Still in deep thought, George now had his phone in hand, staring at the screen. His thumb hovered over Chris' contact.
It had been a while since they talked. Chris was a family man now, kid on the way, and a business to run. George didn't want to call randomly, and didn't want to disrupt his evening. He typed out a text instead:
"Hey man, hit me up when you have a minute. Need to talk."
He barely had time to put the phone down before it vibrated in his palm.
Chris.
George picked up, a smile tugging at his lips. "That was fast."
"I always got time for you, man," Chris' familiar voice came through, easy and warm. "How's the new movie coming along? Saw some of the posters online. Looks intense."
George leaned back into the couch, letting the comfort of an old friendship settle over him. "It's going well. Long days, but it's shaping up."
There was a pause on the other end, a moment of silence that wasn't awkward but loaded with what they both knew was coming.
"Thanks, man," Chris said, his tone softer now. "For getting her the role."
George shook his head, even though Chris couldn't see him. "It's nothing big. Just a background role."
"It's a start, George," Chris insisted. "You remember how you started? This is way better. You were doing pizza deliveries and crashing on people's couches."
George chuckled, the memories flashing vividly. "Yeah. Glamorous beginnings, huh? I owe you a lot"
"You made it though. And you don't owe me anything, just look out for her."
The sincerity in Chris' voice made George's chest tighten. "Don't say that. You were the one supporting me back then. You'd send me your damn pocket money, remember? Like five bucks at a time. I wouldn't have made it without you. Thank you, man. For everything."
Chris laughed. "Yeah, you owe me a fortune in interest."
They both laughed, the ease of old friendship wrapping around them like a shield.
But it didn't last long.
Chris' voice grew quieter. "How is she doing? Lydia, I mean. You've seen her, right?"
George's throat tightened. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "She's… adjusting. Seems to have made a friend on set. She's always smiling, but.. it doesn't feel real."
Chris sighed, and George could picture him rubbing his face in that way he always did when frustrated. "She hasn't been the same since Jack. That bastard cheated on her. Nearly two years they were together, and he threw it away. She says she's fine, but you know Lydia. She hides things. She's sad, George. Maybe she could use a friend right now."
Friend. The word echoed in George's head, heavier than it should have been.
"I'll be coming to LA next week for a business meeting," Chris continued. "Thought I could take you two out for lunch. You know, catch up."
George felt his pulse quicken. Lunch. With Lydia. He hadn't even said a proper hello yet. Could he even face her after all this time? After all the letters he never sent?
But he couldn't say no. Not to Chris. Not to this.
"Yeah," George said, voice steady despite the churn in his stomach. "I'll be there."
"Good," Chris said, and George could hear the smile in his voice. "It's time."
George chuckled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Say hi to Mandy for me."
"Will do. Take care, man.Goodnight."
"Night, Chris."
The call ended, but the words hung in the air like residue.
George leaned back, phone resting on his chest, eyes closed. He thought of Lydia's face, the way she had looked on set, trying to blend into the background, her smile never quite reaching her eyes. He thought of Leo, of the other actors, people who didn't know her like he did.
But she didn't need another guy following her around, hoping for a moment of attention. She didn't need grand gestures or more pressure. She needed a friend.
That's what he could be. Even if it killed him.
George Rowe, Hollywood's top actor who had spent three years crafting roles and perfecting on screen romances, had never been more terrified of a simple conversation in his life.
But tonight, something shifted.
He realized it wasn't about him.
Lydia didn't need a man pursuing her.
She needed someone who saw her.
Someone who knew how to sit quietly beside her when the world was too loud.
Even if that's all he'd ever get to be.
He would take it.
Because loving her wasn't about winning.
It was about being there.
And when Chris comes to town next week, George will be ready.
For lunch.
For friendship.
For whatever comes next.
But for now, he needed to figure out how to say hello.
And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
He stood up and walked to the window. The city stretched out before him, glowing and alive. Somewhere out there, Lydia was probably lying in her bed, unaware that her name had just been spoken in a quiet conversation between two men who cared about her deeply.
George smiled, a soft, private thing.
Tomorrow, he'd find a way to talk to her.