That hit harder than Cara expected.
For a long second, neither of them said anything. The lights from the set buzzed faintly.
The crew, sensing something private unfolding, respectfully gave them distance, pretending to be busy but still listening.
Cara slowly let out a breath.
"Hahhh…" Her chest rose and fell as she tried to ground herself.
There was no denying it—something inside her hurt.
A quiet, biting sting that she couldn't name.
Why does this feel personal? It's just a scene. Just a dumb weekly task in a tv show.
Just a kiss… right?
Still, she couldn't deny the flutter of disappointment that Ross hadn't chosen her for something more... human.
She wasn't sure whether she wanted to be seen as talented or desired.
She only knew she hated feeling disposable.
And yet, despite everything, she still respected the way Ross handled it.
Cold as it was, it was honest.
She looked at him again—really looked at him.
He wasn't mocking her. He wasn't manipulating her.
