Ben's presence lingers even when he says nothing. It's been days since Mia started avoiding him—since Jella's warning settled in her mind like a stone she can't unturn. She moves through the office on autopilot, responding with polite nods and clipped phrases whenever Ben assigns a task. The teasing between them is gone, replaced with a strange quiet. But Ben still looks at her. Not confrontational, not accusing—just watching, like he knows something's changed and is waiting for her to admit it.
At her desk, Mia sits hunched forward, elbows planted firmly on the wood. Her fingers knot into her hair, pressing against her scalp as her forehead hovers above the cool surface.
"Mia," a whisper cuts through the noise of her spiraling thoughts.
She startles and lifts her head. Ben stands beside her, too close, his voice gentle but certain.
"We need to talk about the sh—"
The sound of her chair scraping back interrupts him. She's already on her feet, already walking away. His voice follows, but she doesn't look back.
Standing in front of the vending machine, she digs through her wallet for change, eyes fixed on the coins. Just as her hand moves to insert them, another hand slides in first.
A coin clinks. She turns.
Ben.
His posture is relaxed, but his eyes say otherwise. He's close—close enough that she can feel the tension in the air.
"Which one do you want?" he asks, his voice neutral—not pressing, not teasing. Just asking.
"Huh? No, you go first," she replies quickly, stepping back with an urgency that gives her away.
She turns to leave, but before she can take another step, his hand finds her wrist—not forceful, just enough to pause her in place.
"Mia… is everything okay?" His voice softens, as though he's been holding something back. "Why do you keep avoiding me? I just wanted to buy you a drink."
Her pulse quickens. She slips her wrist free—not with resistance, but with the subtle urgency of wanting to escape. She doesn't meet his eyes as she takes a step back, then another.
"I don't want it anymore," she mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper, before walking away.
Each step feels like it pulls her farther from something she's not sure of—her pace uneven, her heart pounding with the weight of it all. His voice still lingers in the air behind her, gentle and patient.
It makes everything harder to ignore.
Then—impact.
A soft thud pulls her back to the present as she crashes into a firm chest. Her eyes snap up.
Kevin.
His brow furrows in confusion before it softens, morphing into something like concern.
"Are you okay? Why are you walking while looking down?" His voice is steady, but there's a hint of worry in it.
"Oh my—sorry, sir!" she stammers, scrambling to straighten herself.
His eyes flicker over her face, taking in her flushed cheeks and the disorientation in her gaze.
"You're red. Do you have a fever?" His voice drops slightly as he assesses her, his hand lifting slowly, almost instinctively, as if to check her temperature.
She steps back, just enough to put a little space between them before his hand can make contact.
"I'm okay, sir," she says, her tone stiff and low.
Her heart pounds harder now, a strange tension building in the space between them.
His hand lowers. She walks away before either of them can say more. Behind her, two sets of eyes follow—one puzzled, the other unreadable. And she doesn't know which one makes her heart race faster.
Later that day, Jella skips over, excitement practically bouncing with her steps.
"Miaaa! Are you ready for the shoot?"
Mia blinks, caught off guard. "Shoot? What shoot?"
"The summer campaign, remember? We're launching the new ice cream flavors!"
Mia rubs at her temple, trying to pull the memory forward. "Oh—right. When and where was it again?"
"At the Golden Resort, near the beach. It's a one-night, two-day business trip!"
"Two days? For ice cream?" she asks, deadpan.
"Not just the ice cream," Jella grins. "We've got Daisy, the new brand ambassador. We need to shoot the ad, the video commercial, and of course, Jay and I will film behind-the-scenes content. Plus, a quick Q&A video with Daisy for social media. We need loads of material for the campaign."
"Daisy?" Mia echoes. Her tone is even, but her chest tightens.
"Wait—who's going to this shoot?"
Jella begins listing names casually. "Hmm… me, you, Jay, Ben, Mr. Garcia… and Daisy, plus the production staff for the photoshoot, of course."
Mia stands still. Ben. Kevin. Daisy. All in one place. One resort. Overnight.
Her face stays composed, but beneath it, tension pulls tight. Avoidance isn't an option anymore. Whatever she's been running from is about to stand right in front of her—on a beach, with nowhere to hide.