Director Mason didn't cry in front of people.
He yelled.
He panicked.
He went bald with dignity.
But he didn't cry.
Until now.
After Everyone Leaves
The conference room slowly emptied.
Daniel was dragged out by a PA who promised coffee.
Julian was called away by a studio executive speaking in capital letters.
The assistants scattered like survivors after a storm.
Only Mason remained.
Sitting alone at the long table.
Bald head in his hands.
Breathing like he'd just run from something that almost caught him.
Aria paused at the door.
Looked back.
And walked toward him instead of leaving.
The Man Behind the Director
Mason didn't notice her at first.
He was staring at the tabletop, eyes unfocused.
"…I could've killed you," he muttered.
Aria stopped in front of him.
"No."
He laughed weakly.
"Don't be nice to me.
This was my set. My rig. My call."
She tilted her head slightly.
"…It was an accident."
"That's what scares me."
His voice cracked.
"I plan for chaos.
I plan for mistakes.
I don't plan for impossible things."
He looked up at her.
"You make the ground feel unreliable."
Aria listened.
Really listened.
Then she sat down across from him.
Aria's Version of Comfort
She didn't touch him.
Didn't offer platitudes.
She just spoke.
"…You reacted correctly."
Mason blinked.
"What?"
"When the rig failed," she continued calmly,
"you ordered evacuation.
You called for shutdown.
You prioritized people."
He stared at her.
"That's… basic."
She shook her head.
"It is not."
He swallowed.
"…I was terrified."
She nodded.
"That is also correct."
The Truth Mason Was Avoiding
He rubbed his face.
"I keep thinking—
if you hadn't been you…"
She finished the sentence.
"…I would be dead."
He closed his eyes.
"Yes."
The word came out broken.
Aria didn't deny it.
She said instead:
"That is why I climbed higher."
Mason froze.
"…You planned for it."
"Yes."
His chest tightened.
"You knew it might happen."
"Yes."
"And you didn't tell anyone."
"No."
"Why?" he demanded.
She met his gaze.
"Because they would have stopped the scene."
"And you didn't want that?"
"I did not want panic."
He laughed, hollow.
"So you chose terror after."
She considered.
"…Yes."
The Director's Fear, Finally Spoken
Mason leaned back.
"I don't know how to direct you," he admitted.
His voice was small now.
"You're not reckless.
You're not careless.
You're… prepared in ways I don't understand."
He looked at her.
"And I'm scared I'll fail you."
Aria blinked.
"…Why would you?"
"Because one day," he said quietly,
"your preparation won't be enough."
The room went very still.
Aria Answers Honestly
She didn't rush.
Didn't soften it.
"…That is possible."
Mason flinched.
She continued.
"But not because of you."
He looked up.
She spoke with quiet certainty.
"You did not push me.
You did not ignore warnings.
You did not value the shot over lives."
She paused.
"That matters."
Mason's eyes burned.
"I don't feel brave."
She nodded.
"Bravery is often misidentified."
He laughed weakly.
"You're comforting me."
"Yes."
"That feels wrong."
"…You look frightened."
The Smallest Gesture
Aria reached into her bag.
Pulled out a wrapped protein bar.
She slid it across the table.
"…Eat."
Mason stared at it.
"…Is this your solution to everything?"
"Yes."
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Then picked it up.
Ate.
His hands stopped shaking.
The Calm Returns
After a moment, he sighed.
"…Thank you."
She nodded.
"You are welcome."
He looked at her.
"You know they're going to dig into your past now."
"Yes."
"And you're okay with that?"
She thought.
"…I am cautious."
He smiled faintly.
"That might be the scariest answer yet."
Closing Beat
Mason stood.
Straighter.
Still bald.
Still exhausted.
But breathing again.
He looked at Aria.
"We'll change the film," he said.
She shook her head.
"…No.
We will make it safer."
He smiled.
"…Deal."
As they left the room together, Daniel peeked around the corner.
"Is he alive?"
Mason raised the protein bar.
"She saved me."
Daniel blinked.
"…With food?"
Julian, passing by, smiled knowingly.
Aria adjusted her bag.
"…It is effective."
And for the first time since the fall—
The director wasn't afraid of what she could do.
He was afraid of letting her do it alone.