Through the Lens

The moment I stepped onto the set of the photoshoot, I knew I was in trouble.

The studio was a sleek, high-end space in downtown Los Angeles, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. Inside, an elaborate setup had been arranged: dim, moody lighting, silk-draped furniture, and a minimalist backdrop with soft golden hues.

And in the center of it all, Julian Chase was already there, lounging in a chair like he owned the place.

His dark jeans were snug, his black button-down unfastened at the top just enough to hint at the smooth skin beneath. He tapped idly on his phone, clearly unbothered by the chaos around him. When he finally looked up and saw me, that damn smirk of his appeared.

“Ethan,” he greeted, his voice smooth as velvet. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

I rolled my shoulders, ignoring the heat curling low in my stomach. “Why would I avoid you?”

Julian tilted his head. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because of our little moment during the live interview?”

I bit back a sigh. The past week had been nothing but headlines dissecting every word we’d said, every glance we’d exchanged. Ethan Blake and Julian Chase: More Than Just Acting? Sparks Fly in Fiery Interview! And, of course, the fan theories—some ridiculous, others… alarmingly accurate.

“I don’t have time for your games today,” I muttered.

Julian grinned. “Oh, but you do. We’re about to get very close, Ethan.”

Before I could ask what he meant, the photographer, a sharp-eyed woman named Marissa, clapped her hands. “Alright, boys, let’s get started! We’re going for raw intimacy, deep emotion, and smoldering tension.”

I internally groaned. Of course, we were.

An assistant handed me my wardrobe—black slacks and a form-fitting white shirt. I changed quickly in the dressing room, avoiding my reflection. The last thing I needed was to overthink this.

When I returned, Julian was already positioned in front of the camera. The set design had shifted slightly, and now there was a dark velvet couch in the center of the frame.

Marissa gestured between us. “The theme is forbidden desire. The kind of love that’s undeniable but dangerous. We want to capture the yearning.”

Yearning. Fantastic.

Julian arched an eyebrow at me, clearly amused. “Sounds right up our alley.”

I ignored him and took my place beside him, keeping a respectable distance.

“Closer,” Marissa instructed.

I shifted an inch.

She sighed. “Closer. I need you practically breathing each other in.”

Julian smirked and slid in first, his knee brushing against mine. I hesitated, but the camera was already flashing, and I had no choice but to lean in.

“Good,” Marissa murmured. “Julian, look at Ethan like he’s the only thing in the world you want but can’t have.”

Julian’s eyes darkened, his usual cockiness fading into something else entirely. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

Damn him.

The camera clicked rapidly.

“Ethan,” Marissa continued, “your turn. Look at Julian like you’re about to give in, but you know you shouldn’t.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his stare.

Julian’s lips parted slightly, his breath shallow. The warmth of his body so close to mine was making it impossible to focus. I wasn’t sure what expression I was giving, but Marissa sounded thrilled.

“Yes, that’s the look,” she said. “Let’s push it further. Ethan, grip Julian’s shirt—like you want to pull him in but you’re stopping yourself at the last second.”

I hesitated.

Julian watched me closely, waiting. Daring me.

Slowly, I reached up and grasped the front of his shirt, my fingers curling into the fabric. It was soft, warm from his body heat. Julian exhaled sharply, barely audible, but I heard it.

“Beautiful,” Marissa praised. “Now, Julian, lift your hand—hover it over Ethan’s cheek, like you want to touch him, but you’re afraid to.”

Julian obeyed, his fingers a mere breath away from my skin. The proximity, the tension—it was unbearable.

The camera flashed again and again.

Then, Marissa’s voice cut through the moment.

“Now, we’re going for the final shot. Ethan, tilt your chin up slightly. Julian, lean in—almost as if you’re about to kiss, but don’t.”

Julian moved first, his lips a fraction away from mine. My pulse pounded.

This wasn’t acting anymore.

The air between us was charged, electric. My breath hitched, and for a split second, I forgot about the cameras, the crew, the world beyond this moment.

Then, Marissa called, “Perfect! That’s a wrap!”

The spell broke.

Julian pulled away, his expression unreadable, and I released my grip on his shirt as if it had burned me.

The crew applauded, muttering praises about how authentic it all felt. I forced a polite nod, but my hands were shaking.

I needed to get out of here.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked toward the dressing room. But before I could escape, Julian’s voice stopped me.

“Ethan.”

I paused but didn’t turn around.

“…Did that feel like acting to you?”

I clenched my jaw. “It doesn’t matter what it felt like.”

Julian exhaled a quiet laugh. “That’s not an answer.”

I didn’t give him one.

Instead, I walked away, my heartbeat roaring in my ears.

This was dangerous.

And I was starting to think I wouldn’t be able to fight it much longer.