Ethan woke the next morning to the persistent buzz of his phone, the bright glare of the screen stabbing his eyes. He groaned, sitting up in the hotel bed, and squinted at the notifications: a barrage of messages from Sarah, a couple from his agency, and, inevitably, social media alerts about Adrian.
The headlines were… predictably chaotic.
"New BL Film Sparks Tension Between Ethan Liu and Adrian Reyes!""On-Screen Sparks or Real Romance? Fans Speculate!""Rivals to Lovers? BL Film Cast Chemistry Goes Viral!"
Ethan threw the phone across the bed. The screen cracked slightly, but he didn't care.
Rivals to lovers? That wasn't even close to accurate. He and Adrian were rivals. Nothing more.
He swung his legs off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor. Rehearsals started in an hour. Time to face the inevitable.
The studio smelled of coffee and makeup again, but this time, there was a heightened energy. Crew members scuttled between cameras, sound equipment, and lighting rigs, moving faster than usual. Rumors from the previous night's social media storm seemed to have spread through the set. Everyone was watching, waiting for Ethan and Adrian to "explode" at each other.
Ethan tightened his tie and adjusted his blazer in the mirror. He didn't want to feed the rumor mill. He didn't want drama. He just wanted to do his job act.
But the moment he walked through the studio doors, Adrian's presence hit him like a gust of wind.
Adrian was leaning against the wall near the set, the sunlight glinting off his tousled light brown hair, his casual blazer unbuttoned in perfect nonchalance. He looked at Ethan, smirked, and raised an eyebrow.
"Morning, Mr. Perfect," Adrian said, voice smooth as silk. "Sleep well?"
Ethan forced a neutral expression. "Better than I expected. You?"
"Like a rock," Adrian said, tilting his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Dreaming about beating me, I hope?"
Ethan clenched his jaw. "I don't dream about you. Ever."
Adrian laughed softly. "Sure, sure. That's what they all say."
The director, Marco Vega, stepped into the room, clapping his hands. "Alright, everyone! Let's get to work. Today, we focus on the first act, your characters meeting for the first time. Ethan, Adrian, I want tension. Not just lines. Feel it. Live it. Make the camera want to see your conflict."
Ethan swallowed hard. Tension. Live it. That meant Adrian, smirking like he owned the world, was about to get under Ethan's skin. Again.
The first scene was simple on paper: two rivals, forced to work together at a film set, exchanging polite, formal dialogue.
But Adrian… made it complicated.
He leaned closer than necessary during the rehearsal, his voice dropping just enough to make Ethan aware of every subtle movement. Ethan noticed the warmth of Adrian's proximity, the way his eyes lingered for a second longer than required. His pulse quickened, and he hated himself for noticing.
"Focus," Ethan muttered under his breath, gripping his script.
"You're too stiff," Adrian whispered, just loud enough for Ethan to hear. "Loosen up. Relax. Pretend we're not rivals for two seconds."
Ethan's fingers trembled slightly. Pretend? Pretend was the last thing he wanted to do. Pretend might make him… feel things.
And that was dangerous.
The cameras rolled, and Ethan delivered his lines mechanically, but Adrian… Adrian infused the dialogue with life, teasing glances, subtle touches on the shoulder, laughter that was soft but cutting. Marco watched with approval.
"That's it!" Marco called. "Yes, yes! Now, Ethan, react! Don't hold back. Adrian is your opposition. Feel it!"
Ethan felt a surge of frustration. Opposition. He wanted to shove Adrian across the room, to scream, but instead, he channeled the emotion into the scene. His glare sharpened, his words clipped, every movement precise.
Adrian's smirk faltered slightly. "Hmm," he murmured, "I like this side of you."
Ethan froze. Did he just… compliment me?
He shook his head. Focus. Not the time to analyze.
After the scene wrapped, the director clapped. "Excellent! That tension was palpable. I want you two to carry this energy through the next scenes. Don't be afraid of the sparks, they're gold."
Adrian grinned at Ethan, his eyes teasing. "See? People love our tension. I think we're going to break the internet."
Ethan frowned. "I don't care about the internet."
Adrian's smirk deepened, and he leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Of course not. You're all about the art, right?"
Ethan's heart hammered in his chest. He forced himself to step back. "Art doesn't involve distractions."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Distractions? You mean me?"
Ethan didn't answer. Instead, he turned toward the exit, pretending the heat rising to his face was from the lights, not from Adrian.
Lunch break was no relief. The crew gathered around, buzzing about the viral rumors. Ethan sat alone, trying to eat, while Adrian plopped down across from him, sliding his tray onto the table.
"You're lonely," Adrian said, smirking. "Need company?"
Ethan sighed, looking away. "I don't."
"Sure," Adrian said. "You're just scared."
Ethan's hand froze mid-bite. "Scared of what?"
Adrian leaned back, eyes gleaming. "Scared that this role… this film… might make you feel things you didn't expect."
Ethan's stomach twisted. Don't let him see that it affects you. "Feelings are part of acting. Not personal."
Adrian tilted his head, pretending to consider. "Right. Of course. Just acting. Nothing real. Got it."
The words hung between them, a charged silence. Ethan wanted to leave, but a small, inexplicable part of him wanted to see how far Adrian would push.
Rehearsals resumed after lunch, this time for a more intimate scene. In the script, their characters shared a close, emotionally raw moment. Ethan's throat tightened as he read the stage directions.
"Ethan touches Adrian's arm. Adrian looks into Ethan's eyes. Their faces inch closer. The world fades."
Ethan took a deep breath. This was the moment where acting crossed into vulnerability. And Adrian… Adrian made it impossible to ignore.
"Ready?" Marco asked.
"Yes," Ethan said, though his voice was steadier than he felt.
They stepped into position. Adrian leaned slightly closer, a subtle challenge in his gaze. Ethan met it, muscles taut, heart racing.
The cameras rolled.
And then it happened. Adrian's hand brushed Ethan's arm, deliberate but casual. Ethan felt a jolt, his body betraying his mind. The scene required an emotional reaction, and he gave it—an almost-too-real gasp, a sharp intake of breath.
Adrian caught it, smirk softening into something unreadable. His eyes lingered, warm and piercing. Ethan couldn't look away.
Marco clapped. "Perfect! That's the tension, the chemistry I wanted! Keep it."
Ethan wanted to run, to escape the intensity of Adrian's gaze, but he didn't move. Something was… different. Dangerous, intoxicating, and completely unmanageable.
After rehearsals ended, Ethan returned to his dressing room, collapsing onto the chair. He pressed his face into his hands, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions.
This wasn't just acting anymore. The heat of Adrian's touch, the closeness of their bodies, the way Adrian's eyes seemed to see him… it was overwhelming.
And worse, Ethan realized, he didn't entirely hate it.
He shook his head, frustrated. No. This is just acting. Just acting.
But as he left the studio, he couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, the lines between acting and reality were already starting to blur.
By the time Ethan reached his hotel room, his phone buzzed again. Another notification.
This time, it wasn't from Sarah or his agency. It was a text from Adrian.
"See you tomorrow. Don't be late. Don't try to act tough around me."
Ethan stared at the message, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wanted to reply with something witty, something cutting, something… anything.
But all he typed was:
"…I won't."
And in that simple, two-word response, a thousand unspoken challenges, and promises, hung between them.
The game had begun.