Adrian woke up before his alarm went off.
For a second, in the soft blur of dawn filtering through his curtains, he thought it was just another morning. Another day where the biggest thing on his agenda would be answering a few interview questions, maybe flipping through a script with coffee in hand, or texting Kevin to nag him about scheduling. But then the memories of yesterday came rushing back, and his chest tightened like someone had dropped a boulder there.
The script.
The title flashed across his mind like neon: Hearts in Bloom. A love story. No, not just a love story. A Boys' Love story. With him as the main lead. And, to his absolute horror, Julian as his partner.
Julian.
The very name sent a spark of irritation across Adrian's nerves. It had been like this ever since childhood his rival's presence infecting every milestone of his life, like a thorn lodged under his skin that never healed. And now, not content with haunting his past, Julian was about to invade his present in the most humiliating, absurd, impossible way imaginable.
Adrian pressed his palms over his face and groaned.
He was supposed to play Julian's lover. His lover. Say lines of devotion, look at him with longing, maybe even Adrian's stomach twisted violently kiss him.
The thought alone nearly made him bury his head under the blanket and refuse to face the world. But that wasn't who Adrian was. He had been competing with Julian all his life. To back out now would mean surrender. And he wasn't going to hand Julian that satisfaction.
No, he'd show up. He'd act. He'd prove that he was better, even in a genre as treacherous as this one.
Still, the dread crawled over him like a cold sweat.
Dragging himself out of bed, he went through the motions of showering, brushing his teeth, and throwing on comfortable clothes. Each action felt exaggeratedly heavy, as if the weight of the day already sat on his shoulders. He caught his reflection in the mirror while drying his hair, and he almost didn't recognize himself. His face looked paler than usual, eyes too sharp, lips pressed thin.
"You're fine," he muttered to his reflection. "It's just acting. It's not real."
But the words didn't stick. They slipped through his mind like water through a sieve.
By the time he arrived at the studio, his nerves were frayed enough that Kevin's cheerful wave felt like a slap.
"Morning, superstar," Kevin said, striding over in his ever-relaxed manner. His clipboard was tucked under one arm, and his smile was far too smug for Adrian's comfort.
Adrian narrowed his eyes. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Kevin blinked innocently. "Enjoying what?"
"Don't play dumb. You knew exactly what kind of role this was. You tricked me into this mess."
Kevin clucked his tongue. "Tricked is such a strong word. I prefer… persuaded. And honestly, what's the big deal? You always say you want to push yourself as an actor. This is pushing."
"Pushing me into an early grave," Adrian muttered.
Kevin only laughed, steering him toward the dressing room. "Relax. You'll thank me when you win awards for this."
Adrian doubted that very much.
The dressing room was already bustling with stylists and assistants. As soon as he stepped inside, they swarmed around him, guiding him to the chair in front of the mirror. The makeup artist began working on his face, smoothing foundation, adjusting his brows, dusting a faint flush across his cheeks.
Adrian studied himself in the mirror, watching as his usual sharp edges softened under their brushes. They weren't just preparing him as Adrian the actor, they were transforming him into Adrian's character.
The character's name was Elias. A florist who believed in second chances, someone tender yet resilient, whose heart had been bruised but still bloomed with hope. Elias was nothing like him, and yet… Adrian had to embody him fully.
And opposite Elias would be Julian's character: Marcus, a quiet writer who carried his loneliness like a cloak, who found light in Elias's warmth.
It made Adrian want to laugh bitterly. Who in their right mind thought he and Julian could play such roles convincingly?
The wardrobe stylist arrived next, presenting him with the costume: a simple yet elegant shirt, soft-toned trousers, and an apron that looked straight out of a quaint flower shop. Adrian hesitated as he put it on, feeling strangely exposed in its simplicity. He was used to costumes that made him feel powerful, period dramas, grand suits, dramatic coats. This, though, was vulnerable. Open.
When he was finally finished, Kevin gave him a once-over and grinned. "Perfect. You actually look approachable for once."
Adrian shot him a glare.
But then the door opened, and all air seemed to drain from the room.
Julian walked in.
He was already half in costume, his dark shirt rolled at the sleeves, suspenders framing his torso. His hair had been styled just messy enough to look effortless, and his expression was the same infuriating mix of ease and confidence that had haunted Adrian for years.
The crew lit up at his entrance, greeting him warmly, as though the very room bent toward him. Adrian's jaw tightened.
Julian's gaze swept the room until it landed on him. And then, as if on cue, that smirk appeared. The one that had been tormenting Adrian since kindergarten.
"Nice apron," Julian drawled.
Heat rushed to Adrian's face before he could stop it. He forced a scoff. "Nice suspenders. You look like you stepped out of a farmer's calendar."
Julian chuckled, unbothered.
It was going to be a long day.
The set was even worse.
When Adrian stepped into the studio space, he was stunned by how real it looked. The florist shop was meticulously recreated: shelves brimming with vibrant flowers, sunlight streaming through carefully placed windows, the scent of roses and lilies filling the air. It was beautiful, too beautiful. And it immediately made his chest tighten with the weight of what he had to do here.
Director Liang stood at the center, commanding attention with his calm authority. He gestured for everyone to gather.
"Today," Liang began, "we're starting with a simple scene. Elias and Marcus meet for the first time in the shop. Nothing complicated. Just dialogue, eye contact, and atmosphere."
Eye contact. Adrian's stomach twisted.
As cameras rolled into place, Adrian took his position behind the counter. He fiddled with the cash register, trying to focus on the fake buttons, on the vase beside him, on anything other than the fact that Julian was about to walk in.
And then Julian did.
The door opened, the little bell chimed, and Julian entered with that maddening natural grace, as if he wasn't acting at all. His eyes lifted, and for a moment, their gazes locked.
Adrian forgot his line.
The silence stretched a beat too long. The crew shifted, the camera operator cleared his throat, and Liang finally called, "Cut."
Adrian blinked, mortified.
"Sorry," he muttered.
Julian, of course, looked amused. "Nerves already?"
Adrian grit his teeth.
They tried again. And again. Each time, Adrian stumbled not on the lines themselves, but on the delivery. He couldn't bring himself to look at Julian properly. Couldn't muster the softness Elias was supposed to carry. His chest felt tight, his throat stiff.
After the fifth failed take, Liang sighed and waved his hand. "Pause. Adrian, come here."
Adrian obeyed reluctantly, approaching the director.
Liang studied him for a long moment. "You're tense. Acting isn't about reciting words; it's about trust. Chemistry. Right now, you're building a wall."
Adrian clenched his jaw.
"You need to let it down," Liang continued. "You and Julian have to connect, or this film won't work."
The words hit harder than Adrian expected. Connect. With Julian? The very idea felt absurd. But Liang's gaze was steady, unyielding.
"Understood," Adrian said stiffly.
"Good. Take a break. Then I want the two of you to rehearse privately. No cameras, no crew. Just find the rhythm together."
Adrian's heart sank.
Moments later, he found himself cornered with Julian in a quieter corner of the set, away from prying eyes. The florist shop backdrop loomed around them, but here it felt too intimate, too close.
Julian leaned casually against a counter, arms folded. "So. Private rehearsal. Sounds romantic."
Adrian bristled. "Don't flatter yourself. This is work."
"Of course." Julian tilted his head, that infuriating smirk playing at his lips. "Then let's work."
They started.
Julian slipped effortlessly into character, his voice low and warm as he delivered Marcus's lines. He looked at Adrian as though Elias really was the light of his world. And Adrian, he felt his carefully built defenses crack.
Every glance, every word, every slight smile sent his thoughts spiraling. He told himself it was just Julian being good at acting. Just technique. Just performance. But his chest betrayed him, tightening every time Julian's eyes lingered.
At one point, Adrian moved too quickly, knocking into the vase on the counter. It wobbled, threatening to fall, and instinctively, Julian reached out, catching it and in the same motion, catching Adrian's wrist.
The touch froze him.
Warm. Firm. Real.
Adrian's heart thundered against his ribs, far too loud, too wild. He yanked his hand back like he'd been burned, muttering something incoherent.
Julian's smirk softened into something unreadable. Almost… gentle.
"See?" he murmured. "It's not that hard."
Adrian couldn't breathe.
The rehearsal ended soon after, but the weight of that moment clung to him. By the time he escaped to his dressing room, his thoughts were a tangled mess. He sat heavily on the chair, pressing a hand to his chest as if he could calm the storm there.
This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to feel anything. It was just acting. Just performance. Nothing real.
So why did Julian's touch still linger like fire against his skin?
Adrian buried his face in his hands, groaning.
He was doomed.