That evening's rehearsal flowed more smoothly than Mia anticipated, despite her lingering exhaustion from her culinary ordeal. Ms. Dubois had them working through the more tender, affectionate scenes between Hermia and Lysander, focusing on physical intimacy and emotional connection. Kris, as Lysander, was utterly convincing, his stage persona exuding a warmth and devotion that was almost unsettlingly real. Mia found herself responding to his cues instinctively, their movements on stage becoming a seamless, graceful dance. The line "My soul's joy! Dear, my love! Dearer than Plutus' mine!" left her feeling a strange echo of genuine emotion.
During a water break, Leo approached Mia, a sketchbook in hand. "Hey, Mia," he said, his eyes bright with genuine enthusiasm. "I was just checking out some of the student art displays in the humanities building, and I saw your piece – the one with the charcoal swirls and the hidden faces? It's phenomenal. The emotional depth is incredible."
Mia's cheeks flushed with pleasure. It was rare for anyone to recognize her more personal art pieces. "Oh, thank you, Leo," she replied, genuinely touched. "That one was... a little experimental."
"Experimental or not, it's brilliant," Leo insisted, smiling warmly. "I dabble a bit myself, mostly landscapes. But your ability to convey feeling through abstract lines is something else. Would you ever be open to sketching sometime? Or just discussing technique?"
"Yeah, definitely," Mia said, a genuine smile replacing her usual wary expression. "I'd love to. It's always good to talk art with someone who gets it."
From a few feet away, Kris, who had been seemingly engrossed in his script, suddenly cleared his throat, loud enough to draw attention. He glanced at Leo, a faint, almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes before turning to Mia. "Princess," he said, his voice cool and precise, "About that lunch. Did you remember to label the separate container with the sauce, or did you just dump it all in?" His words, seemingly about the food, carried an underlying possessiveness, a subtle claim on her attention. "I'll need to know for tomorrow's... preparations."
Mia bristled, annoyed by his interruption and his immediate shift back to "assistant mode." "It was separate, Windsor, obviously," she retorted, giving Leo an apologetic shrug. "I'm not an amateur."
Leo, a knowing smile playing on his lips, simply nodded. "No worries. See you around, Mia. Looking forward to our scenes." He gave Kris a brief, polite nod before walking away.
Ms. Dubois, observing their interactions, beamed. "Mia, Kris! That last scene, utterly captivating! The intensity, the vulnerability... it's all coming together beautifully. Keep leaning into that natural connection, alright?"
Mia forced a tight smile, trying not to cringe. "Natural connection." Sure, she thought, glancing at Kris. He merely offered Ms. Dubois a polite, charming smile, but his eyes, when they flickered to Mia, held a familiar, triumphant sparkle. He knew. He knew that the very thing that was making their stage performance compelling was the same tension that fueled their real-life rivalry. And for now, thanks to the bet, she was trapped in his orbit, both on and off stage. Day two, and the lines were already blurring with frustrating intensity.