The heavy tension of the shoot finally broke, replaced by the high-octane buzz of a job well done. The "blue room" felt less like a stage and more like a winner's circle.
"That's a wrap on the main feature!" Lana called out, her voice filled with a rare, genuine warmth. She signaled to a PA, who immediately appeared with a tray of chilled crystal flutes and a vintage bottle of champagne.
Holmes stepped out from behind the master console, his usual stoic expression replaced by a wide, toothy grin. He looked like he'd just watched his favorite team win the championship. He walked straight over to me, extending a large, calloused hand.
"Hart, man... I've seen a thousand shoots," Holmes said, his voice a low rumble of respect as he shook my hand firmly. "But that? That was different. You weren't just hitting marks; you were dominating the space. The chemistry with the girls was off the charts."
