Hailey
Josh leans into the kiss, his hand cupping my cheek before I pull away. When we break apart, the world comes rushing back—people moving equipment, voices shouting orders, the acrid smell of electrical burn.
"I'm fine, really," Josh insists as the medic finishes examining him. "Just some bruises."
The medic nods. "Nothing broken, but you'll be sore tomorrow."
I help Josh to his feet, steadying him when he winces. The studio has mostly returned to normal, though the damaged area is cordoned off with yellow tape.
"Show's over, people," Marcus calls out. "Reset for the third location. We'll continue in thirty."
I keep my arm around Josh's waist as we move to the side of the studio. "You need to rest," I tell him, still feeling the aftershocks of fear.
"Honestly, I'm okay," he says, though he doesn't pull away from my support. "Quick reflexes."
"Quick reflexes," I repeat, shaking my head. "You're lucky you didn't break your neck."
Josh's eyes soften. "So… that kiss."
