By now, it wasn't just a theory—it was a movement. The Ashdres fandom, once quiet and hopeful, had grown into something loud and unshakable. The matching outfits, the Instagram stories, the way their eyes lingered a beat too long on-screen—it had all stacked into undeniable proof.
Ashtine noticed it first the moment she stepped out of her van into the studio lot. A fan had left flowers—white chrysanthemums with a tiny card that read, "To the two people who make pretending look too real." She tucked the card into her bag without showing it to anyone. But her fingers lingered on the petals a moment longer than necessary.
Meanwhile, Andres was dealing with a different kind of proof. His cousin had texted him a screenshot of a viral tweet from the night before: "At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if they dropped wedding photos and said it was a 'scripted moment.'" The post had nearly a million likes. He'd laughed. And then paused.
Because under all the edits, memes, and fangirl screams, there was something even he couldn't deny anymore.
They were giving people a reason to believe.
—
Filming resumed with high-intensity emotional scenes. Their characters were finally reaching the arc where tension gave way to closeness. It was subtle—a touch to the shoulder that lasted longer than needed, a look that softened too quickly, lines whispered instead of spoken.
"Cut!" the director called, after one particularly powerful scene where Andres' character leaned across the desk, eyes locked on Ashtine's. "That was... unreal. Let's take five."
Ashtine blinked slowly, still half in the moment. She looked at Andres, who hadn't broken eye contact even after the director yelled cut. For a heartbeat, the world stilled.
"You good?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "Yeah. Just... you felt that too, right?"
She didn't answer. But the look in her eyes told him everything.
—
Back in the dressing room, her phone vibrated non-stop. Notifications flooded in. A fan had clipped the scene seconds after it aired live during a sneak peek event. It was already everywhere.
@ashdresupdates: "THIS LOOK. THIS CHEMISTRY. THEY'RE NOT ACTING ANYMORE I SWEAR."
@sceneobsessed: "Andres looks like he's about to kiss her between every line. The tension? Criminal."
Even people outside the fandom were starting to pay attention. Critics praised their dynamic. One magazine article titled, "Ashdres: The Ship That Sailed Without Permission" was being passed around the set.
"Everyone's obsessed," Ciara said, dropping into the couch across from her. "I mean, can you blame them?"
Ashtine raised an eyebrow. "You too?"
Ciara grinned. "Girl, I sit behind the monitor. I've seen the way he looks at you."
—
Later that evening, after wrap, Andres posted something rare.
It was a photo of their script pages—torn at the corners, scribbled with notes, coffee stains in the margins. In the center, he had underlined one line in highlighter.
"I think I'm falling for you."
No caption. No tag. But anyone who'd watched the recent episode would know.
Ten minutes later, Ashtine uploaded a story. A boomerang of her hand closing the same script. The bracelet was visible. In the background, the same line was seen faintly highlighted.
It wasn't subtle anymore.
—
The next morning, as they stepped onto set, applause broke out.
Crew members clapped. Someone whistled. Even the producer joined in with a wink. "You two trending again?"
Andres rolled his eyes but smiled. "Was there ever a time we weren't?"
Ashtine pretended to be annoyed but she was glowing under the studio lights. And as they walked side by side toward their next scene, their shoulders brushed. Neither moved away.
That day, a fan tweeted:
"They used to say we were delusional for shipping them. Now the delusion is canon."
And honestly?
No one argued.
Not anymore.