The first recording day began at 7 a.m.
Finn was still half-asleep when the crew entered, cameras rolling immediately.
"Good morning!" someone chirped. "Let's get a natural wake-up shot."
Natural.
Leo stepped out of his room fully dressed, hair neat, expression unreadable.
He glanced at Finn.
"You sleep well?" he asked, right on cue.
Finn froze for half a second—then remembered.
"Yes," he said, forcing a small smile. "You?"
"Fine."
Too stiff. Too distant.
The director frowned. "Can we try that again? A bit more… warmth?"
Leo turned to Finn, lowered his voice.
"Relax," he said. "Follow my lead."
Take two.
Leo reached out casually, brushing imaginary lint off Finn's sleeve.
"You kicked your blanket off last night," he said lightly. "I almost stepped on it."
Finn blinked.
Then—instinctively—he laughed.
"Oh. Sorry about that."
There it was.
The director grinned. "Perfect."
But when the cameras moved away, Finn's smile faded.
"That wasn't in the script," he said quietly.
Leo shrugged. "There is no script."
Finn looked at him. Really looked this time.
"And if I mess up?"
Leo met his gaze, steady and calm.
"Then I'll cover for you."
For a brief moment, Finn felt something loosen in his chest.
Maybe this wouldn't be as lonely as he thought.