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ALYCIA DEBNAM-CAREY as Milla Blake Apple Cider Vinegar (2025)

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TEXTING: JUNE

Matthew: Happy birthday, sweetheart. x

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Matty had always prided himself in his patience. He liked to assume the best in people, despite previous heartaches or disappointments, and to allow everybody the grace that he hoped they’d extend to him in return. As Chess had apologised and floundered her way through their text exchange, recounting times that she’d been late or unavailable, chastising herself for unavoidable circumstances, he’d felt awful. He’d never wanted her to place so much pressure on herself, certainly not for somebody such as him. He understood all too well how busy life could get and he carried no frustration towards the lovely girl, and he could only hope that she believed his assertions that he was perfectly content to wait for her. 

He knew that a lot of others wouldn’t be quite so forgiving or understanding, his recent disagreement with Maggie a fine example of the fact, but he didn’t mind. If trusting the people he adored was seen as a flaw or sign of weakness, then so be it. 

He was well on his way into the studio that breeze Friday morning, the promise of a conversation – an explanation, even – fueling him for the day ahead. He had no intention to demand answers from Chess on what was keeping her schedule so busy, but it was a comfort to know that she was willing to share, and that she wanted to do it face to face. It was nearing lunch time as his phone buzzed in his pocket, a call coming through from the woman in question. He smiled down at the sight of her pretty smile lighting up his caller ID, her contact photo set to an image of her with her head tipped back laughing, a snippet of Henry’s equally entertained body barely in frame. He couldn’t quite recall anymore what the two best friends had been laughing at, only that he’d caught the moment and looked back on it fondly. 

“Good morning, darling,” Matty greeted her as he waited on his uber, a warm smile on his face. 

The voice that responded was unfamiliar, however, and Matty frowned. Had somebody stolen Chessy’s phone? He narrowed his eyes; brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to make sense of the words that were pouring through the receiver. 

“Mr Howard, is it? This is Miss Smith, Hazel’s teacher. I’m really sorry to be calling you like this and from your wife’s phone, but sweet little Hazel nabbed it this morning and, well, that’s beside the point,” the woman on the other end was saying. 

The words made sense, in a way, and yet every last sentence fell on deaf ears. It was all foreign to Matty, the conversation he seemed to have inadvertently been dragged into. The woman’s voice went on, uttering something about how Hazel had a bit of a tummy bug and needed collecting from school, but they had no way of reaching her mother and saw his number listed under Chessy's favourites. Matty’s head was reeling. Had Joey’s niece gotten a hold of Chess’ phone? Had the teacher tried and failed to contact Joey or the girl’s mother and settled on him as a last resort? He had no idea, but his heart ached for the little girl, sitting at school and feeling so poorly. 

The second his taxi arrived, Matty apologised to the driver and requested a new location, heading directly to the school instead of the studio. He’d practically stumbled out of the car upon arrival, requesting that the driver wait for him as he rushed to the front office in a daze. 

“Mr Howard? Oh, thank God,” a pretty blonde cried out as she greeted him in the entry way. She must be the Miss Smith he’d spoken to on the phone.  

Matty shook his head, waving off the false name, but words seemed to fail him as his gaze landed on the little girl sat in the waiting room. She was white as a sheet, all the colour sapped from her cheeks as her arms remained wrapped around her belly. Her teacher, Miss Smith, explained that she had a slight tummy bug and that they’d been advised to send her home. 

“As much as we adore having little Miss Howard, we’re not eager for her to be stuck in a classroom all day feeling awful when she could be at home resting,” she pushed on, but Matty hardly heard her. 

Miss Howard. That couldn’t be right, could it? She was the little girl he’d seen all over Joey’s instagram, her niece. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening, but he simply pushed forward, dropping into a crouch in front of young Hazel June. 

“Hello, lovely. My name’s Matty and I’m going to take you to see your mummy, is that alright? She’s going to help you feel so much better,” he promised the little girl, glancing up at her teacher for any signs of approval. 

Once they’d gotten all formalities out of the way, he’d thanked Miss Smith and scooped Hazel June up into his arms, the little girl immediately comfortable as her head dropped to his shoulder, arms tight around his neck as he carried her out to his waiting taxi. The drive to the studio felt expansive, his mind in a whirl as the sweet young girl clung to him, sporadically offering up disgruntled noises or the occasional question of when will I get to see mummy? There’d been no mistaking the Australian lilt to her accent, so much like the one Chess had. It was bewildering to him, to think that Maggie might have been right all along, that Chess could have been lying about something so huge. 

The second they arrived at their destination, Matty slid a few extra twenties into the driver’s palm and cradled Hazel June to his chest, sidestepping his way into the studio as he nudged doors open with his hip. He scanned the room for Chess before his gaze finally landed on her tucked away between clothing racks, the little girl in his arms now dozing off against his shoulder. 

Carefully, he ambled towards her, ignoring the bewildered stares he was getting from models and photographers alike. He came to a stop behind Chess, whose back was still turned to him, unaware of his arrival. 

“In about 15 seconds time you’ll turn around and see that I have quite the remarkable gift for you,” he deadpanned, voice low so as not to wake the sleeping child. 

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: See you then, darling. x

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: Baby :) Chess: I'll see you tomorrow. x

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Try not to worry, baby. We'll be okay. Matthew: And then I'll take you out on a glorious date. ;)

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: I wouldn't expect you to. x

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: I would apologise, but I'm not entirely sure I would mean it.

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: I'm okay, really. Chess: God. Chess: You really snuck up on me, you know that?

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Of course, love. Matthew: I'm happy to wait so we can talk about this in person, but can I just check that you're okay? Matthew: Whatever is worrying you, love, we'll figure it out.

TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Baby? Oh, I like that. Matthew: Talk to me, honey. Matthew: I've told you already, I am happy to wait. Matthew: I like you, Chessy. I like you a lot, actually. I want to take you out on dates and show you off to my friends and family and call you mine. Since we're being candid. Matthew: If you're frightened or unsure, I'll wait. I have no qualms in doing so, love.

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Baby? Oh, I like that. Matthew: Talk to me, honey. Matthew: I've told you already, I am happy to wait. Matthew: I like you, Chessy. I like you a lot, actually. I want to take you out on dates and show you off to my friends and family and call you mine. Since we're being candid. Matthew: If you're frightened or unsure, I'll wait. I have no qualms in doing so, love.

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: Baby, oh, not at all. Chess: I'm doing this all wrong. Chess: I like you a ridiculous, earth shattering amount. It's why I've let myself be so selfish with your attention. Chess: And if we're being super candid, it hurts to think about you seeing someone else. Which isn't fair, because I've been so closed off. Chess: I just don't know what to do.

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: And yet, I still think you're lovely. Matthew: I don't mind if you cancel plans, I don't care at all if you're late. We're young and we have all the time in the world, darling. Matthew: Right. Matthew: Be honest, love. Are you trying to let me down easy? I know we aren't "together" so to speak, but if this is you ending things before they've even begun, I'll try to understand.

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: I'm not wonderful. I cancel all our plans and I forget things and I show up late all the time. And you're always so patient about it. Chess: Besides, I don't think I know how to just be your friend anymore.

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Slow down, honey. Matthew: As lucky as I'd be to call you my girlfriend, I'm only asking for a date... for now. Matthew: But I don't think that's true at all. I think you'd be quite wonderful. You already are. Matthew: Besides, you aren't losing me at all. If you decide that I'm not the man for you and that you want to remain friends, I'd be honoured.

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: No! Not at all. Chess: I'm just not sure I would be a good girlfriend. Chess: I know you haven't asked me. But what if you do? And then I would really, actually lose you. And that would be so rubbish. Chess: You shouldn't have to wait around to be disappointed. Chess: Oh, stop being so adorable and understanding.

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Is that supposed to be a bad thing? Am I something shameful, honey? ;) Matthew: No, I don't think we are. Matthew: And I'll continue to wait. Matthew: You don't need to feel bad, darling. If I didn't want to wait, I wouldn't. Work, life... It all gets busy, I understand. I know you're not trying to blow me off. Matthew: Well... Not in any negative meaning of the term. x

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: I'll start to like you even more. Chess: You're my only secret lover. Though I don't imagine we're being particularly secretive. Chess: Matty... Chess: I feel bad. You're always waiting on me.

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: And what's that, sweetheart? Matthew: Look at you, a busy bee. Matthew: Secret lover, is it? Matthew: That's alright. I'm happy to wait, darling. We can make something work.

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: Even more doubtful. Chess: Because I know what'll happen if we start going out more, silly. Chess: Next week might be doable. Chess: Wait, scratch that. Chess: Week after? Chess: Oh. I don't know if I can.

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Doubtful. Do you think Joey knows? Matthew: A problem? Why is that, darling? I like you very much. Matthew: When works for you? I was thinking some evening next week, the week after if you're too busy? Matthew: Now, I know you're usually a little more available during the day, but I thought the evening might make it... more romantic, perhaps?

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: You're actually so silly. Do you think Micah knows that's his job? Chess: No! Chess: I mean. You're not. Chess: I just. Chess: I already like you quite a lot. It's a problem. [a few minutes pass] Chess: When?

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: You're right. I will be sure to avoid carnivorous plants, in case the spirit of Levi Stubbs rises from the ashes and decides to try and take a nibble on Joey. Matthew: That's Micah's job, after all. Matthew: Quite right, which is why I'm asking now. Matthew: If I'm barking up the wrong tree here, Chessy love, by all means let me down gently. I'm giving you an out.

TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Perhaps in Super Mario Bros. ;) Matthew: Yes, really. Matthew: Why wouldn't it be? Have I given you the impression I don't want to take you out on dates, love?

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Perhaps in Super Mario Bros. ;) Matthew: Yes, really. Matthew: Why wouldn't it be? Have I given you the impression I don't want to take you out on dates, love?

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: I think so. Don't they eat people, though? Maybe some ghost lilies, instead? Chess: Oh. Hush. Chess: Wait, really? Chess: Is that something you want?

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: Tell him I'll make it up to him. I'll send Joey a Venus Flytrap on his behalf, or something. Matthew: Those are spooky, right? Matthew: Oh, I do love that blush of yours... Matthew: Ha. I mean, it's always an option, darling. Don't you worry. Matthew: I was actually wondering if you'd be so lovely as to let me take you out on a date? Matthew: A real date. No Eli and Annie, no Henry, no Joey and Micah. No flights and expensive hotel rooms, just the two of us, a nice restaurant, and good conversation.

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: Well, you make me very happy. I'll be even happier when I've stolen my flowers back from Micah! Chess: I'm blushing. Chess: What ways would those be, hm? Chess: Not that the other thing isn't entirely off the table.

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TEXTING: CHESS Matthew: I do it because I think you're lovely and it makes me happy seeing you happy, darling. Matthew: But I can think of ways for you to make it up to me... Matthew: You know, for arguably the first time in my life, I didn't intend for that to sound quite so filthy?

TEXTING: MATTY Chess: You're always doing nice things for me. I don't think I'm holding up my end of the bargain. Chess: Not that this is purely transactional! Chess: (Shut up, Francesca) Chess: Yes. Unfailingly so.