Page 32 of Between the Lines

Silas

Why?

Luna

’Cause, I’m trying to get a read on you, but you’re all stoic and shit. Can’t tell anything from your face, and you won’t use your words…

Silas

Smirks. He looks at her for a bit, studying her face, thinking about if he can say what he wants without pissing her off.

You want me to just come right out with it?

Luna

Absolutely.

Silas

The things I’m trying to say to you…can’t be communicated with words.

This was it.

We’d reached the point in the script I hadn’t been sure if I was dreading or looking forward to—now that we were here…I still didn’t know.

It felt ridiculous to be so nervous about doing a love scene with a woman I’d not only been in a relationship with but had done scenes like this with before.

Everything was as it should be on set—not that I’d expected anything less.

The staff was at bare minimum for the privacy and comfort of the actors. A team of intimacy coordinators had already been going over everything with us, checking in on our mental state, making sure the right undergarments were in place, etc., because Charlotte Fox didn’t play any games when it came to that.

The script was tight, and we knew it front to back as well as possible, no room for any of the “letting nature take its course,” “going with the flow” shit some actors talked about, which never sat right with me. Yes, there should be chemistry between the actors, and attraction wasn’t some abnormal thing, but leaning into that kind of language around these scenes often left some actors feeling uncomfortable.

Myself included.

This wasn’t supposed tobereal—it was supposed tolookreal.

There was a difference.

But again, Charlotte ran things above board. All the i’s were dotted, all the t’s were crossed, no worries.

Everything was going to be great.

So…why did I still feel anxious?

It wasn’t uncommon for there to be a bit of uncertainty with this, but for me at least, it was usually when the actor on the other side of the scene was mostly a stranger.

Shit.

Maybe that was exactly the problem—Ellie was about as far from a stranger as a person could be. She was my friend, yes, but also my ex, who I still very much had intimate feelings for.

Real ones.

Feelings it would be incredibly unprofessional of me to allow to cross over.

I had to figure out how to keep my shit together so I wouldn’t make her uncomfortable—or embarrass my damn self.

Always so much easier said than done.

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