chemical override (6)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!
To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3
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In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?
Some time before August
New York City
The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.
The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.
After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.
The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.
Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."
"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."
"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "
"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"
Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.
"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.
Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.
Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.
Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.
"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.
"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."
Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.
Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.
The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.
"Sir, I - "
"Bruce."
"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."
"Got a partner?"
Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.
"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.
"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."
"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."
Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."
"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."
"I don't need to see - "
"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.
"You want me to hide my relationship?"
"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"
"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."
"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."
"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.
Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.
"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."
Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.
"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."
"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."
There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.
For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.
There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.
"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."
Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"
Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.
But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."
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Near the end of August
Los Angeles
The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.
"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."
You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."
"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"
You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.
"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."
She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."
You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "
"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."
"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."
It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.
"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."
You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"
"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."
"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."
"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."
You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.
Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."
You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.
All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.
Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.
"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.
He loves you. It was true.
Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.
And that was the problem.
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Late September
The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.
The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.
He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.
Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.
It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.
Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.
Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.
And don't think about her.
An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"
Oh fuck.
"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.
"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."
"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."
"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "
"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"
"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.
"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."
"Oh, you log off?"
"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."
"It can get frivolous, can't it?"
Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.
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Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.
Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.
Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.
Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...
You must be on FaceTime everyday!
Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?
Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?
...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.
He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.
He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.
You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.
Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.
The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.
How special is the bond between dragon and rider?
What is a funny moment from set that you can share?
How similar are Aemond and Daemon?
All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.
But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?
"Matthew McConaughey - "
You.
" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "
Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.
" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -
You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.
He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.
" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -
Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?
" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."
"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"
"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."
It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.
Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."
Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"
Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?
"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.
And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -
We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.
He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮💨
I wonder if she's there behind the scenes
yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!
Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!
Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this
Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.
Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.
All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.
To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.
Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.
Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.
Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!
Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.
He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.
Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.
Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.
He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.
"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."
"I don't need a breather." I need her.
"Ewan - "
His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."
"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."
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October
The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"
It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.
You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.
But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.
And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.
Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.
It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.
Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"
You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.
As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.
Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.
It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.
"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.
"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.
"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."
"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.
The rest of the cast.
"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?
Do they know?
Do they secretly hate you for what you did?
"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.
"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.
"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.
"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.
You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.
They notice.
"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.
Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"So you guys know, huh?"
"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "
"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"
"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."
You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.
Your friends know you too well.
"I... I miss him."
Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.
It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.
You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.
"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."
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November
"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"
Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"
The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.
"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."
"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.
After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.
Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.
They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.
Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.
After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.
"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.
"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.
A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.
Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.
The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.
When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."
Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.
"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"
Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.
While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.
But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.
"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."
Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.
"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?
"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."
"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."
"Is it?"
Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.
Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.
So he says, "She misses you, you know."
Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.
"Let's head back inside."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
December
You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.
Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.
Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.
"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.
"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."
"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."
She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."
"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."
The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.
Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.
"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.
You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."
"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"
"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"
She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."
"Any plans for the night?"
She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."
"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"
"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."
"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.
"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."
The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.
It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.
Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.
"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.
"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"
"Why would I - "
"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.
The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.
The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.
A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.
"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."
"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."
"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."
You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.
"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.
A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.
"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."
"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.
It's what you deserve.
"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.
"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
"I... I can leave if you want - "
"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."
You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.
And he is making you pay for it now.
But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."
Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.
Stay, he asked. So you do.
It's what you should have done, months ago.
"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.
The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.
The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.
"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."
"Feels like a lifetime."
He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"
"How... how can you even ask me that?"
"How can I - "
"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.
"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."
"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.
"Like I said - nothing to fight for."
"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."
"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"
"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.
"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."
"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"
"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."
"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.
The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.
"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"
Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.
Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.
You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.
"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."
"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."
"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."
Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.
How desperately you want it to be true.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?
But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.
Someone familiar to you.
And it's him.
"Ewan?"
"I need to speak with you."
You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.
You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.
When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.
"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."
"I'm sorry - "
"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"
"Ewan, I don't under - "
"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."
"You're kidding."
He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."
His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.
You'll be using each other.
You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?
What, except for him, and for good this time?
What, except everything?
"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"
💌 next chapter
Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy (continued ... )
Some notes in the margins...
Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!
The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk
So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.
Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕
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