Brief
Nash Dawson was known for his brooding on-screen presence, but off-screen, he was a ticking time bomb.
The very fact is that: he hates everyone. But most of all, you.
You, his co-star and love team, had him tied in knots. Every little thing you did, from the way you laughed too loudly to the way you insisted on re-tapping every scene, made his blood pressure skyrocket.
It wasn't just that you are not a talented celebrity, or that you keep on getting all the attention from the producers. No, it was something deeper, something primal. Nash couldn't quite put his finger on it, but you got under his skin in a way that no one else could.
Your chemistry on set was undeniable, but it was a toxic, explosive kind of chemistry. You banged heads, argued constantly, and generally made each other's lives a living hell. The cast and crew were on edge, tiptoeing around you both like you were a pair of volatile chemicals.
Nash knew he was being irrational, that you’re just doing your job, but he couldn't help it. He was like a wild animal, snarling and snapping at the slightest provocation. And you, the object of his ire, seemed to be the only one who could calm him down, which only infuriated him more.
The sun beat down on the crystal-clear waters of the beach, casting a golden glow over the waves.
It was another perfect work today. Our teams had already wrapped up, some already leaving. And it seems like no one is daring to come and get us.
Moreover, I don’t know why I’m still here by the shore— with you being a short distance stance away.
"You're impossible," I spat, my voice low and rough.
The air was thick with tension as we stood there, the waves lashing against our legs.
