The call sheet slid under Sasha's door before dawn.
Date Assignment: Dinner for Two. Partner: Ethan Cole. Theme: Rekindled Flames.
Her stomach dropped. Of course. The producers smelled blood and wanted fire.
By sunset, she found herself in a silk gown she hadn't chosen, seated across from Ethan at a candlelit table on the villa's terrace. The ocean glimmered beyond them, violins piped in through hidden speakers, and a boom mic hovered like an executioner's blade.
The host's voice boomed from off-camera. "Alright, you two—act like it's your first date all over again. Lots of flirting. Lots of chemistry. Let's give the audience a love story."
Sasha forced a smile, lifting her champagne glass. "Cheers to… second chances, I guess?"
Ethan's lips curved, but his eyes stayed serious. "Sure. Second chances."
The cameras zoomed in, hungry for sparks.
They talked. At first it was banter—carefully crafted lines fed to them by the producers earlier. She played the part of the coy temptress, he the reluctant charmer. It was supposed to be easy.
But somewhere between the first toast and the second course, the script slipped.
Ethan leaned closer, his voice dropping so the mics would strain to catch it. "Was it really that simple? When you left?"
Her fork froze halfway to her mouth.
"That's not in the script," she whispered.
"I don't care." His gaze pinned her. "I need to know."
Her throat closed. The cameras were inches away, but for once, she couldn't summon a smirk. Couldn't summon anything but the truth clawing its way up.
"I was scared," she admitted, her voice low, raw. "I loved you, and it scared me more than failure ever could. So I ran. Because breaking your heart felt safer than letting you break mine."
The words hit the table like a confession she couldn't take back.
The crew fell silent. Even the boom mic dipped lower, as if stunned.
Ethan's hand moved, almost instinctively, brushing against hers across the table. "You really think I would've broken you?"
Sasha's eyes burned. "Doesn't matter. I did it first."
And for the first time, her smile wasn't a mask. It was gone.
The producers had wanted fireworks. Instead, they'd captured a wound laid bare.
And judging by the look in Ethan's eyes, this was no longer just content.
It was real.