#i was not immune LMFAOOAOAKALALALA

[vanrouchu]

second take

If the first take doesn't come out as expected, it's time to cut the cameras and create a second one.

— Deren x Reader

If Deren were to add one more regret to her long list of missed chances, then perhaps it would be the fact that she went out of her way to attend a premiere of a highly anticipated film featuring famous actors in the industry. The bright lights, the cameras flashing at her, and the countless journalists that tried to chase her down weren't the reason why she came to regret it.

No, it was something else—something that she thought she wanted until her eyes caught sight of it.

It's been years since she last tried creating a film. It's been years since she saw a familiar face who she thought would be the star of every film she would make. Bold words that turned into nothing but a source of disappointment when she left the scene, leaving behind a broken heart and a chance she chose to forsake.

Seeing you thrive in a place like this—strutting down the red carpet with a smile on your face, a demeanor meant to be captured in cameras—she should be happy that you turned out to be more fortunate after parting ways.

But she wasn't. If anything, she hated how it left a bitter taste on her tongue.

A moment of reprieve from the flashing lights and cameras. A space with just the two of you as if fate decided to toy with her. She cleared her throat, feeling a little stuffy at the tension that hung in the air. Regret came to her at that moment; she didn't know how to react in this kind of situation, especially when her plan was to gaze from afar.

“You seem well.” Deren paused, trying to think of something to add. “I'm looking forward to the movie. I heard that it's your best one yet.”

Silence followed. She couldn't help but wonder if it would've been better if she stayed quiet.

“It seems that way to other people.” You played with the hem of your clothes. “I don't think so, though.”

“Hmm…” She couldn't think of a response. How would she go about picking up broken pieces of glass and trying to piece them back together? “Then what would you consider your best?”

Another pause. Deren held her breath, a bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck as she waited in anticipation for your answer—if you even decided to answer at all.

“It was when I worked with a director years ago. She managed to capture my heart with her work and she promised to make me the star of her movies.” Her eyes widened, not expecting your words. “Though that's all in the past now. Nothing but a memory that I remember.”

It was right in front of her. Shards of a bond that she carelessly broke, scattered. Only an idiot would try to pick up the sharp edges with their bare hands. Deren would willingly give herself bloody fingers if it meant she could salvage what was left.

“... Do you want to star in a film I'm making?” There was a smile on her face that held expectations. Perhaps she was arrogant and conceited for asking this sort of question given her history with you but at the same time, she knew you the best. “I can guarantee you that I'll treat you better than the director you talked about. You'll be more satisfied, too.”

“... There you go again with your bold words. Haven't you learned your lesson?” You furrowed your eyebrows, staring at the hand Deren extended towards you. Only an idiot would take those bloody hands that tried so hard to put back what was broken.

“Have you?”

Then, a defeated smile before your fingertips touched her hand. “I suppose not.”