving me time to decide.
"Okay?" he murmurs under his breath.
He reaches for my hand—not grabbing, not sudden. Just his fingers brushing mine first, checking. When I don't pull away, he lets his hand settle properly, warm and grounding.
Something inside me trembles—not fear, not panic. Just the weight of everything I've been carrying.
The scene calls for him to step closer. He does, stopping just short, waiting.
"You're tense," he says, in character—but his eyes flick to mine, checking if that line lands too close to home.
He lifts his hand to my arm, thumb brushing once—soft, careful.
And that's when it happens.
Not enough for anyone else to notice. Just enough that he does.
His hand doesn't move away—but it doesn't press further either.
"Cut," Jonas says after a moment. "That was... really good. Let's take five."
Rudy steps back instantly, giving me space. "You okay?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah," I say automatically.
He doesn't look convinced.
During the break, he stays near—but not crowding me. I can feel his attention like a steady presence, not intrusive, just there.
When everyone disperses for water and snacks, he finally speaks again.
"You don't have to explain anything," he says, low. "But something's going on."
I shake my head. "I'm fine. Just... a lot today."
Then, softer: "Just know I'm not going to push you. Ever."
Okay so this isn’t proof read, it’s also not perfect, I did write this at the age of 15. So Ofc it won’t be perfect. I have edited it to make it less cringey. But I hope y’all are having a good day! Mwah
