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itsbrandy · 6 months

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Wildest Dreams

Chapter 2: He's So Tall and Handsome as Hell

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, drug use, alcohol use, partying, smoking, spanking, mm kissing, ff kissing, old timey taboo

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Here's some angst for ya. Thank you for reading!

Dieter

Dieter was barely lucid by the time John arrived, but John fixed him up quickly. He’d made the stupid mistake of thinking John was there to break into his house despite the fact that his residence was carefully guarded by security.

“Are you taking downers?” John asked. He looked handsome. His blonde hair was neatly styled, and he was wearing baby blue. Dieter always loved it when he wore light colors. “You didn’t have to pregame so hard.”

“Dunno,” Dieter shrugged. “Too much time to wait.”

“‘Kay,” John said. He procured a pill bottle from his pocket and set a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass down on the coffee table. “Well, take some of this. You’ll pep right up. We’ve got girls coming. Lots of them. I did something you’re not going to believe, Dieter.”

Dieter took the small pill from John and threw it back with a shot of whiskey John poured for him. The shot screamed down his throat, burning up his nose and stimulating his senses.

“Nice,” Dieter commented. He loved the burn of whiskey as it went down. “What did you do?”

“I scouted the fucking acting schools,” John said. His brown eyes lit up with excitement.

“I’ve got 30-something acting school girls coming. Plus, our normal crowd. This party is going to be insane!”

Dieter was a bit too numb to match John’s level of enthusiasm, but he smiled and nodded to show his approval. If John was happy, he was happy. He hadn’t seen John this happy in a while. Ever since their big fight, John had kept his distance.

To be truthful with himself, Dieter wasn’t quite sure what the sudden change was.

Maybe it was that Dieter had drugs or that his house was bigger than John’s, so he could throw a proper rager.

Or maybe he’d gotten in trouble with his PR team for throwing parties at his own house and wanted to use Dieter’s house as a loophole.

Regardless of the reason, Dieter thought spending time with John was worth it.

Dieter was used to being used by people. All his life, he’d been used by people, whether it was for fame, money, sex, drugs, alcohol, or a cheap laugh.

“That’s awesome, John,” Dieter said. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“I’ve got connections,” John said. He poured Dieter another shot.

“Another one of my friends is bringing bottles. Don’t worry, this isn’t all we’ll have.”

“Good,” Dieter said, throwing the second shot back. “I was promised vodka.”

“Were you?” John asked, raising a blonde eyebrow.

Dieter wasn’t sure if he was playing dumb or if he was lying to him.

“Can we get some lights turned on in this place?” John asked, wandering over to the kitchen. “Do you usually just sit in the dark?”

Dieter shrugged. “I was on my own until you showed up. Let’s get those lights on so I can see your pretty face.”

“That’s more like it,” John said. He flicked the kitchen lights on, and Dieter almost gasped as he realized how shitty John looked.

He knew that he was spun out on drugs, but John had lost weight in the weeks since he’d last seen him. John’s cheekbones, usually prominent and handsome, jutted out unnaturally compared to his sunken in cheeks. His jaw wasn’t filled out either, making his chin look larger.

He didn’t look like himself.

He didn’t look like the John that Dieter was used to. But when John smiled at him, it was still that same smile, and Dieter realized he’d still kiss him in a heartbeat all the same. John just needed to eat more food. That was all.

Dieter could feed him. He made more than enough money to support John if he was struggling with eating. Or they could hire someone to bring him food. There had to be a solution.

Dieter’s mind was racing, and John’s mouth was moving, and Dieter couldn’t hear him.

“What did you say?” Dieter asked after a while. He was leaning against the counter, using it as support for his weight. His body felt heavy, and his head felt light.

“I said Mary Alice was pulled from the Paramount film,” John said with a grin. “I think it means you got the role.”

There was another man in the kitchen with John now, one that Dieter didn’t recognize.

He was taller than John but not taller than Dieter and had sandy brown hair. He was busy unloading bottles of alcohol out of a cardboard box and onto the other countertop.

“Who are you?” Dieter asked. He’d lost time between what John said about Mary Alice and now. There was a shot of whiskey served up right in front of him, speaking his name.

“Fred,” the man said, holding his hand out for Dieter to shake it. Instead, Dieter grabbed the shot glass and downed it, leaving Fred with his hand extended until he finally decided to retract it.

“When are people showing up?” Dieter asked.

“Now,” John said, as if Dieter was missing something.

When he turned around, he realized that there were already a couple dozen people milling around his living room. Music was playing from his record player, and girls were wearing shiny dresses that showed off their shoulders and their figures.

“Oh,” Dieter said. “I’m going to go talk to people, then.”

“Have fun,” John said. Dieter looked away, trying to find a beautiful girl in the room to talk to.

There were plenty of them, no shortage, really. John had done a really good job putting together the guest list.

What was it he said? Did he raid an acting school?

Genius, John.

John was so smart. So handsome. So strung out on drugs, God, he was so skinny now.

Dieter was worried, but Dieter couldn’t judge. He was also strung out on drugs.

The devil makes company.

His thoughts were like spaghetti in his hands, noodles slipping through his fingers as time and space contracted and flexed around him.

One moment, a girl would be sitting in his lap, her form pressed up against him. The next, she’d be gone, as if she was just a phantom, a poltergeist.

Dieter told himself he needed to slow down, but the drinks kept coming. Liquor flowed into his hand like it appeared out of thin air.

And the pills…

Once John opened up his not-so-secret box of fun on the coffee table, it was like all hell had sprung loose. Women flocked to the sitting area like vultures surrounding a carcass. They giggled and shrieked, taking turns as they quickly depleted Dieter’s stash.

John asked him if he had any more drugs.

Of course, he did.

Dieter wandered off to grab more from his closet—a second supply. An addict never hid all of his shit in the same place. How stupid would that be?

He dropped off the drugs with John and waited patiently for John to help him do another line. How many had he done tonight? What was it he’d grabbed from the closet?

Dieter blinked, then blinked again. His vision had gone fuzzy, but it cleared up quickly.

Time seemed to skip, bending and flexing. He stumbled backward into his seat, unaware that he’d been standing.

John laughed and slung his arm around his shoulder. He was warm and fit against him like the perfect puzzle piece. Oh, Dieter missed John. He wished John would come around more.

He wished it was just the two of them alone now. They didn’t need all of these people to have a good time.

“This is the best party I’ve been to in a minute,” John whispered in his ear.

“Yeah?” Dieter asked. “Why do you say that?”

“There are so many women,” John said with a laugh that sent tingles up Dieter’s spine. “I really outdid myself this time.”

“You did,” Dieter agreed. “I don’t know how you fit so many people in here.”

“Magic,” John joked.

He tried to remember the other parties that he’d been to with John in the months before they’d stopped spending as much time with one another. There was the one that quickly devolved into a sex party.

Dieter could almost taste John’s lips on his tongue. The memory was so vivid. It felt like he was reliving the moment now.

But then he was kissing John, cupping his chin on the couch in his living room. The brash feel of stubble against his fingertips felt like electricity. John tasted like whiskey, and he smelled like sin and smoke.

“What are you doing?” John asked.

“What?” Dieter said.

He was in John’s lap, kissing him, and the girls around them were watching. They always kissed at parties. This wasn’t anything new.

But things had changed between Dieter and John in the passing months, as much as Dieter didn’t want to admit it. He wasn’t John’s number one, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be.

“There’s too many people here,” John said, giving him a gentle shove. “Not now.”

Dieter stood up and swayed, finding balance difficult.

“Okay,” he said, as if his heart wasn’t shattered. “That’s okay.”

John gathered a young woman in his lap, swiftly replacing Dieter with her soft hips and poofy dress.

“Find a girl, Dieter,” John said. “You should enjoy yourself tonight. This party is your party, after all.”

Dieter nodded. “Yeah, I should do that. You’re right, John.”

He was lying to John and to himself.

He didn’t want a girl. He wanted John tonight.

Maybe beggars can’t be choosers, and Dieter didn’t often beg. It was just that he’d expected something when John called him earlier. He thought that John wanted to come over because he wanted Dieter, not a spot to host the biggest rager Hollywood had seen all year.

Dieter stumbled away, heading out to the front patio with a cigarette between his teeth. He puffed and inhaled, breathing in the bite of nicotine and immediately feeling more awake, more lucid.

He loved cigarettes at parties. They helped him have a second wind, waking him up from the haze of drugs and alcohol. He needed fresh air, though, and the front patio was less jam-packed with people than the inside of his home was.

Partygoers were still arriving, walking past Dieter and into his home as if they owned the place. The door was revolving—people came in, people came out.

A young actress burst through the door to puke in his front shrubs before racing back indoors to continue the festivities.

A pair of Hollywood hopefuls entered the home hand-in-hand,

sober and bright-eyed, so unaware that Hollywood would snap them apart if they ever got a role in anything.

Agents weren’t a fan of established couples. Neither were production companies.

They liked couples who drew headlines and excitement. So they would break up couples on purpose, shred them into tiny little pieces, and take away their happiness forever.

Dieter knew how it went, which is why he never messed around with dating.

Their romance would end in disaster.

Dieter was smarter than them.

He took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the railing of his front porch. As he did so, he noticed two girls walking down the road. One with dark hair, the other with light brown hair.

They walked hand-in-hand also, just like the couple that had entered his home before them.

The dark-haired one caught his eye and grabbed his attention immediately.

Much to his surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to ask her if she wanted to have sex with him. He wanted to ask her if she was okay.

She looked nervous as the pair of them approached his driveway, the woman with light brown hair murmuring reassurances to her.

“Nancy,” the dark-haired woman said. “This looks like a lot. I’m not sure if I’m comfortable—”

“It’ll be fun. I promise,” the other one, Nancy, said insistently. She hung on the dark-haired woman’s arm, pleading with her. “I just need to find Alice, and then you’ll feel more comfortable. She knows a ton of people here.”

“It’s so loud. Don’t you think the cops will come?” the dark-haired one said as they passed him.

She didn’t look at him, which bruised Dieter’s ego. Her brown eyes were locked on her friend instead.

Dieter knew the feeling. He opened his mouth to warn her about falling in love with her same-sex best friend.

It’ll end badly, he wanted to say. You’ll be in love forever, but you’ll always be forgotten about. You’ll live forever as the moth to her flame. Is that what you want?

Fuck, he should listen to his own advice.

Dieter laughed and lit another cigarette as the two women entered his home without saying hello to him.

The door opening let out the raucous sound of the party, which made Dieter’s head throb and pulse with the start of a headache.

He needed another drink ASAP.

“And? We’re in Hollywood. The cops know about these things. They wouldn’t dare mess with the stars. I mean, come on. This is Dieter Bravo’s house, after all,” Nancy said.

“Hm,” the dark-haired one said. Her voice still sounded wary, but she trusted her friend. “I hope you’re right.”

“We’ll get some drinks. You’ll feel better before you know it,” Nancy promised.

-----

Bee

Bee didn’t feel better with drinks in her. She felt dizzy and too hot. Her skin was crawling with the feeling of stuffiness in the crowded home. The lights were low, filled with the haze of smoke from all of the smokers.

She kept returning to the kitchen counter to pick up shot glasses of liquor, hoping that continuing to drink would make her feel more at peace and less like an outsider.

A couple of men approached her, but she quickly shooed them away and scurried back to Nancy’s side.

It was with Nancy that she felt safe, even though she didn’t really like Alice or her crowd very much.

Alice was stunning. She was blonde, with big curls and bright blue eyes. She was thin, too, with an angular face that made Bee envious and a body that turned heads on a swivel.

With Alice, Nancy, and Bee were right in the thick of things at the party. Though Bee didn’t recognize them, there were plenty of lower-level Hollywood stars gathered around where they sat on a set

of sofas.

Nancy flitted between the laps of men and Bee’s own lap.

Every time she got bored with a prospective catch, she’d return to Bee. Bee would wrap her arms around Nancy’s waist and nuzzle her shoulder with her chin, breathing in the smell of sultry smoke that mixed with Nancy’s fruity shampoo.

How could she have fun and give into her inhibitions at a party without giving into Nancy?

Especially with Nancy practically throwing herself at her. It just wasn’t fair.

Bee always stopped herself before she got too handsy, though. She didn’t want Nancy or anyone else to get too suspicious. Sure, there were other same-sex couples scattered around the Hollywood home.

Men kissed men, and women kissed women, but they were usually tucked away in the corners of the home as Bee maneuvered it.

The straight debauchery, on the other hand, was front and center for everyone’s enjoyment.

Bee never fancied herself as a voyeur, but she couldn’t keep her eyes away from John Hughes as he playfully spanked an acting school girl who had stripped down to her white slip at some point. A crowd formed around them, hooting and cheering.

There was one man Bee noticed over in that corner of the living room who didn’t look pleased to watch the display. Bee immediately recognized him as the owner of the home, Dieter Bravo.

He was famous on the Silver Screen. Devilishly handsome and horribly promiscuous—he was Hollywood’s darling.

He’d thrown this party, though. Why was he so ticked off that it was getting rowdy?

With all this alcohol and all of these women, wasn’t that the goal?

Bee didn’t strike Dieter as the type of man who enjoyed quiet evenings at home with talk radio on in the background and a mug of hot tea to warm his hand. He was whiskey and wine, cigarettes and ash, and women.

Plenty of women. Women at his disposal.

An entire acting school of women inside his living room.

This party fit him perfectly. It was exactly his style.

Then why was he so upset?

In her drunken haze, Bee almost wanted to get up and walk across the room to ask him herself. She pushed herself up from the armchair she sat in, only to be pushed back down by the weight of Nancy.

Nancy sat in her lap, and Bee wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. She was careful not to spill the drink that Nancy clung in her hand by moving her too much.

“I really don’t like Jimmy,” Nancy whined. “But he keeps talking to me, and he’s so boring. The only thing is, I think he might be able to help me get more auditions. Should I spend more time with him?”

“It’s up to you, Nance,” Bee said. “Do you want to get more auditions?”

Nancy giggled. “Yeah, of course.”

She hiccupped, and Bee rubbed her back between her shoulder blades. Nancy sighed and leaned into Bee’s touch.

“You’re going to be a star, Bee,” Nancy said. “We’ll both be stars. I’m okay with fucking my way to the top if we have to. Anything to make sure that both of us will make it. I’ll do anything.”

Bee’s heart sank. She wasn’t sure she liked hearing those words from Nancy. Well, half of it she was more than fine with. Bee wanted to be a star. She wanted to make it in Hollywood.

Sure, she knew that there was no future where she could proudly kiss Nancy in front of the world, but there were plenty of Hollywood stars who were gay behind the scenes. There were probably a dozen or more of them in Dieter Bravo’s house at this very moment.

Nancy wrestled her way out of Bee’s arms and stood.

“I want another drink,” she said. Nancy reached out and grabbed Bee’s hand. “Come with me, let’s go get another one.”

Nancy hadn’t finished the one she’d been drinking, but Bee agreed—anything to stay near her.

“We’re going to get another drink,” Nancy told Alice.

Alice was bent over at the waist. Her face neared a side table where she snorted up some white powder neatly arranged in a line. Nancy waited for Alice to finish and cleared her throat.

Bee watched on awkwardly and fussed with her skirt. There was a wrinkle where the weight of Nancy had been.

“We’re going to get another drink,” Nancy repeated when Alice sat up straight. Her eyes were wide, her lids fluttered, and she looked dazed.

“Okay,” Alice said with a smile.

“What was that anyway?” Bee asked Nancy as the two of them walked toward the kitchen.

“I’m not sure,” Nancy shrugged. “Alice knows what she’s doing. She’s always at these parties. I think it’s how she stays so skinny.”

Bee gulped. That feeling of envy was back, sitting like a rock on her chest.

“You think so?” she asked. It looked scary.

Drinking was one thing for Bee. She knew she wasn’t really supposed to do it. Drinking wasn’t becoming of a young woman like her, especially not in copious amounts. If she wanted to be a star, no one could ever know about any habits of hers. Even the biggest stars didn’t really let on that they smoked.

Men smoked cigarettes, not women.

Well, some women did. But only if they were really glamorous.

Nancy dragged Bee toward the kitchen by her hand.

Bee’s hand felt sweaty in Nancy’s grasp. They held hands all the time, but the fuzzy feeling of alcohol made the butterflies in her stomach flap their wings like they were feral. Her heart was pounding. Her head was a mess.

“Whiskey or vodka?” Nancy asked as they approached the counter.

“Vodka,” Bee answered.

Nancy grinned. “I don’t know why I even asked. I know you so well.”

You do, Bee wanted to say. You know me better than anyone.

Nancy downed the rest of her existing drink and filled her glass with more whiskey.

Then, tugging Bee by her hand, she guided them through the crowd of people back toward Alice and her group on the couches.

But, of course, their seat had been taken. With this many people, Bee knew better than to have not asked someone to watch it for them, but she’d forgotten.

Now, she and Nancy would have to stand back in the shadows in one of the only places in the living room that wasn’t already occupied by dancing bodies and heads thrown back in laughter.

“This isn’t so bad,” Nancy said once they’d settled into their dark corner. “I needed a break from the men anyway.”

She set her glass of whiskey down on a bookshelf and took Bee’s glass from her as well.

“There,” Nancy said. “Let’s dance.”

Nancy wrapped her arms around Bee’s neck and swayed to the music. Bee could hardly hear the beat or the rhythm over the sounds of people yelling and laughing and telling ridiculous stories, but it didn’t matter.

Her hands found Nancy’s hips, and Nancy melted into her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Nancy said. “I’ve always thought you were so pretty.”

Bee stiffened. Her hands went rigid on Nancy’s waist. Was she just saying that because she was drunk? Did she mean it in a friendly way or in a different way?

Oh, there were too many questions.

She just couldn’t take it anymore. Bee had to know the truth. She just didn’t have the words to ask her.

She wasn’t brave enough to do this.

Bee reached out and grabbed her vodka drink, and slammed it down. Liquid courage burned its way down her throat, bringing stinging tears to her eyes.

Then, Bee kissed Nancy like she’d always wanted to. Her lips fit perfectly against Nancy’s, and her hands moved from Nancy’s waist to find her perfect brown curls.

Her hair was so soft, like nothing she’d ever felt before. When she twisted her fingers in her hair to pull her closer, it felt like grabbing a handful of silk ribbons.

Nancy tasted of whiskey and floral perfume.

Bee wanted her so badly it hurt, and she kissed her like her life depended on it.

There was no time to consider if this changed things between them. They were roommates, but before that, they’d been the closest friends.

This was just alcohol and adrenaline. Not feelings. Right?

Nancy sighed into the kiss, breathing gentle acknowledgment back to her.

So, she wasn’t imagining it. Nancy wasn’t just saying things to her because they were friends.

Bee had won. She’d gotten the girl. She’d done it. She’d been brave enough.

When Nancy pulled back, Bee had the feeling that they were being watched. There were a hundred people packed into the tight space, and the lights were dim, but someone’s gaze bore holes into Bee’s skin.

There was only one person in the crowded room whose eyes were locked on them as Nancy backed Bee against the wall, holding the back of her head.

Just before Nancy kissed her again, Bee locked eyes with Dieter Bravo himself.

“Hey, Nanc,” Alice said just before they kissed for a second time. “I have to use the bathroom. Will you come with me to find it?”

Nancy turned around quickly and addressed her acting class friend as if nothing ever happened between them. Her hands left Bee’s body like they’d never ever been there in the first place, igniting every nerve in her body like electric shock.

Jealousy burned through Bee like liquor.

Alice. So pretty and so sweet and so perfect.

If Nancy was gay, what was stopping her from choosing Alice over her?

She just did, right now. Would Nancy kiss Alice in the bathroom? Would she change her mind?

“Be right back,” Nancy said. Then, Nancy went to find the bathroom with the girl from her acting class, leaving Bee alone in the corner with Nancy’s forgotten glass of whiskey and bruised lips.

She stared off in the direction Nancy left in, willing her to come back, playing the moment their lips touched over and over. It was a moment she’d never forget. There was no way.

“I saw that,” Dieter said, sliding against the wall next to her. His shoulder accidentally bumped against the bookcase, rattling its contents.

Bee gasped and swung around. Not even the sweet numbness of alcohol could stop the fear of having been caught kissing her best friend by none other than Dieter Bravo himself.

“Don’t worry,” he said. His words slid together like his lips had lost their feeling. Bee was familiar with how that felt. “I have one of those too.”

Bee looked at him, really looked at him. He was so tall and handsome as hell.

How could he be in the same situation as her? He was a lady killer. Everyone knew that.

“But,” Bee said stupidly. “You have sex with women.”

Dieter laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Of course I do. I have sex with a lot of women.”

“Oh,” Bee said. “Yeah, of course you do.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about his admission. It made her feel dizzy and a little bit winded, but she’d also just kissed her best friend. Her wires were all crossed.

“Do you want this?” Bee asked, unsure of what else to say. “I don’t drink whiskey.”

“That’s your friend’s drink,” Dieter pointed out. “You’re really going to give it away?”

“Oh,” Bee said. She felt dumb. She’d just said ‘Oh’ twice in a row. Why did this man make her speechless? “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So, how long?” Dieter asked.

“How long what?”

“How long have you been in love with your best friend?” Dieter pressed. “It’s been a while for me, too. Probably five years.”

“I’m not sure,” Bee said honestly.

She couldn’t remember when she’d begun to fall for Nancy. There wasn’t a day that it started. There were always days where she looked at Nancy and loved her because who couldn’t love Nancy? When that love had changed to something more, Bee couldn’t say.

“That’s the best kind of love,” Dieter said. “The type where you aren’t sure where it ends and where it begins. You just know that it’s there, and you’ll always have it.”

Bee took a sip of Nancy’s whiskey instead of responding. His words had hit too close to home. Bee sputtered and coughed. Whiskey was awful.

“Don’t do that,” Dieter scolded. He eased the glass out of Bee’s hand, warm fingertips brushing against her skin. “You shouldn’t mix dark liquor and light.”

“How do you know that?” Bee asked.

This was the first time she had heard of such a thing. She’d only known that she liked vodka more than she liked whiskey. Whiskey smelled like shoe polish, but Nancy seemed to have no trouble drinking it. Alice drank it, too.

But both of them were cool. They were the type of women who could get away with smoking cigarettes.

“I’m an alcoholic,” Dieter said nonchalantly, as if he was stating where he was from.

Bee laughed out of shock.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. Her eyes widened out of horror at her own loose lips. “I’m drunk.”

“That’s an interesting name,” Dieter said. “I’m Dieter.”

“No, my name isn’t drunk,” Bee said, confused. “My name is Bee.”

“Bee,” Dieter grinned, and it sent Bee’s heart rate soaring. Her pulse pounded in her ears like it only did when she was thinking about Nancy. “I like that name.”

“Oh, Bee,” Alice said suddenly from behind her. She quickly wound herself around Dieter, planting a kiss on his cheek as if she belonged in his arms.

Dieter grabbed onto her, but Bee wasn’t sure if he wanted to be touching her or if he grabbed her because Alice had knocked him off balance.

Her lipstick left red marks on Dieter’s cheekbone.

Dieter handed Nancy’s whiskey glass back to Bee. She held it eagerly, so excited to see Nancy again that she hardly cared about Alice’s posturing.

“I see you’ve met Dieter,” Alice said protectively. “Dieter and I might be starring in a movie together very soon.”

“Maybe,” Dieter said. “We’ll have to see.”

“That’s great,” Bee said. She didn’t care. There was something more important on her mind.

She looked around, but Nancy was nowhere in sight. Had Alice left her in the bathroom? There were so many strange men around. It wasn’t safe for her to be alone.

“Where’s Nancy?” Bee asked, panicked.

“She found a gent on the way back from the toilet,” Alice laughed. “I think they took a detour into one of the guest rooms if you know what I mean.”

Alice winked at her, and it was the last thing that Bee remembered except for the smash of the glass as she dropped Nancy’s drink to the floor.

Chapter 3, Masterlist

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #old hollywood #1950s au #wildest dreams #agentbrandy

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itsbrandy · 4 months

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Wildest Dreams Chapter 4

Wildest Dreams

Chapter 4: He's So Bad

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, drug use, smoking, old timey sexism, swearing,

Word Count: 4.9k

Dieter

“It’s intimidating. Very intimidating,” Bee had said.

Dieter tried to hold her gaze, but he felt like he’d lost her. She was off somewhere else, puzzling away what had just happened in that audition room. Staff were shouting all around them, directing people to be silent on sets while others were loudly rehearsing. Techs wheeled massive carts of equipment past on squeaky wheels, yet Bee stood solid in front of him.

He thought, for a moment, that she’d been a dream. Something willowy and wispy that if he reached out and tried to grab her, she’d simply turn to ash.

Dieter had been far from sober the night before, his mind toiling and troublesome.

Fucking John.

He’d gotten him so headfucked that it was a miracle Dieter had made it out of bed this morning. In fact, when he’d awoken, it was John in his bed, tangled up with some wannabe Hollywood starlet in the sheets. There was not a scrap of comforter on top of Dieter’s body.

“Well, congratulations,” Dieter said with a grin, shoving away the memory. “I look forward to working with you.”

Bee nodded.

“The pleasure is all mine,” she said earnestly. “Have you ever done a movie in Africa? I’ve heard it’s very hot.”

“Never,” Dieter said. “It will be a real treat.”

Bee and her friend looked at one another and smiled.

Nancy, the brunette, placed a gentle hand on the exposed skin of Bee’s forearm in a move that made Dieter’s heart start pounding.

How unfair.

He knew that touch better than anyone, how John would make a subtle play, just a caress that would look otherwise normal but held so much more meaning.

God, his heart ached.

“Anyway,” Dieter interjected, trying once again to right his brain. “You two ladies are both very talented. Where did you say you studied again?”

Bee gave an answer, but Dieter wasn’t really listening. He was caught up on the way her lips moved, the way the gloss that sat atop them caught in the light, the way the noise in the background lulled to a sudden stop.

His pills had kicked in.

Finally. It was about fucking time.

“Gotta run—sorry,” Dieter said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Sorry, we’ll chat later, I’m sure. Congrats on the roles, girls. You earned them! Great work!”

As he rushed away from them, another tech cart loaded with equipment whizzed by impossibly fast, careening down the hall. Well-–it hadn’t been fast; it was just that Dieter hadn’t noticed it. The cart collided with his body, clipping his shoulder painfully. The force of the collision sent Dieter all the way to the ground, and a painful cry wrenched from his mouth.

A series of hushes rung out from a nearby set that had been rolling.

Fuck.

“Are you alright?” Bee asked. She hovered over him, and all Dieter saw was dark eyes and dark hair falling down around her. She looked like a painting, and he wanted to reach out and smudge her face away.

Bee was too pretty. Distractingly pretty.

She was almost pretty enough to make Dieter forget about John.

About his face and his laugh and his strong frame. Dieter even loved his wrongs to go with his rights—his lies, his drugs, his drinking, his sleeping around. That’s how Dieter knew he had it bad. That and the fact that even when he got high, he couldn’t stop thinking about how badly it hurt that John didn’t really want him.

“I’m fine,” Dieter lied, propping himself up on his hands. “I can’t believe that tech. Can you believe that tech?” He turned his ire to the tech in question. “Can you fucking learn to watch where you’re going? I have a flight to Africa in a matter of days to film this studio’s next big movie. Can you imagine what would happen if you’d put me in a hospital? You would be personally responsible for the failure of this movie studio. Personally responsible. You.”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” the tech apologized.

He was young, just a kid, really, and he looked like he wanted to spill the truth—that it was Dieter who hadn’t been paying attention, not him. If he hadn’t been high, Dieter might have felt bad for lying, but he didn’t.

“Who is your supervisor? No, better yet, get to where you’re needed. I won’t have you wasting any more of this studio’s time. First, you’ve injured a star. Next, you’ll have been late and set a production schedule back,” Dieter sucked on his teeth. “Get out of here, kid.”

“Yes, sir,” the tech said, not needing to be told twice.

When Dieter turned his attention back to Bee and Nancy, Bee was collecting stray cigarettes from the ground on her hands and knees.

They must have gone flying when the collision happened. She tucked them all neatly into his box and handed it to him.

“Here,” Bee said. “Your cigarettes.”

“Thank you,” Dieter said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“And you didn’t have to scare that poor kid,” Bee pointed out.

“Bee,” Nancy hissed, shocked that her friend had been so bold to call Dieter out on his lies.

Bee looked at Nancy with wide eyes and shrugged.

But Dieter liked that Bee had confronted him. He knew he was fucked up and that he did fucked up things. There needed to be more people like Bee in this world, people who weren’t afraid to stand up to the things they found wrong.

Bee stood and brushed her skirt with her hands, smoothing it down and removing any specks of grime or dust that it had caught while she was on the ground.

Dieter followed her lead and peeled himself from the floor, cigarettes in hand and a head full of dizzying thoughts. It was time to go before he really said something idiotic and ruined everything. This was his costar now, after all. He’d have to spend weeks and weeks with her while they camped in the African savannah filming a romance movie.

“Right, well,” Dieter said, removing a cigarette from the box and tucking it between his lips. “I’d best be off. I’ll see you at rehearsals, Bee. Nice to meet you, Nancy.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Nancy said, reaching her hand out.

Dieter didn’t take it. He was too busy lighting his cigarette to notice.

“See you,” Bee called out after him.

For a moment, Dieter thought to say something back to her, but then another fleeting thought swept in to replace it, and the urge was gone. He walked down the hallway, inhaling smoke deep into his lungs. # Bee “You’re going to be great,” Nancy said as she brushed a comb through Bee’s hair.

“You’ve already gotten the role, remember? And there’s no way they can replace you or fire you this late. They need to get your papers together to send you to Africa, Bee. Freaking Africa. I’m so excited for you. You have no idea.”

Nancy had ribbons and hair spray set out to do Bee’s hair special for her first day of rehearsal. She’d also made Bee breakfast and had it sitting out ready for her to enjoy before Bee even rolled out of bed. It was these things, these acts of affection, that really made Bee wonder if there was something here that made her and Nancy more than friends.

Well, that and the kiss they’d shared at Dieter Bravo’s house. They hadn’t exactly debriefed that one, had they?

“Thank you, Nancy,” Bee said. “I know, I’m just nervous. You know how I get.”

“Miserable?” Nancy asked. “Annoying?”

Bee laughed. Yeah, that was a fair assessment. She got mopey when she was anxious and felt like the world was going to crumble down around her.

“Well, at least you don’t get three sheets to the wind at all times like Dieter Bravo,” Bee could see how Nancy shook her head with judgment in the mirror. “What a sorry soul. I can’t believe you got down and grabbed his cigarettes for him like that. And how could he lie to that poor boy’s face? He had to know what really happened.”

Bee frowned as Nancy ran the comb through her hair again.

“Hurt people hurt people, isn’t that what they say?” Bee asked. “He’s got problems, obviously. There’s something that he’s running from.”

“I suppose,” Nancy said, but it didn’t sound like she totally agreed. She likely thought he was just another drug fiend in Hollywood. “I still think he should be held accountable for his actions.”

“Well, of course,” Bee said. “I’m just saying I understand, is all. He’s obviously going through something.”

Nancy set the comb down and moved to grab a ribbon.

“That or he’s let the fame go to his head. I’ve seen it happen to far too many girls in Hollywood. They get one big role, and then they blow up their entire lives. Too much alcohol, too many drugs, too many random men, and before you know it, they’re pregnant and never see the flash of a camera ever again. That’s what happened to Betty from school.”

“I thought she had to go back to Iowa,” Bee mused.

“Why do you think she had to go?” Nancy’s voice rose up a notch to prove her point. “You can’t raise a baby in Hollywood with no job and no man.”

Nancy changed her mind and grabbed the comb again, smoothing out a section of hair at the back of Bee’s head.

Then, she stopped, putting a hand on her hip and pointing at the mirror with the comb to prove her point.

“And I heard that now, she’s just an addict in Iowa. Her momma is raising that baby, and she’s still addicted to all that fancy stuff she tried while she was out here in Los Angeles. Except, they don’t make it nice and clean like they do here. The drugs there are dirty, and they make you dirty, too. I bet she’s lost all her teeth by now.”

Bee made a face. She thought it was ugly when Nancy talked like this—she knew part of it was out of warning. Nancy really didn’t want Bee to cozy up to Dieter Bravo. She’d said as much the night before when they arrived back home from the studio. But part of this rhetoric and this speech was one of Nancy’s deeper flaws.

Nancy was competitive at heart, even though Bee thought she had no reason to be.

Nancy had everything. She was white, stunning, fit, trim, pretty, talented, smart. Every positive adjective in the dictionary fits Nancy to a perfect point.

But at her core, Nancy was jealous, and she loved to compare herself to other women.

Perhaps the best thing of all to Nancy was when another woman who was “just as good as her” fell from grace.

That was perhaps Nancy’s favorite thing, and Bee hated it.

The phone rang in the kitchen, and Nancy dropped the comb. “Oh shit, that’s Alice.”

Bee looked on hopelessly as Nancy darted from the room to answer the phone.

“Alice,” Bee said numbly. That was a reminder that she didn’t need. In the excitement of landing her first big role and meeting Dieter Bravo for the second time, and learning all her lines overnight, she’d forgotten that her new nemesis was coming to Africa with them.

Bee was left alone to finish getting ready in order to make it to rehearsal on time. As she finished putting ribbons in her hair and pinning it up just how she liked it, she tried her best to hum to herself to block out the endless giggling from the phone in the kitchen.

At least Alice was coming with her to Africa. Bee had to spin this fact in her head to make it less miserable. She wasn’t leaving Nancy behind with Alice unattended. Instead, she was stuck with her.

****

The town car that picked her up was just as nice as the one on the way to the audition had been, but this time, Bee sat alone in the backseat. Nancy hadn’t even gotten off the phone long enough to give her a proper goodbye before Bee left for the studio.

Bee was annoyed. How did Alice have the time to chat on the phone all morning? Didn’t she have to rehearse, too?

They were leaving in a matter of days. Bee held her documents close to her chest. She needed to turn them in to the directors so they could properly arrange her ticket to Africa. More specifically, they were traveling to South Africa, which was under British rule.

As Bee walked into the studio, she found that it was just as chaotic as it had been the day before despite the early hour. Filming was already going on, and shouts of “Quiet on set!” lit up Bee’s ears.

There was a woman at the front door who paraded Bee back to where they would be rehearsing for the movie–simply titled The Africa Project at the moment. It was top secret, something that the press wouldn’t be notified of until it was deemed allowed by marketing.

"The movie was to be a sort of experiment", the woman explained. The studio hadn’t yet caught up with others in the area of destination filming, and they were still weighing the cost of filming in a foreign country with the benefits of an immersive experience.

Bee listened in careful wonder. She couldn’t believe that she’d been chosen for such a groundbreaking endeavor.

If this project were successful, her name would never be forgotten. She’d be known throughout the history of film. When one day, the silver screen would be replaced by something bigger and brighter, people would remember those who came at the forefront, just like people already revered the silent film stars of the past and the stars of the stage.

The Roberts brothers were busy bickering in their chairs in front of the rehearsal stage, but Bee rolled her shoulders back and approached them with ease.

She injected confidence into her personality, just as she’d been taught in her acting classes.

“Good morning, sirs,” Bee said. She held out her packet of documents. “I was told to hand in these documents today for my ticket.”

The oldest two didn’t even look at her. They were too engrossed in their conversation.

The youngest brother, however, grabbed her folder from her and tossed it on the ground, where it fell with a loud smack.

“Thanks,” he said. “Now, places. We’re just waiting on Dieter.”

Bee felt like she’d been slapped. She blinked a few times, recovering from the harshness of the man’s tone.

“Yes, sir,” Bee said.

Bee wasn’t quite sure where places was supposed to be, as the directors hadn’t yet said which scene or part of the film they were to be rehearsing, but she walked up to the stage anyway and stood with her back straight at center stage.

She waited, hands folded in front of her, and she made sure to wiggle her knees every once in a while to avoid passing out.

She’d learned the hard way in church when she was young that locked knees would send you to the ground in a hurry.

Of course, they were waiting on Dieter. Despite her frustration that she was being left waiting even though she’d been perfectly on time, she couldn’t help but worry for him. When he’d left her behind at the studio the day before, he hadn’t been himself.

Or maybe he had been himself, and that was the issue.

A group of techs brought a table and two chairs onto the stage and didn’t say anything to Bee that let her know to get out of the way, instead shoving her aside with their bodies as if she didn’t even exist.

Bee would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t flustered.

What the hell was the matter with this studio? She’d acted before, had decent roles before, and never before had she been treated like this. Sure, she’d been overlooked before, had men talk badly about her body before, but she’d never been selected for a role and been treated like she was invisible by the staff that was below her.

Bee looked to the directors, hoping they would say something, but they didn’t. They were still embroiled in their argument, so entrenched that Bee found that she was curious enough to listen in.

“I’m telling you,” the youngest brother said. “He’s unreliable. How can we take him to Africa when he’s practically a drug fiend?”

“He likes to party,” the oldest said. “That’s all. When it comes to work, Dieter is very reliable. I’ve worked with him many times, and I’ve had no issues on set. What actor of his fame and stature doesn’t party in their time off?”

“Time off?” the middle brother chimed in. “How many times now has he shown up like this? I think this is hardly a hobby he partakes in during his ‘time off.’”

“Fine,” the youngest brother said. “I mean, we’re not in a position to find a replacement, but if you’re really worried, let’s use today as a test. I’m confident that he will show up today completely sober. It’s a rehearsal day, a work day. Yesterday didn’t count. We weren’t rehearsing anything, we weren’t filming anything. It was totally off the books.”

The other two brothers exchanged a look that was all doubt.

Bee had to be honest with herself. She’d heard the rumors; she’d seen Dieter under the influence first-hand, not once but twice now. She didn’t know him well, but even she wasn’t entirely certain that she’d wager him showing up to rehearsal sober.

“Sure,” the oldest brother said. “And if he doesn’t, then we discuss replacing him.”

The middle brother agreed with a nod. “We can’t take him to Africa if he doesn’t get his act together. South Africa is under British colonial rule, but the politics there are dicey. If he gets in trouble with drugs in Africa, it will serve as a disaster for the studio. We can’t have that.”

“Agreed,” the youngest brother said.

It was as they were shaking on their agreement that Dieter Bravo himself rounded the corner. Bee didn’t mean to, but she stiffened, fixing her posture and accidentally locking her knees.

“Hello!” Dieter said, announcing his presence. He was all loud, all energetic, so unlike he’d been the day before at the audition. When he’d been hungover, he’d seemed so down, so depressed.

Dieter walked past the directors, almost as if he knew what they’d been speaking about before he entered the rehearsal space. He made straight for the stage, walking right up to Bee.

He gave her a goofy smile. “Good to see you again, Bee.”

“Good to see you too, Dieter,” Bee said. She started to feel dizzy, started feeling like she was going to fall backwards, and she suddenly thought to unlock her knees and shake out the stiffness.

“Locked knees?” Dieter asked.

“Yes,” Bee admitted sheepishly.

“You’ll get used to it,” Dieter offered, and Bee flushed bright red.

He thought she was too novice to know better than to lock her knees. It was rudimentary, something that all stage and film actors knew better than to do, and she’d done it right in front of him on her first day.

Dieter still had a goofy look on his face, something so uncharacteristic that it gave Bee pause and made her forget about how embarrassed she’d just been.

Is he high? Bee thought. She didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell, but he was just acting so odd that she couldn’t help but wonder.

She didn’t dare ask him or let onto her thoughts. The conversation between the directors was fresh in her mind, and she couldn’t risk the future of the movie based on an assumption.

“Which scene are we doing first?” Dieter asked. He tapped his temple with his finger. “I’ve got all of my lines memorized. I can start anywhere, anytime. Preferably a kissing scene.”

The directors laughed from their seats below the stage, and Bee laughed along for fear of sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Act One, the confrontation at the table in the safari tent,” the youngest Roberts brother said. “We want Dieter in the chair he’s closest to now and Bee in the chair opposite. But Bee, if you’ll remember, you don’t take a seat until halfway through this scene.”

Bee nodded her affirmation, and Dieter heaved a sigh.

The way Dieter took his seat shook the stage beneath Bee’s feet. He didn’t quite sit as much as he threw his full body weight into the chair.

“Oops!” Dieter said with a slight giggle that had Bee narrowing her eyes at him.

How could he not be high? Dieter’s character was a deadly serious explorer, not a silly man in the slightest. So, he wasn’t in character for himself or the role he was meant to play.

The Roberts brothers weren’t paying attention, though. Instead, they leafed through the script, looking for the correct place where they wanted Bee and Dieter to start.

Bee remembered this scene. It was a confrontation between her character and Dieter’s, where she would demand to be able to remain on the expedition. Dieter’s character wanted her gone. He thought that having a woman on the scientific exploration of the savannah was a liability, but really, he was just too in love with her to trust himself to separate work and play.

She started to run through the lines in her head, summoning up the rage that her character would feel at that moment. How dare he cast her off just because she was a woman. She’d worked so hard to study the African animals. She’d been hired to take notes for him, and she was damn good at it.

Hell, she was already here, sweating and uncomfortable in the African sun. How could he send her home now?

“Alright, we’re ready,” the youngest Roberts brother said, giving them a thumbs up.

Bee pulled herself out of her head and looked to Dieter to make sure he was also ready to start the scene. It was his line that went first in this scene.

But when Bee looked at Dieter, she noticed that there was something wrong with him.

Gone was the goofy look on his face he’d given her before. Now, he looked tired. His eyes were unfocused, zoned out on the table as if he found the wood grain very interesting.

“Dieter,” Bee said.

She was about to ask him if he was alright, but then Dieter was shaking, and his bottom lip was quivering. He kept biting at it as if causing pain to himself would make it stop.

“Uhh,” Dieter droned. He started to list out of his chair, drooping toward the floor.

“Hey,” Bee said, gripping his forearms with her hands. “Hey, are you okay? Dieter, are you with me?”

“Yeah,” Dieter mumbled. His eyes were closing and opening, lids fluttering. “Don’t…feel…good.”

“I know,” Bee said. She looked over to the Roberts brothers. They were distracted again, caught up in their own world.

Bee had to get him out of here somehow, some way that would get him help without forfeiting the movie. This wasn’t fair. Dieter was a hard worker. He’d shown up to work—he just had a problem.

“I have to go to the ladies’ room really quickly,” Bee said loud enough for the Roberts brothers to hear. “Dieter volunteered to show me the way while you finish your discussion.”

“Sure,” was the answer she received. So, she pulled Dieter up from the chair and forced him forward, hoping that he would cling to consciousness long enough for her to get him out of view.

“Come on, stay awake,” she said to him as they walked. “They can’t see you like this.”

Dieter got it together quickly once she told him that. He was still shaking slightly, still biting his lip, but he walked much straighter.

“What do you need? What will help you sober up?” she hissed under her breath. They were just out of earshot of the Roberts brothers.

They stood in a dark enclave in between two rehearsal spaces. If they stayed quiet, the many people who walked past wouldn’t cast them a second glance. People were too busy to pay them any mind.

“Cigarette,” Dieter mumbled.

“Lean against the wall,” she instructed, and Dieter obliged.

Bee summoned up some courage and shoved her hands into Dieter’s front pockets in search of his cigarettes and lighter. She pulled a cigarette from the pack and placed it to her lips, striking the lighter as she inhaled to light it. Then, she took a drag, simply because she deserved it, before passing the cigarette over to Dieter.

He puffed greedily, relishing in the nicotine. Bee didn’t know much about mixing substances, but she could see how adding an upper after a downer would help him feel better.

“We have to get through at least one scene,” Bee coached him. “The Roberts brothers don’t want to see you high anymore at rehearsals or filming. I heard them talk about firing you if they see you this way. Do you understand?”

Dieter exhaled a huff of smoke and nodded. “What do we do after one scene?”

“I’m going to say I have a ladies’ issue, and then I’m going to escort you home. I need to make sure you get there safely. Understood?”

“You don’t need to do that,” Dieter protested, but he wasn’t one to talk. He was still leaning his full weight against the wall while he was quickly smoking his cigarette.

“Oh, but I do,” Bee said. “And if they try to fire me because I’m asking to leave early, you have to stand up for me. Do you understand?”

“You’re asking an inebriated man to understand quite a bit,” Dieter said.

“Beggars can’t be choosers. You don’t have many choices here.” Dieter heaved a sigh and tossed the remains of his cigarette on the ground, stamping it under his boot. Bee tried her best to reserve judgment about the littering and the fire risk of throwing still-lit cigarettes on the ground indoors.

“Another, please,” he said, reaching out for the box of cigarettes in her hand.

Bee obliged him, lighting another cigarette for him and passing it over.

“Be quick. We need to get back,” she snapped.

She hadn’t meant to sound so mean, but she was getting anxious. Was she really going to cover for him at the risk of her own career? Yes, she was, but only because she was afraid of what it would mean for the whole movie if they fired Dieter. At least with her taking the fall, there was still a chance that production could go on. It was a risk but a calculated one.

As long as Dieter held up his end of the deal and covered for her properly, she shouldn’t have anything to worry about.

“Wouldn’t it be more believable that you were having a ladies’ problem if you took long in the bathroom?” Dieter raised an eyebrow. “I think that would go along with our story well.”

He had a point.

“Fine,” Bee conceded.

“Good,” Dieter said gruffly. “Fuck, I’m going to need to sleep this one off.”

“What did you even take, Dieter?”

Dieter pursed his lips. “You know, I’m not really sure. It was something new and then I think I did a line or two before I headed out the door. Could’ve been more in-between that I don’t remember.”

Bee frowned. “That sounds dangerous.”

Dieter shrugged and took another drag. He pushed himself off from the wall, more steady now on his own feet.

Bee didn’t fully buy that smoking cigarettes was the cure for his condition, but if it worked long enough for them to get through one scene, that was all she could ask for.

****

“You’re awake,” Bee said with surprise.

She’d checked on Dieter every hour for the past three hours in a row, walking into his bedroom and turning the light on to make sure he was still breathing. He was tucked gently under the covers, hardly moving as he slept off his bender.

This time, though, when she walked into Dieter’s room, he was stirring, starting to sit up in bed, looking thoroughly confused. His dark brown eyes looked tired, and his brow was furrowed.

Bee reached out to touch him but then jerked her hand back, letting it fall. She didn’t want to startle him. It was bad enough that he likely didn’t remember getting home, let alone waking up to a stranger in his house.

He’d made it through their scene but not for much longer after that. Bee had arranged a town car quickly, and he’d passed out as soon as the two of them climbed into the backseat.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asked. “I took you home after rehearsal, remember?”

“I’m alive,” Dieter mused. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands near the front. “Fuck, I have a headache. Do you have any whiskey?”

Bee choked back a laugh. “No, I don’t. And you need something else that starts with a ‘w.’”

“What’s that?” Dieter frowned.

“Water,” Bee insisted, furnishing a glass from the bedside table. “Drink up.”

Dieter looked at the glass of water like he hoped it was vodka instead.

“Fine,” he said. Then he looked up at her with something unreadable in his dark eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bee said. “When you finish that, we need to talk.”

Chapter 5 Masterlist

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo #dieter and bee universe #agentbrandy #1950s au #old hollywood #wildest dreams

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itsbrandy · 5 months

Text

Burnout Dieter POV 2

Summary: Takes place between chapters 9 and 10

Word Count: 8.3k

Dieter floated through the rest of his day. From interview to interview, he put on his best show of not being a totally hopeless, utterly lost lovesick puppy. The questions were all the same: easy softballs to launch, and the interviewers were well-trained and professional, but there was something about his experience with Bee that had something intangible. Something other.

Something that Dieter worried might have ruined promotional interviews for him for the rest of his life.

After his day and by the time he’d navigated through the familiar stop-and-go of L.A. traffic, he already had a mental list of ways to see Bee again. The list was totally insane, and there wasn’t a single good option on it, but Dieter was desperate.

He wanted to send her something at her work or show up there. Some grand gesture, something to make her see him. Flowers or a cake or maybe a request for another tour? Maybe he could do something subtle and send her a letter. That way, she could open it privately.

Plus, he’d have to include his phone number if he wanted Bee to get in touch with him afterward. As much as he liked her from their brief interactions, he wasn’t sure if he could trust writing his private cell number down like that. The chances that a receptionist or office assistant opened the mail at the office and sorted it were too high.

So, Dieter pictured all the possible outcomes. Some were positive, and some were negative, but at the end of his pro and con list was one glaring issue: Bee could turn him down—she was still in a relationship, after all.

And that was it. He couldn’t contact her. Not while he knew that she was still in a relationship. Dieter readied himself for bed with the weight of his decision sitting on his chest.

Still, the Google search bar called his name. He wanted to know more about her, even if he couldn’t have her. But all he had was a nickname. He wouldn’t even know how to find her.

Instead, he Googled “how many people in LA,” and when the search result showed 3.849 million, he locked his phone and rolled over. Unless there were some act of divine intervention, Dieter would never have a chance with Bee.

On a whim, right before he closed his eyes and fell asleep, he texted his agent.

[Dieter]: Do you think Disney would be open to a part two? Had a great time today.

The next two days were miserable. He was late to an interview on Thursday and completely forgot about a photo shoot on Friday that he made it to on time only by the goodwill of no accidents on the freeway. But Dieter wasn’t familiar with this feeling—was he depressed?

Dieter had been ignoring his phone, and by the time he’d made it back to his house on Friday evening, he hadn’t checked his email all day. He didn’t feel up to cooking. As soon as he’d thought about cooking dinner, he wondered if Bee was as good of a cook as she was a baker. While he knew that the skills didn’t always necessarily translate, he couldn’t help but be romantic when he thought of her.

Most of his emails were boring, and for many of them, he simply clicked so that the notification would go away. He had no idea why so many people copied both him and his agent on interview and audition offers. If there were anything worth his time, his agent would let him know.

Further down in his inbox, a message caught his eye. It was from Sam, the director of the Netflix project he was going to be working on next.

Hey Dieter,

Attached is a list of actresses who will be auditioning for us in person tomorrow at HQ.

We’ve got a new list of options for you to look at for Celine. Some of them have headshots, and some of them have video auditions also.

There are also some other minor roles included. I’ve marked those. Take a look and let me know what you think!

Thanks,

Sam

“Finally,” Dieter said aloud.

Forgetting about his takeout, he headed straight for the stairs to retrieve his laptop from his bedroom and take a look at the options. Everything about this project hinged on finding the perfect leading lady for the brand. She had to have the wow factor they were looking for. Otherwise, what were they even doing this for?

There were 12 files attached to Sam’s email. Dieter was a big believer in “eating the frog,” or doing the most difficult task first. So, he started with the video auditions.

They were all awful. No, that was harsh. They weren’t awful. Each of the women had talent, and it was clear they were chosen to audition this weekend for a reason. But again, none of them had that star quality. There was no emotion in the way they spoke, and the words didn’t quite reach their eyes.

Dieter felt guilt for judging the women so quickly by the way they looked, but it was what set the Bridgerton series apart. The casting was race-blind, filled with unique beauty and not the standard Hollywood look that everyone was used to seeing.

Next, he turned his attention to the headshots. While looking at headshots wasn’t a great way to see if an actress would be a good fit or not, he could still make a determination based on look.

The first headshot was an alright option. The actress was only 22, but she could definitely play older. She was Black and had expressive eyes that were more than capable of telling a story.

Dieter could also picture her in the costuming for the period. He wrote her name down in his notes as his favorite so far. He’d be excited to see her audition in the morning. Hopefully, she aced the screen test—they needed to cast someone quickly.

He navigated to the next option, finding the headshot and information of a white girl with brilliant red hair and freckles. She had an angular nose rather than the typical button nose of Hollywood, so Dieter thought she was an okay option as well. Dieter listed her as another potential option.

This batch of auditions would be very interesting. The casting agents were finally giving them exactly what they’d asked them for. Rather than feeling dread at the early morning call time, Dieter was excited, and he still had two more headshots to go.

The third headshot made Dieter dizzy when he looked at it. The actress was stunning, effortlessly beautiful. She was Asian, with sleek black hair. But best of all, or perhaps worst of all, Dieter knew her.

The woman in the headshot was Bee. Even though she wasn’t wearing her Disney uniform or primped with camera-ready makeup, she was Bee. There was no doubt in Dieter’s mind. And when he checked the details alongside the photo, he saw her first and last name proudly displayed. Except, the first name listed wasn’t her first name.

She’d listed Bee, the nickname he revitalized for her from her childhood. It almost felt like she was communicating with him. Her childhood dream was to become an actress. What was it she’d said in the interview?

“Yeah, but of course, it doesn’t work out that way for everyone. Dreams change, and my dream changed to making amazing creations for Disney lovers of all ages,” she had said.

So then, what are you doing in my list of auditions tomorrow, Bee? Dieter thought.

There was no way she knew he was involved in the project and magically scored an audition just to see him again—that was just too farfetched.

What was this then? Was this the divine intervention he’d been waiting for?

He put Bee at the top of his list without a second thought. She’d need to prove herself in the audition, but she’d caught his eye more than anyone had ever before. Bee fit every item on his list of qualities needed for the role of Celine—every single one.

He closed his laptop without looking at the fourth and final headshot and typed out a message to Sam on his phone.

Hey Sam,

These options are incredible. I’m so excited for the auditions tomorrow. This batch is definitely better than the previous one. Do you think we can do screen testing for chemistry too tomorrow?

Let me know,

Dieter

It was selfish to ask for chemistry testing just because he knew Bee was going to be there. He knew it was, but if she made it through the first round of auditions, the next round would be chemistry testing anyway, and he was too excited to wait. If he was going to see Bee again tomorrow, he wanted to have the chance to act with her.

Sam responded right away with a simple I know, right! And sure, a screen chemistry test sounds great. We should have enough time.

Dieter typed back Great! and set his phone upside down on his bedside table. If he picked it up again, he’d do something stupid like Facebook stalk her or text a friend about her. He needed to focus. His takeout was getting cold downstairs, and he needed to prepare himself to meet his dream girl for the second time this week.

When Dieter awoke on Saturday for a day full of casting at the Netflix HQ, he had a text from his agent. The Disney bakery follow-up segment had been approved by higher-ups. He’d almost forgotten about the request he’d sent his agent to look into it. It was a last-ditch effort to try to see Bee again, but now it was totally unnecessary.

Today, he would see Bee. She would show up for her audition, and she’d knock it out of the park and then—

Well, he wasn’t certain what would come after that. What were the odds that she’d broken up with her boyfriend in the last three days?

Dieter knew that he was attractive. He was obviously a catch, but he wasn’t worthy of ending a long-term relationship over, even if that relationship was on the rocks. So, maybe he could be her friend instead. That would satisfy his curiosity, at least. And then maybe if he waited it out, then he could be there for her when she made her choice.

If they stayed together forever, he would have to be okay with that too.

Ugh, when did he get so hopeless? Unrequited love was so not Dieter’s thing. Hell, love wasn’t even Dieter’s thing. He was sure he wanted to fall in love someday, but he’d never put much thought into what love would look like for him. As a celebrity, things were different.

People coupled and uncoupled regularly just for the headlines more than they married as a true love match. He would probably date an actress here, a musician there, have a couple of star-powered children just to make a legacy, and then work until he died.

But what if that didn’t have to be his fate? What if Bee achieved her dream of becoming an actress and then she chose him? Then, he could marry for love and have kids that weren’t just for the purpose of staying relevant. He might be able to have a family—a real family.

Dieter showered and prepped himself to see Bee. He needed to be there early to help Sam and Claire anyway. This audition was a make-or-break for the show. If they weren’t able to cast anyone this week, the show was at risk of being dropped by Netflix.

He drove to the studio and made it there before 9, with plenty of time before the auditioner’s call time to get his bearings.

They were casting several roles today, with Celine being the priority. The smaller roles didn’t matter nearly as much as the leading lady.

Dieter watched as the production crew set up the cameras for the day. Each audition would be recorded and reviewed separately to see if the actors could convey to the camera what they showed off for the room.

Then, he sat in his assigned seat and waited for Claire, Sam, and the others to show up.

When they did, Dieter greeted Claire, Sam, and the other producers and settled in for a long day of watching prospective actors try their hand at landing a huge role in a Netflix show.

The first round of auditions was primarily for the smaller roles in the show, followed by a trio of auditions for Celine. Two of the three had submitted video auditions that Dieter found lackluster, but their in-person performances were better. Still, they didn’t quite have the uniqueness that they were looking for.

When Sam asked if the first two were ones he was interested in performing a screen chemistry test, he declined. They were desperate to cast the role of Celine, but they weren’t that desperate. The third Celine audition was much better. She was the freckled redhead who only submitted a headshot.

For her audition, they went forward with a compatibility test. She was almost as tall as him, and they looked awkward in the frame together when Dieter reviewed the footage afterward. No, she wouldn’t do either.

By then, it was nearing 11 a.m., and Dieter was starting to grow anxious that Bee would be arriving soon. They broke for a union break and ducked behind one of the screens to get away from the view of auditioners. Dieter tried his best to spend time reconnecting with Claire and Sam, settling in for what would be months of filming out of the country.

He liked Claire, remembering her fondly from their shared years in the spotlight. Sam was one of his favorite directors, and soon they were easily cracking jokes and laughing until the minutes of their break were over.

“Quiet, everyone!” a production assistant yelled, signaling that it was time for them to return to their seats. “It’s time to start round two of auditions, starting with the role of Celine!”

Dieter searched for Bee as soon as he followed Claire out from behind the screen. She would be in this next round of auditions, according to the schedule, and he could feel his heart thundering in his ears.

Sam’s walkie-talkie went off, and through the muffled speaker, a PA asked if someone could let Dieter know that a compatibility test was needed on this audition. Of course, it was.

Dieter hadn’t been the only one to notice Bee’s unique beauty. The higher-ups at Netflix had too—and she was their favorite.

His palms went sweaty at the thought. Which scene would they pick? Would he have to kiss her?

Why was he so excited for it? She had a boyfriend—he couldn’t be excited about kissing a taken woman. But yet he was. He was just so curious about her. Despite his reservations, he still wondered what her lips would feel like against his, how she would taste, how she would smell.

And then he saw her. Bee was walking with an assistant, who was guiding her toward them. Her head was held high, so confident that Dieter almost didn’t recognize her. She smiled effortlessly and walked in front of the white backdrop to film her audition.

“Hello, everyone, my name is Bee, and I am auditioning for the role of Celine. I am currently represented by Mark Carter,” she said.

Dieter had to think to avoid letting his jaw drop open unconsciously.

Sam was speaking to her, giving her instructions on which side to read, but Dieter couldn’t even hear her. It was like there was the fuzziness of a TV without a satellite signal in his brain. Claire stood up from her seat and joined Bee in front of the camera, and Dieter suddenly realized which scene they were doing. He sat still, trying to keep his face neutral as he followed along with the script and watched them portray the scene.

Immediately, he knew that Bee was good.

He’d wished, for her sake and for his, that she’d pursued her dream of being an actress sooner. She was flawless—punctuating each word that needed emphasis with the exact emotion that the scene called for. Her eyes were glassy with emotion, filled with the anger that Celine had built up, the frustration she had with her closest friend.

Bee shook her head and rolled her eyes in a way that sent chills down Dieter’s spine.

“You’re selfish, Willa. You want me to believe I can’t marry him so that you can instead. Well, you can have him.”

“Thank you, ladies,” the director said—interrupting the scene midway through. They usually only did that when they didn’t like what they saw. “Can we move to the next side, please? Number 4?”

Dieter panicked. He didn’t know Side 4. He’d only prepared one scene for today’s auditions. He was a good actor, sure, but even good actors had limited brain space for characters and lines. There was only so much a human could remember.

“They weren’t asked to prepare for that one,” one of the producers piped up.

“Well, can someone get me two scripts, please?” Sam asked, snapping her fingers. “One for Bee and one for Dieter. I need to see them both in this scene.”

Sam sounded eager, and Dieter knew exactly what that meant. He was on the same page.

Bee had been far and away, the best audition they’d seen for Celine so far. Her interaction with Claire was on point. Her look was divine.

“I guess we could’ve just given them the other printouts, but I love the look of a good old-fashioned script binder,” Sam laughed as Dieter faced Bee, the hulking script heavy in his hands.

Bee laughed, too, and Dieter thought the sound was hypnotic.

“Which page is it?” Bee asked.

“I think it’s 57. Let me just find it,” Sam wet her fingers with her tongue and flipped through, and Dieter flipped through the pages of his own script to try to locate the scene sooner.

He was so nervous. He couldn’t look at her, but he played it cool. Maybe things would feel better when he was in character. If he were Duncan and she were Celine, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so spooked.

“Not sure if I remember this one,” Dieter said, trying to break the awkwardness.

“What? You’re not studying the script day and night?” Claire teased.

Dieter shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s too early.”

“Not for me,” Claire said. “I’m so excited. I can’t stop reading it.”

The rest of the team agreed with Claire vehemently, but Dieter didn’t. He hated overreading a script. It made him second-guess himself about how he was portraying the role.

He’d only read the pieces that were necessary for getting through these auditions so far. It wasn’t until they were closer to rehearsals that he’d start memorizing for real.

“What?” Dieter asked. “I get too nervous if I’m overprepared.”

Claire looked at him like he was crazy, and even Sam was a bit skeptical, but it was Bee who spoke up in his defense, much to his surprise.

“I actually relate to that,” Bee said. She flipped to page 57 of the script with a delicate twist of her wrist.

“See?” Dieter joked, gesturing to Bee. “I’m relatable, too.”

As soon as the words exited his mouth, he regretted them. Was he flirting with a spoken-for woman now? Or was he flirting or just being friendly?

“Okay, okay,” Sam interrupted his thoughts. “It’s actually page 58, so just one over now. Starting from where Celine says, ‘I hate you.’ And I’ll give you both a minute to read over it and make sure you kind of get the feel for it. This scene is where Duncan, aka Dieter, has stolen Celine’s dance card, which is her list of gentlemen who wish to court her for the evening. She has approached him by the lemonade station to demand it back, which is very unladylike, and as the fight occurs, Duncan decides that he thinks she is very beautiful.”

Dieter had already decided that he thought Bee was very beautiful. In fact, while Sam was speaking, he was only half-listening.

While Bee had her head turned toward Sam, listening closely to her every word, Dieter was looking at Bee’s side profile, observing every peak and valley of her face—where her cheekbone jutted out and then created the soft curve of her cheek, the gentle slope of her nose, and the curve of her chin.

“Got it,” Dieter said. “I do remember this part.”

And he did. It was a pivotal scene in the show. This was important to get right, and half the work was hiring actors who had enough chemistry. He read over the scene, noticed the spikes in emotions, and formulated a plan for how he would portray Duncan in this moment.

“I’m ready,” Dieter said when he was done reading over his lines. He looked up at Bee, but Bee kept her eyes focused on the page in front of her.

“I’m ready,” Bee said, rolling her shoulders back.

“Alright, I’ll read you two in!” Sam’s enthusiasm was almost contagious. “The music fades a bit, and we see Celine at the edge of the dance floor. Every other lady in her vicinity is being led onto the floor by a young gentleman except for her.”

“I see that my dance card is missing,” Bee said, snapping into character.

She met his eyes, and he almost broke character when holding her gaze. There was so much that he wanted to say to her. Even just so much as ‘Hi, how are you?’ or ‘Nice to see you again.’

Only the guilt and shame of knowing she had someone at home reminded him of what he was here to do.

No, Dieter. You have to focus. You are Duncan, and she is Celine, he told himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dieter read his lines aloud and gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Gentlemen aren’t given dance cards.”

“I didn’t give you anything,” Bee said, turning up the sass. “You know that I didn’t give it to you. I wouldn’t even add you to my dance card if my mother begged me to on her knees. So, give it back.”

Dieter smiled at her and held her eyes. It was easier this time. He refused to let himself think that she was Bee.

“Do you really have so many men on your dance card that you’ve forgotten all of their names?” he taunted.

“Maybe,” Bee said.

Her cheeks even flushed! On command!

“Are you sure?” Dieter teased. He took a step closer to her, and that vanilla cupcake scent caught him off guard. With the script binders in their hands, they were nearly touching. Did he want to touch her?

He did. He decided against his better judgment. And as his eyes scanned along the page to prepare himself for the next emotional beat of the scene, he realized that there was a kiss at the bottom of the page, and Sam hadn’t yet called for them to stop.

Would Sam stop them? This was work, after all. This was a kiss for a multi-million dollar contract. If they were testing compatibility, they might as well test compatibility. There were so many kisses scattered throughout the script.

“I am asking you to give me back the dance card that belongs to me,” Bee said, her voice low and quivering. “And if I have to continue to ask you, then soon it won’t be asking.”

“Will it be begging then?” Dieter challenged.

“No!” Bee gasped, taking a step away from him.

“Hm, that’s not as interesting as what I was hoping for then,” Dieter said. “I suppose you can’t always get what you want, though.”

“I want my dance card,” Bee said. “Give it to me, now.”

“Will you ask me nicely?” Dieter stepped toward her again, making sure there was no distance between them anymore. “Will you?”

“No, give me my dance card,” Bee said, and Dieter took another oppressive step toward her.

If Sam hadn’t stopped them already, Dieter knew that she wasn’t going to. No, they wanted to see the kiss.

“Can I propose that we make a trade for it instead?” Dieter asked.

Mentally, he was counting down the lines until he would get to feel how her lips felt, to weave his fingers through her hair. Maybe that’s not how the kiss would be on-screen—Bee would have her hair up in an updo instead of gently brushing her collarbones.

Dieter closed his binder after memorizing his next line, and he swore his body kicked into autopilot. He was a man possessed as he took another half-step toward her.

“I propose,” Dieter said. “That I get something in return for your dance card. A token of the evening of sorts.”

He took hold of her script binder, trusting that she’d done the same, and glanced ahead at the next lines. He slid the binder from her grasp and closed it before bending to drop it on the floor gently. Bee looked frightened, but her lips parted. Dieter’s pulse thundered in his neck and pounded in his head. He could hardly hear her as she delivered her next line.

“What’s that?” she squeaked.

“A kiss,” Dieter said, bending his neck to hover his face before hers. He paused for a second, giving her time to step away and call off the scene if she needed to, but when she didn’t, Dieter tangled his fingers in her dark hair and pressed his body against hers as their lips joined.

He could feel where each part of her fit against him, like the perfect puzzle piece he hadn’t known he was searching for.

And as she breathed him in and wound her arms around his neck to hold him impossibly closer, Dieter shuddered as her touch sent electricity up his spine. No one stopped them—no one yelled “CUT!” or interrupted them, so Dieter deepened the kiss, exchanging the featherlight touches of lips with firmer presses.

He couldn’t remember a kiss like this, real or on-screen. And it was just a kiss! Not anything more than that, but he kissed her like he knew her. Fuck, he was kissing her like he was Dieter, and she was Bee.

“Woo!” Sam called out, and the applause and cheers broke out amongst the people in the room. Dieter wanted to laugh—she couldn’t even bring herself to say “Cut.”

This was in the bag. Bee was Celine—Dieter knew it the moment they started the scene, but if it was a compatibility that Netflix was looking for, they were not going to find a more compatible actress for him than Bee.

Despite his wish to stay close to her, Dieter pulled his hand away from Bee’s neck and took a large step back.

“How’s that for a compatibility test?” Sam joked, jotting down a note that Dieter could only think of saying, ‘THIS ONE YES.’ “Thank you, Bee, thank you, Dieter.”

Sam continued to talk to Bee, but Dieter had to get out of there before he said something stupid. There were many options of idiotic things that sat right on top of his tongue. The brutish, male side of him wanted to ask her if her boyfriend ever kissed her like that—and how insane was that???

No, he had to get out of here. So as Sam told Bee that Netflix would be in touch with heragent, Dieter made a break for behind the screen, where he could get a grip on himself and reality.

To calm himself down, Dieter made a checklist in his mind of things that were true and false.

True:

● That kiss was the best kiss he’d ever had in his entire life.

● Bee was an amazing actress.

● Bee deserved the role of Celine.

● Bee has a boyfriend.

False:

● Bee felt the same way that he did.

● Bee and Dieter could be more than just friends.

But after a moment of taking a selfish pause away from reality to sort out his feelings, Dieter couldn’t help but feel bad for disappearing on Bee. He should have thanked her for performing with him and should have reassured her that she did great during her audition. But when Dieter returned from around the bend of the screen, Bee had already left the building.

Despite the mental list he’d just made, he still wanted to be her friend. Especially if they were to be coworkers, he needed to be kinder to her. She didn’t deserve him coming off as rude or uncaring just because he couldn’t get his damn emotions under control.

So, with the two ‘False’ entries on his list in mind, Dieter chased after her, hoping to find her still by her car. Of course, he wasn’t sure what her car looked like, but this part of the parking lot was on the small side.

Dieter stepped out of the cool air conditioning and into the dry heat of Los Angeles in pursuit of Bee. His steps were hurried, taking full advantage of his long legs—until he drew up short.

Bee was parked right out front, and Dieter had only made it down the steps, and he was right upon her. He’d already planned the words out in his head—a white lie. Something along the lines of ‘Sorry, I had to take a phone call. Just wanted to tell you that you did a great job!’

Except, he’d planned to say those words to her before he saw that she wasn’t okay.

She was standing outside of her car, tears dripping down her face, snot bubbling at her nose, and her hand was shoving her key into the door lock but repeatedly missing. And despite his mental list, poor, hopeless Dieter needed to help her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Bee looked up at him. Welling tears turned her dark eyes glassy, and her nose was pink at the tip.

“I just really miss my dogs,” she choked out. The tears as they spilled over the edges of her eyes and created a river down her cheeks.

Fuck. Losing a pet is the worst. Dieter hated sad animal things, but he stood firm.

“Oh no, did something happen to them?” he asked. He tried to think of something else he could say to make her feel better. But when you lose an animal you love, there’s not much that can help to ease the pain—going to pet other dogs? The worst. Ice cream? A temporary fix.

Bee laughed, and more tears fell from her eyes as a result. “No, I just might have to give them up to my ex. It’s fine, though. It’s really not your problem.”

Ex.

Now, that word challenged everything for him. It was completely reasonable that Bee could have a different ex she was referring to. Hell, she was gorgeous. She could have most men—most people—in the world. But could this also be explained by his other theory? Could Bee have broken up with her boyfriend after the Disney promo shoot?

But giving animals up to an ex could also be a sign of something seriously wrong. Dieter set his selfish thoughts aside and focused on the woman before him.

“Oh,” he said. “Are you safe?”

“I’m safe,” Bee said. Her tears slowed. “Just a little sad, is all.”

Dieter didn’t know what to say. If she was safe, he didn’t need to help. If she was sad, he could help, but he couldn’t do much without blurring the lines and boundaries he knew needed to be put in place.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I just wanted to let you know that I think you killed it in your audition, Bee,” Dieter said. “I think you are a really good fit for the part.”

“There’s more to audition still,” Bee said with a shrug. “But thank you.”

She was right. There were more auditions for the role of Celine, but Dieter doubted any of them would hold a candle to her performance. Dieter couldn’t tell her as much. There were too many people involved in the decision of casting for him to get her hopes up like that. It wouldn’t be fair, especially if it were something as silly as paperwork that denied her the role.

But at the same time, Dieter did want to give her hope. She deserved to know how he felt about her performance.

“Don’t be humble,” he said. “I really think that this role was made for you. I’m going to recommend that they cast you, just so you’re prepared.”

“Wow, thank you, Dieter. I don’t even know what to say,” Bee said. She wiped at the tears on her cheeks to dry them off.

“Well, it’s not for certain, but I just thought you should know that I think it should be you. Even if you don’t get it, I want you to keep going. I could even text you the projects I’m auditioning for. I really want to work with you sometime,” Dieter said. He hadn’t planned it, but he couldn’t help but ask. They could be friends. That’s all they needed to be. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “What’s your number?”

Bee looked unsure as she said her number, which only confirmed Dieter’s doubts. She definitely still had a boyfriend. But they would be friends. He could help her with the industry and still get to see her.

She deserved that much. She had talent, and her dream job was well within reach.

“Got it! I’ll text you so you have mine,” Dieter said. “Get home safe, okay? And let me know if you need any help with your dogs. I might be able to pull some strings.”

He didn’t have any dog custody lawyers on file, but he did have a lawyer and a scary security guard he knew. But even though his offer of help was weak at best, Bee started crying more.

“Thank you,” Bee said. “That really means a lot to me, Dieter.”

“It’s really nothing,” Dieter said with a wave of his hand. “Anything for a friend.”

Dieter had to say it out loud because if he didn’t call her his friend, he worried he would scare her off. What he really wanted to do was hold her close like he’d just done in their scene. He could kiss it better. They could talk about her ex and how much of an asshole he was until dawn, for all he cared.

“Thank you,” Bee repeated. “I really appreciate you, Dieter.”

The words took his breath away, but so did the frantic text messages coming through from Claire and Sam.

[Claire]: Where are youuuuuuuuuu?

[Sam]: Next Celine is waiting on you.

[Sam]: Hello?

[Sam]: Gotta stay on schedule, Dieter.

He typed out a quick “Be right there.”

“And I appreciate you, Bee. I gotta get back inside. You take care,” he said.

He waved at her this time, guilty that he had to go so soon and leave her with her tears and stressful situation. He’d rather skip the rest of the auditions to help her. There was no way they would recommend another Celine for casting. Okay, maybe there was a way. There was still a chance that Sam liked another actress better than Bee—but still.

Dieter made his way back inside and made sure to text Bee so she had his number in case she needed anything.

[Dieter]: Hey, Bee! It’s Dieter. 🙂

Her response came quickly, as the next Celine was receiving instructions from Sam on which side to perform. He felt guilty checking his phone, but he couldn’t resist making sure that Bee had given him the correct number.

[Bee 🐝 ]: Hey! I’ve got your number saved now. Thank you for being so kind!

He texted her back immediately, needing to put his phone away before the actress began.

[Dieter]: Hope we get to work together on this project! Fingers crossed.

And that was the last time he’d had a moment to look at his phone until the afternoon rolled around. There were other actresses he was asked to perform with for compatibility purposes, but none of them were as good as Bee was, and Sam always cut off the scene before they made it to a spot where a kiss was indicated in the script.

He thought she had it in the bag, which was great news for Bee, but Dieter was starting to second-guess his excitement. Of course, he wanted her to get the role. He wasn’t the type of guy to selfishly wish bad outcomes on a person just because they were taken. But still, now, he wasn’t so sure if it was a great idea for him to be in such close proximity to Bee over months of filming and making out for the camera.

Dieter sent Bee a text after the conclusion of the last Celine’s performance. She was a bottle blonde who put on an overaggressive British accent for her audition that sounded like a caricature more than a character.

[Dieter]: I still stand by it. The best audition of the day. How’s your afternoon going?

There were still more auditions to go for the other minor roles, so Dieter sat and observed them while he waited for Bee to text back. Claire took off halfway through the second half of the audition day. Something about a family emergency, and before she left, they briefly discussed the role of Celine.

“I think Bee,” Sam said.

“Absolutely,” Dieter agreed. “I don’t think anyone else came close.”

“That was some kiss,” Claire said. “But I think she’s great for it. For full disclosure, I sort of have become personal friends with her in the last few days. We have the same agent.”

Claire looked at him as if she knew something when she spoke, but Dieter thought better than to fess up about asking for Bee’s number after the audition. There was no foul play here. This was Hollywood.

Everyone knew each other, kissed each other, and slept with each other. Hell, nepo babies were less than a joke and more of a reality. Besides, no one could even make an argument that Bee was favored for the role because he and Claire knew her. She was just that talented.

After Claire left, he continued to monitor his phone for a response from Bee. She never did reply, though, not through the hours of auditions or Dieter’s drive home or even around dinner time. He started to grow worried. Was it him, or was it her? Was she okay, or was she just not that into him?

Sam called him around 6 p.m. to let him know that Bee had won the role of Celine, and Dieter only felt dread. Still, he asked Sam if he could be the one to break the news to her, and Sam agreed.

If only she would text him back.

By the time it started to get dark out, he decided he should text Claire and ask just to make sure she was alright. In his defense, she had reported some concerning circumstances when they’d last spoken. It was well within his right to double-check and make sure that she was okay.

Besides, he had good news for her—news he wanted to be the one to share to cheer her up if she was still upset. He was sitting at his kitchen counter, putting off making dinner, when he finally typed out his message to Claire.

[Dieter]: Hey, I just wanted to know if you knew if Bee was okay. I spoke to her after the audition earlier, and she seemed a little upset.

Claire started typing immediately, and Dieter held his breath in his chest while he awaited her response. The message came through with a chime that startled him, even though he knew it was coming.

[Claire]: Yeah, she’s okay! It’s been a tough day. She crashed on my couch.

On Claire’s couch? Why is she at Claire’s house and not at her own? He couldn’t ask that, though. Instead, he asked if he could come over. That way, he could see her in person and be the one to make her day. Maybe he would even make her life. This was the role of a lifetime.

He’d never been to Claire’s house, but they had hung out plenty at parties for other projects, award shows, and general Hollywood shenanigans. Dieter liked Claire. She was fun and friendly, and she didn’t mind that Dieter preferred to stay away from getting close to Hollywood types.

[Dieter]: What a funny coincidence. I have news for her. Do you think I could come over to share it?

Claire’s response was a bit delayed, and he imagined the two of them squabbling over it.

[Claire]: Yeah, as long as you don’t make fun of her for her puffy eyes. She’s been crying, but she seems okay now.

But then Bee’s text came at the same time, and he knew that Claire and Bee were definitely talking about him. It made him nervous. Butterflies in his stomach, nervous.

[Bee 🐝 ]: Sorry! Long day, I crashed on Claire’s couch unexpectedly. I’m glad to hear it, though.😀 How was yours?

The text made his heart soar, but Claire’s message was much more important to respond to. If he could see her, then he could tell her that she got the role. He’d be the one to save the day.

[Dieter]: I promise I won’t. I figured something was up. When I talked to her earlier, she was crying too, but I’ve got news that will cheer her up, hopefully.

[Claire]: By all means, come on over then.

In the next message, Claire sent the address to her condo, and Dieter rushed to the bathroom to look in the mirror. He looked alright. A little tired. There were definitely dark circles underneath his eyes, but nothing that a rush of adrenaline wouldn’t fix.

He sprayed his cologne on his neck and ran his fingers through his hair before departing for Claire’s condo. It wasn’t a far drive, but with every minute that passed, Dieter’s nerves were becoming more and more frazzled.

Finally, he pulled up outside the building and parked on the street before sending a quick text to Claire that let her know he’d arrived. He still hadn’t responded to Bee’s message, and he considered doing so but then thought better of it. He’d see her in minutes, seconds, maybe. Dieter stepped out of his car and walked up to the door.

He knew what he’d say when he saw Bee, and that made him feel more comfortable. In his head, he rehearsed the line over and over so that it felt normal in his mouth.

He expected Claire to open the door, but it was Bee who stood there. Her dark hair was messy, and her eyes were puffy, just like Claire had warned him. She looked as if she’d been through hell and back, but she’d done so well in her audition.

When he realized it was Bee who opened the door, he grinned and said, “Congrats, costar.”

“Congrats?” Bee asked. She looked adorably confused.

“Breathe, Bee,” Dieter said. It was so easy to playfully tease her, just like he had at the Disney promo shoot. “Maybe you need to pinch yourself too to prove that you aren’t dreaming. Whatever you need to do, just do it.”

From the couch, Claire laughed loudly. “Surprise, bitch! You’re a star, Bee!”

Then, there was the sound of dogs barking, and Dieter couldn’t help but smile. He wasn’t sure what had transpired throughout the day, but for Bee’s sake, he hoped those were her dogs.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” Bee said.

She looked incredulous, like for her entire life, she’d doubted herself and never thought she’d be capable of securing a role like this one. Dieter remembered that feeling. He’d been there one day, young and impressionable and hopeful but also so filled with self-doubt.

Bee had talent, though. She had the look. She was born to be a star.

“Are you going to let me in, or do I have to stay outside all night?” he teased.

“Oh shit, yes, come in,” Bee said. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

You shouldn’t be, Dieter thought. You’re that good.

But he didn’t say that. He didn’t want to lay it on too thick.

“Who are the puppies?” Dieter asked. He crouched down to pet a dark brown dog who had approached him. The other one, a white, fluffy thing, was still seated atop Claire’s lap.

“They’re mine,” Bee said, and Dieter was so happy.

He didn’t want to pry, but he wanted to know everything. Why had her ex almost taken them? Why was she at Claire’s? How had she convinced him not to keep them?

“This is Fudgy, and Marshmallow is over on Claire’s lap,” she continued, pointing out who was who.

They were adorable names for adorable dogs. Named by a frustratingly adorable woman.

Claire laughed. “He’s my baby now.” She gently nudged Marshmallow off her lap and stood with a stretch. “Want something to drink, Dieter?” Claire asked, making her way to the kitchen. “I’ve got wine, beer, spirits.”

“A true Hollywood bartender,” Dieter joked. “I’ll have what you two are having.”

“We haven’t started drinking yet, so it looks like a whole big glass of nothing is in your future.”

“Well, then nothing is fine,” Dieter said. A flush rose to his cheeks. He was just trying to be agreeable.

“I’ll have a glass of wine,” Bee said, saving him from his embarrassment.

“Better to celebrate,” Dieter said to her with a wink.

She was so pretty, even after what looked to be a day of hell. He couldn’t help himself but flirt with her, even if it went against his mental checklist.

“Finally, you guys get the right idea. We’re having champagne, dammit. Bee just got a lead role in a Netflix original!” Claire shouted.

Her voice was so loud that Dieter almost worried for her neighbors before remembering that it was Saturday and it wasn’t very late at all.

“Wait, but how do you know?” Bee asked, flinching as the cork popped off the bottle that Claire had just opened. Both dogs started barking immediately but quieted with a stern shh! from Claire. “Wow, Claire, you know how to get them to behave.”

“I am mother now,” Claire declared. She poured three glasses of champagne from the bottle and distributed them between herself, Bee, and Dieter.

“The director called me. She should have texted your agent, too,” Dieter said. “I told Claire when I asked to come over, but I wanted to be the first one to tell you because we have history and all.”

History. When he said it, it sounded like he meant romantic history when he’d only meant that they knew each other from the Disney promo.

Claire caught onto the double entendre immediately and waggled her eyebrows.

“Not history like that, oh my god, Claire,” Bee groaned. “He’s talking about Disney. He came to my work, and we filmed some segments about the new Star Wars desserts that I designed.”

“It was a great time,” Dieter said. He was minimizing. It was the best time.

“Are you going to quit your job, Bee?” Claire asked, saving him by changing the subject. “You probably should.”

Dieter frowned. He hadn’t considered that Bee wouldn’t be able to bake anymore.

“You’re going to have to,” he said.

“Really? Like, actually quit it now?” Bee asked.

“As soon as this gets announced, there’s no way you’re going to be able to work there in peace. Plus, with the commitments of this project, there’s no way you’ll be at work long enough to actually get anything done,” Claire said.

Bee looked stunned and a little upset. “Wow, it’s that much time?”

“Yup,” Dieter said. “It’s part of why Netflix pays so well. You can’t really be in anything else while you’re filming for them. They don’t want too many titles coming out with your name attached when you’re working on a Netflix original. I’m in Star Wars, and this, that’s it for the next five years or so.”

“Five years?” Bee’s voice went high-pitched. “This show is going for five years?”

While Claire explained the current plans with the show, Dieter thought about how torturous it would be to spend the next five years of his life in such close proximity to her without being able to be with her. They would grow older together and further apart as they dated different people but came together each year to film lovesick characters in a fantasy world.

But then there was Bee, making a self-deprecating comment, and Dieter couldn’t help but intervene again.

“Do you think that I would take on a project that was likely to fail?” Dieter asked her, making direct eye contact with her.

She looked away, and Dieter fought the urge to put his hand under her chin and pull it toward him. He wanted to see her eyes, wanted to see what she was thinking. He wanted to tell her that she was amazing and that he’d known her for only two days, but he was already falling for her faster than he should be allowed to.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #agentbrandy #Dieter and Bee Universe

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itsbrandy · 4 months

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Burnout

Summary: You may have heard of a mid-life crisis or even a quarter-life crisis, but what is a mid-life crisis called when you’re 32? After giving up on your dreams to become an actress, you find yourself working an interesting, but not optimal career. You’re also living in Los Angeles with a great, but not excellent man. With a massive crush on the one-and-only Dieter Bravo, you spend your time reading fanfiction and questioning what could have been…but what if it’s not too late?

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Asian American OFC

Warnings/Tags: slow burn, self discovery, romance, eventual relationship, angst, mention of cheating, mentions of past abusive relationships, mention of racism, swearing, online bullying, Dieter is different in this one but still hot AF, protective Dieter, sweet Dieter, caring Dieter.

A/N: I imagined this story like a show. Each chapter is like an episode. Each song I'll attach is like an end of episode song. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Dieter POV 1 | Dieter POV 2 | Dieter POV 3 |Dieter POV 4

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo #dieter and bee universe #agentbrandy

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itsbrandy · 5 months

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Wildest Dreams Chapter 3

Summary: Bee faces the repercussions of her actions from Dieter’s party the night before.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: old timey sexism, cursing, mentions of murder, unrequited love,

Chapter 3: He Does It So Well

“Bee, are you kidding me?” Nancy screamed. “Bee! Wake up!”

Nancy’s voice shook Bee out of her slumber, and she opened her heavy, sleep-crusted lids to the blinding sun and a searing headache. The throbbing in her skull was overwhelming and amplified by the metallic scream of her shrill alarm clock.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Nancy asked, slamming her hand down on top of the alarm clock. “Why else on Earth is your alarm going off so early? My head hurts, and since we’re suddenly unemployed, I was hoping I could get some sleep.”

Bee dragged her bleary eyes from her angry friend down to the lovebites that were scattered across her collarbone. Jealousy flared in her stomach like bitter butterflies. A million accusations sprung to her lips.

Where were you? How did we get home? Who were you with last night?

Blurry images of the night before filtered through her mind. They went to Dieter Bravo’s house, they met other actors, and they got horribly, terribly fucked up. She kissed Nancy. They actually kissed.

Oh God, they kissed. They kissed each other, and it was the best thing she could have possibly imagined. She’d never kissed anyone like that before. It was like the heavens and earth had collided, but in a good way, and then, she’d been left behind by her. Only to be found by Dieter Bravo himself.

He knew her secret. He knew her deepest, darkest secret. She was in love with her best friend, and it was wrong and forbidden, and holy shit, her head hurt so badly.

Bee sat up in bed, and her stomach lurched. The acidic taste of alcohol traveled up her esophagus and violated her senses. She could still smell the putrid, sharp scent of vomit in her nose.

Nancy’s nose twitched, and her blue eyes were narrowed. “Don’t throw up.”

Bee glared at her. “I’m trying not to. I hate throwing up.”

“You have somewhere you need to be,” Nancy repeated. “Do you remember?”

Before Bee could answer, someone started pounding at the door. Bee winced and tried to pull the blankets back up and around herself.

“Oh shit!” Nancy swore. She smacked herself on the forehead and tugged at the blankets tucked around Bee. “He won’t stop! I told him I just needed time to get you ready.”

“What?” Bee complained, batting her hands away. “Can you please keep your voice down?”

“You have your audition,” Nancy said. Her gaze hardened, becoming somehow even more stern. “Don’t you? There’s a town car waiting outside our house. The driver has been knocking for the past ten minutes. Are you going to just give up your chance to be a star?”

Bee shook her head, no, and the room spun with the motion. Her pink curtains blended together like cotton candy, and her open closet became a blur of beige and pastels. She’d completely forgotten about her audition. How was it so late already?

The audition wasn’t until 2 p.m., and it couldn’t be later than…it was 1:30 pm. Her alarm clock said as much.

Shit.

When had they gotten home? It didn’t matter. All that needed to happen now was for Bee to somehow miraculously get ready in 2 minutes flat.

“Will you help me?” Bee asked weakly. She managed to pull the covers off of herself and slide her legs from the bed and to the floor. Her heartbeat moved from her chest to her temples, throbbing with the quick position change. “I still really want to go.”

“Of course,” Nancy said. She grabbed Bee’s hands and pulled her to her feet. Bee melted into the contact, soothed by Nancy’s touch. She wanted Nancy to wrap her arms around her and rub her back to soothe her until her headache went away. “I’ll get your outfit picked up. You’re going to need to brush your hair and your teeth.”

Bee obeyed Nancy’s command and wobbled her way to the bathroom. She relied on the walls to help guide her as she walked, still unsteady on her hungover feet. When she arrived, Bee didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. Her cheeks looked puffy, and so did her under eyes. Her skin was slightly blotchy, pink and pale, and her eyes were bleary.

Her dark hair was still curled but definitely needed a brush, so she did that first while turning the water on to run the tap. Afterward, she blotted underneath her eyes with cold water on a towel to try to reduce the puffiness. She brushed her teeth in a mad dash and went to her bedroom, where Nancy was waiting with an olive green dress, skin tone stockings, and black shoes.

“Thank you, Nancy,” Bee said in a huff of breath. “I appreciate it.”

Bee looked outside as she changed, peeking through the sheer curtain from the side. A man stood next to the town car in a black suit and sunglasses, and Bee suddenly got an uneasy feeling.

She wasn’t sure that she could trust that the town car would take her to the studio. There weren’t any markings that showed that the man was associated with Paramount Pictures and she’d always been warned about getting into the car of a stranger in Los Angeles.

“Are you sure this is a real audition?” Bee asked as she slipped her stockings on.

Nancy was fully dressed in a pale pink dress with sleeves that puffed at the shoulders. She looked stunning apart from the lovebites on her neck, but those could be quickly covered up. Bee wanted them covered. She’d turn green with envy if she had to look at them another time.

Nancy looked unsure. “There’s been a lot of murders in the city. But the car looks real. I don’t think murderers can afford to hire cars that nice.”

She was right. The car was unlike anything Bee had ever seen before. It had a white top and a green body, and it looked far too fancy for her even to go near.

“Maybe that’s how they’ve been getting away with it,” Bee said. Her stomach did a flip-flop, and she wasn’t certain if it was from the alcohol or from the nerves. “Nancy, I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Nancy insisted. She grabbed Bee by the shoulders, and Bee couldn’t help but look at her lips while she spoke. “You look great. You clean up super well, and why would they not want you? You’re gorgeous, Bee. You’re talented. You will be in this movie, and you will be amazing.”

“Do you think I could ask them if you could come with me?” Bee asked. Part of her was nervous, but mostly she didn’t think that she could bear being away from Nancy today. Her eyes were drawn to the hickeys that lined Nancy’s collarbone. “Would you want to?”

Nancy’s eyes lit up. “Of course, I would. Do you really think I would pass up an opportunity to come to Paramount?”

It wasn’t lost on Bee that Nancy hadn’t thought that the situation was dangerous until she’d been invited along. Bee didn’t care, though. She felt safer with Nancy and better about auditioning with her there. If she was honest with herself, she felt better about being with her all the time.

Nancy quickly powdered over her hickeys and dragged Bee out of their apartment. She’d also swept on Bee’s favorite red lipstick, lining her plush lips with bright crimson. The two girls were joined at the hand, fingers laced between one another, and Bee let out a giggle that made her own head pound in protest as they approached the car.

“Can my friend come with me?” Bee asked the driver. She put her bravest smile on for the driver. “It's just for safety. Lady things, you know. My mama always told me to be cautious with where I went in Hollywood. I wouldn’t want to not follow her sage advice on such an important day.”

The driver shrugged and waved both of them into the car. “I don’t see why not,” he said lazily. “But you’re already late. Hurry up, girls.”

Nancy squeezed Bee’s hand and smiled at her, grinning from ear to ear. Bee reached out and brushed back an errant brown curl, tucking it back into place behind her ear.

“You look beautiful,” Bee said as she opened the car door and motioned for Nancy to enter the backseat of the car before her. The seats were light tan leather and in pristine condition. The car smelled like it was brand new out of the factory, and despite her earlier hesitation, Bee knew that this was definitely not the car of a murderer.

Nancy didn’t answer her compliment as she climbed in the car, but when Bee joined her in the backseat, Nancy wrapped herself around her. Together, they sat with their knees pressed up against each other, and Nancy’s warm hands found Bee’s thighs, clinging her close from her excitement.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Paramount,” Nancy whispered near Bee’s ear. “We’ve never auditioned there before. This could be it. This could be what we’ve been waiting for for so long.”

Bee didn’t even care that it wasn’t Nancy’s audition. She would love for Nancy to get her next big role just as much as she would love for herself to get one. To be able to be by Nancy’s side through the explosion of her career, that would be a dream for her. Nancy on the Silver Screen, Bee watching dutifully at home waiting for her wife to–No, it couldn’t be. There was no future that could ever look like that.

Bee revised her dream as the town car whizzed through the streets of Los Angeles, taking the two women from their humble apartment to the place where stars were born. The sun was shining, and the motion made her dizzy, but she didn’t care. Somehow, it felt like Nancy was the cure to her hangover.

Then, the car came to a stop, and Nancy jolted out of Bee’s arms.

She pointed ahead of them, and Bee peered through the windshield to see a great, ornate arch guarded by a carefully crafted gate. Paramount Pictures was written in cursive above.

“Bee, we’re here!” Nancy shrieked.

The driver shot a glare in the rearview mirror, but Bee didn’t care. She looped her arm around Nancy’s waist and squeezed her as the driver gained access and the gate swung open to receive them.

“We are,” she said. “We’ve really made it, Nanc. This is an incredible opportunity.”

“We have,” Nancy agreed.

She grabbed Bee’s hand and rubbed the top of it with her thumb. Bee wanted to kiss her so badly that she almost couldn’t bear it, but she knew she couldn’t. Not here, anyway. “Everything happens for a reason, remember? Us losing our jobs—this is why. Something good is going to happen here. I can feel it.”

Bee looked at the sign wistfully. That vision of the future molded itself in her mind, solving the problems that existed in it before. Nancy and her, hand in hand, on the red carpet for an event. The cameras are flashing in their faces, and as soon as the event is over, Nancy pulls Bee around the corner, and they kiss in the darkness where no one can see them except for assistants who are sworn to secrecy.

That was better than the alternative. That was the future Bee wanted.

But then, an annoying interruption filtered into Bee’s mind. Dieter Bravo’s charming slur of words after he’d caught her kissing her best friend at his party. He’d been all suave and handsome and ready to seduce her, leaning up against a bookcase in the dark.

“That’s the best kind of love,” Dieter had said. “The type where you aren’t sure where it ends and where it begins. You just know that it’s there, and you’ll always have it.”

“This is your stop,” the driver said, and assistants rushed to open the car doors to retrieve Nancy and Bee.

Paramount Pictures was a flurry of motion the likes before Bee had never seen. She’d been on set before, but never at a studio of this size. Hundreds of employees milled about, walking from set to set, from building to building. Women in high heels, men in suits, people in full costume, and their assistants walking with umbrellas to guard their heads from the wrath of the Los Angeles sun. People shouted and screamed, and fans hollered at actors from the gaps in the metal gate outside, trying their best to get a glimpse at the next best thing to come out of Hollywood.

“Finally,” a woman with blonde pinned-up hair said. She was pretty, and she looked like she could be Bee and Nancy’s age if stress hadn’t prematurely pressed lines into her fair skin.

“You two are late. We need you in the audition suite now.”

Nancy and Bee only had one moment to exchange confused glances. The audition wasn’t planned for the two of them; it was only planned for Bee. But the blonde woman pushed at Bee’s back, pressing her forward, and Nancy gripped her hand like her life depended on it to avoid getting separated in the mad dash of Paramount Pictures.

“You’re Bee, right?” the woman asked, still shoving them along. Two men opened a set of double doors for them into a building, and the harsh Los Angeles sunlight plunged into the moody darkness of a movie set. Lights were oriented at two actors who were inside a staged kitchen.

Bee watched in wonder as the actors ran their lines, waiting for the camera to start rolling. Ever since she’d seen her first movie, she’d always wanted for that to be her. Small roles here and there could not compare to the thrill of being a star. The closest she’d ever gotten was on the stage.

“That’s going to be us,” Nancy whispered. She held Bee’s hand so tightly that Bee worried her fingers would snap.

Bee nodded excitedly, all too aware of the woman right behind them potentially overhearing their conversation.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” the woman behind them said, evidently hearing what Nancy had said. “We are certainly desperate to fill this role, but you still need to audition in order to find a spot. Then there are contracts, negotiations, and everything that comes after. Some people nab a role but can’t sign the contract and adhere to the terms.”

“Right,” Bee said hesitantly. She hadn’t thought about the possibility of a contract, but she was sure that she’d be able to do whatever the contract would require of her. “Will my friend be able to audition?”

The woman stopped in her tracks, and Bee and Nancy skidded to a stop. “I thought that’s why you brought her. We have plenty of smaller roles available—the more, the merrier. If we don’t cast the main roles in this movie today, we’ll lose our budget. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bee and Nancy chorused.

Bee can see it now. The odds were in their favor. This is their big break. And multiple roles available? A deadline to fill them by?

This is exactly what they’ve been waiting for. This is why they made this leap together. Bee and Nancy on the screen together after all this time. And what were the chances after they’d kissed for the first time the night before? Today was meant to be.

The woman ushered Bee and Nancy into a room arranged like a classroom with desks at the back of the room and a large chalkboard at the front. A group of three men sat at desks with folders full of paper. Each one of them had dark hair and glasses and wore fine suits. Bee thought they looked like triplets, but the odds of them being related were astronomical.

The one on the right looked a little older, but the middle and left ones were nearly completely identical. None of the men looked up at them as they entered the room. Instead, they poured over their pages of paperwork, only glancing at Bee and Nancy once the blonde woman spoke.

“These are the Roberts brothers,” the blonde assistant said, presenting Bee and Nancy at the front of the room. “They are directing and producing this film as a joint project. Their first ever collaboration!”

Nancy smoothed the pale pink skirt of her dress and put on a smile, Bee knew she should do the same, but she was confused. She’d expected the casting director that she’d met to be here.

“Will the casting director be here?” Bee asked. Yesterday, when she’d imagined herself auditioning, she imagined the scout from the diner would be here. The idea of a familiar face made her feel more comfortable. “Daniel?

“No, sweetheart,” the brother on the left said. “Just us today. We’ll be making the remaining casting decisions on our own. We’re on a very strict deadline, as I’m sure you’ve been told.”

Bee gulped, and Nancy shot her a look that said Relax. Her blue eyes held so many emotions in them, but Bee didn’t want to be caught staring, so she looked away and focused her attention back on the three brothers at the back of the room.

“I’ll be here, though,” the blonde said with a grin. “Taking notes.”

She sat at the back near the brothers but not directly next to them as if she knew that she wasn’t allowed to sit too close. Bee pursed her lips. There were so many unspoken rules in Hollywood. She hated having to tread so lightly.

“What was your name?” Bee asked as the blonde signaled for an assistant in the hallway to close the door behind them.

“Sandy,” the blonde woman said. She picked up her notebook and pen but gave Bee a look that told her she’d been out of place by asking the question.

Bee needed to remind herself that no one cared about assistants in Hollywood. She’d made a second mistake in quick succession. Once again, a quick glance at Nancy told her all she needed to know about how to act during this audition.

Nancy looked stunning. Her shoulders rolled back, her hands flat against her skirt, her chin held high. She loved it when Nancy dressed in pastels. The pale colors looked gorgeous against her darker hair and really made her light blue eyes pop. Bee mirrored her posture, hoping that the three brothers thought the same of her.

“Now, which one of you is going first?” the brother on the left asked. He held his pencil out and pointed between the two of them. “And which one of you is Bee, and which one of you is the extra girl? I have it here that Daniel scheduled a girl named Bee for the audition today.”

“I’m Bee,” Bee said, holding her hand up. She felt like a little girl, transported right back to school. “This is my friend, Nancy. I brought her as my support but also, um, if you’d like for her to au—”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s great,” the brother on the right said. “She’ll do. Do you have any acting experience?”

Nancy nodded. “I’ve acted in several plays around Los Angeles, including one downtown. And I was also in the very same commercial that Bee was cast in earlier this year. We played close friends and had similar line loads.”

“Great,” the right-side brother said.

“Bee, will you grab the paper on the desk in front of you and read the first paragraph for us?” the middle brother asked.

“Hold on,” Sandy said, holding up a hand. “We’re still waiting on Dieter to show up. He should be here for this one. It’s on the calendar.”

“He’s late,” one of the brothers said.

Bee was too busy snatching the paper off of the desk and trying to commit the words to memory to pay attention to them, but she could sense the eye roll in his voice.

“Dieter is always late,” another brother complained. “We can’t afford to wait around all day for him. We need contracts signed in order to get the green light. End of story. Now, sweetheart, read the paragraph, please.”

Bee wished she had a glass of water to clear the knot that suddenly formed in her throat. Dieter? As in Dieter Bravo?

Through her foggy, drunk memories, Bee could have sworn that her new rival Alice had mentioned possibly being in a movie with Dieter, but now Bee was here auditioning for the starring role with Nancy at her side. Perhaps Alice wasn’t good enough. Bee stifled a laugh. That would be rich.

Now, she had to nail this interview. If not to stick it to Alice, she didn’t know what else. Getting into this movie with Nancy would be better than letting Alice get the role and having Nancy look up to her like the role model she’d always wanted.

Bee hated how Nancy always latched onto other prettier, more talented women and wanted to be like them. Nancy was perfect just the way she was. Stunning, talented, smart, sophisticated…fuck, she was starting to sound like a lovesick puppy even when she was rationalizing with herself.

Bee cleared her throat and held the piece of paper in her hands. Sandy motioned for Nancy to take a seat at one of the desks, leaving Bee to stand alone in front of the chalkboard.

“Are you ready?” the middle brother asked.

Bee nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Action,” the brother on the left said. But then, just as Bee was about to open her mouth to start reading out the side, someone burst through the door, startling the hell out of her.

“Oh my goodness!” Bee shrieked, jumping and clutching her chest with her hands. The paper fell to the ground completely dramatically, and Bee flushed as she realized she’d totally been startled in character. She didn’t sound like herself but rather a perfect ditzy Hollywood starlet in a romance movie.

The person who interrupted was, of course, none other than Dieter Bravo. Despite how drunk Bee remembered him being, Dieter looked perfect. He was almost carved from stone, all tall and muscular, but his face looked fresh. His under eyes were slightly dark, but they always were–even in the movies.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Dieter said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. He strode across the room with his shoulders rolled back. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with short sleeves, and the buttons were unbuttoned far more than was generally acceptable for fashion, showing off the light brown skin on his chest. “I was fighting off women all morning. You know how it is.”

Dieter made a funny little motion with his fists that garnered zero laughs.

Bee wasn’t sure anyone in the room knew how that was. The Roberts brothers were complete and total nerds, though they certainly had pull being Hollywood executives. No one got women like Dieter Bravo did. No one.

Bee would know. She’d been under his spell just the night before.

Those whiskey-numb lips and half-lidded eyes had been trained on her.

The very thought made her want to spontaneously combust. It was hard for Bee to stay in the brightly lit classroom when her mind was tugging her toward that alcohol-fueled moment of panic when she’d realized that Dieter Bravo had witnessed her making out with her best friend.

She wanted to talk to him, to make him swear that he would take her secret to the grave.

Or better yet, to see if he remembered it at all. If Bee were lucky, Dieter wouldn’t recall ever meeting her. He wouldn’t remember anything about the night before. Wouldn’t that be swell?

“Well,” the brother on the left said. His chin was tilted toward his brothers. “I like her.”

The other two frowned but then nodded approvingly.

“Yep, she’s great,” the one on the right said. “How much to sign her on?”

“Well, since she’s unknown, there’s no need to pay her much,” the middle brother said. He leafed through some paperwork, and his eyebrows pressed together.

“But wait, I didn’t read yet,” Bee protested.

Dieter locked eyes with her, and something in his dark gaze told her to Shut up. Then, she knew that he definitely remembered her. The tiny tug upward at the corner of his cheek verified as much.

Bee snapped her mouth closed.

There was a pregnant pause in the room.

“I like the friend too. How much for them both? She’s pretty. She could fill in another role here somewhere,” the middle brother continued as if Bee had never spoken. He rifled through his papers. “Why don’t we do— Dieter as Jack, Bee as Maria, Jackie from the other day as Donna, and the friend as Helen.”

“The friend…I need to write that name down,” the brother on the right mused. “What was her name again?”

“Nancy,” Bee said through a tight throat. She didn’t miss how Dieter’s lips pursed when Bee said her name.

He knew. He remembered. He was going to tell everyone.

Bee knew her face would be tomato red with how hot her cheeks felt. She blinked away tears of embarrassment that gathered at the corners. She was waiting—hoping and praying that he wouldn’t—but waiting still for Dieter to stand up and protest that she couldn’t get the role.

She didn’t deserve the role because she was a lesbian.

Well, she wasn’t a lesbian, but that was beside the point.

“Well, what about Alice?” the brother on the left asked. “The other pretty one.”

Nancy’s eyes widened, and Bee took a deep breath.

Please not Alice, please, not Alice.

“Too prissy,” the one in the middle said nonchalantly. “We’re filming in Africa. Do you think that diva would let us take her to Africa? I certainly don’t think so.”

The brothers chorused their agreement and disagreement. One argued that all of the women would be uncomfortable in Africa, while the other argued that they couldn’t handle a woman who complained. The brothers were at a standstill, leaving Bee to wait on display at the front of the room.

She tried to get Sandy’s attention to ask if she should sit down while the brothers discussed, but Sandy was busy scratching down all of the reasons why each brother was for or against signing Alice on.

“I don’t think so either,” Dieter said while staring Bee down.

Bee wanted to disappear. He was doing that for her. He was saying this for her. He knew that Alice was her competition when it came to Nancy.

“How about a compromise?” the brother on the left proposed. “What if we don’t take either Alice or Nancy for this project.”

Bee watched as Nancy stiffened, clenching her hands into fists against the desk. She felt her heart shatter into a hundred tiny pieces for her friend, and her embarrassment quickly turned into fury. How dare they talk about Nancy like this right in front of her?

These were her dreams they were talking about as if they didn’t even care. She was a human being, and she was right there!

Bee opened her mouth to say something, but to his credit, Dieter once again bailed her out. His dark eyes were trained on her as he elbowed the oldest brother, who sat right beside him.

“What do you mean by that? I think Nancy has a great look for Paramount Pictures,” Dieter interjected. “She’s everything the studio has been looking for.”

“Hm,” the middle brother said. “What about casting her for the supporting role in the Rose Petal project?”

The other two brothers considered this compromise.

“And what about Alice? Do we take Alice with us on this project instead?” the other brother asked.

Please, not Alice, Bee thought. Please, not Alice. Please, let Nancy come with me on this.

She didn’t have much of a point of reference for what Africa would be like, but she couldn’t imagine weathering such an unfamiliar environment without her best friend. And she couldn’t imagine having to spend that time with Alice, either.

“We bring Alice,” they decided. “If we won’t take Nancy for this one, then we will bring Alice for the other one.”

“Get us contracts, Sandy,” the middle brother said, snapping his fingers. “We’ll need to sign them right away. Bee for the lead role on the Africa project—Maria. Alice as Helen. Pen Nancy in for Cindy on the Rose Petal project. It’s a bigger role than this one would be. It’ll be better for her.”

“They don’t have agents, sir,” Sandy protested. “These contracts will take forever to get together. Are you sure you want to hire two unagented actresses on the day of the deadline?"

The brothers looked at her like she was stupid.

“We don’t have a choice,” Dieter said smugly. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Now, is that all you gentlemen needed me for? Now that I’ve solved your problem, can I leave?”

“Yes,” the oldest brother said, waving Dieter out of the room. “You girls can stand out in the hallway, too, while we discuss details.”

Bee felt like she’d been punched in the gut, but she obeyed the order, filtering out of the room with Nancy practically skipping right behind her, but before she could make her way out of the door, Dieter Bravo cut her off, planting his hand against the door frame.

“Hi,” Bee said, startled.

“Hello,” Dieter replied. His smile was dashing, and it made Bee’s heart flutter in a way that only Nancy had made her feel before.

“What do you think of the studio?” he asked.

“It’s intimidating,” she said, but she wasn’t sure if she was talking about Dieter or Paramount. “Very intimidating.”

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo #dieter and bee universe #agentbrandy #1950s au #old hollywood #wildest dreams #dieter bravo x oc

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Burnout Chapter 14

A/N: Final chapter in the series. Please read Dieter's POV after if you'd like!

Word Count: 23.8k (It's a doozy!)

End of Series song: Adventure Of A Lifetime - Coldplay

Chapter 14: A True Hidden Gem

Shaking hands, cellphone hot against her palm, Bee waded through the crowd of cast and crew to try to catch her breath. Dieter tried to follow her at first, worried by her sudden change in mood, but Claire insisted on Bee leaving alone. And thank God for Claire—she wasn’t ready to explain to Dieter just how big of a mess she was about to deal with.

What were the consequences of this news getting out? Maybe she should call her agent yet…or maybe that was a little bit dramatic. After all, it was probably only like 8 a.m. in Los Angeles. It was bad enough her ex was about to get a rude awakening with this phone call. It was blackmail, it was slander. Well, not quite. It certainly felt like slander but doesn’t slander have to be untrue?

And it was true.

She had searched for those things. She had been a fan, and kind of an insane fan. But now she wasn’t, and honestly, Dieter mostly knew that she had liked his work before they met in person. He just didn’t know the full extent. He had no clue about the sleepless nights, the borderline obsessive nature, or the way her nails tapped against the screen, desperate for more content.

“Fuck!” Bee screamed, kicking at a medium-sized rock as she walked.

Her thin shoes offered little protection from the hardness of the rock, but she welcomed the pain. It was a reminder that she was still here, and when she looked up at the gorgeous gardens of the historical British estate, she decided that none of it mattered.

She was going to get harassed by Dieter’s fans anyway. They would hate her, wishing they were her, crying in bed at night and reading fan fiction about a world where she never existed—a world where it was them with him instead.

And Bee was okay with that. She knew that was the reality of dating Dieter Bravo. In fact, she more than anyone knew the feeling, she’d been there herself. Was it really so bad if the news got out? Likely not for her relationship, but most likely for her career. And with that thought, she dialed her ex’ s number and stomped back toward the searing hot room she shared with Claire, along the path of gravel and rows of rose bushes.

“Answer me, you asshole,” she hissed, clicking on his stupid name every time the call refused to go through.

She checked the time, and it was 9 a.m. over in the states. On a work day? No excuse. The bastard owned his own damn business unless it had folded in the time since they broke up. Bee grinned at the thought of it.

Finally, the ring tone went through, paused, and then the static of the line connecting reached her ears.

“Hello?” Her ex boyfriend answered sleepily.

“Yeah, ‘Hello’ is right,” Bee snapped. “You sure had no problem texting me a thousand times, but I can’t call you?”

“Oh, Bee,” he said, and she could imagine his stupid smirk on his face. “That’s your name now, right? Now you want to call me and act civil?”

“I’ve been working on a no phones allowed set, dumbass,” Bee snapped. “And I said nothing about acting civil. I’m calling about you threatening me, and I won’t hesitate to involve the proper authorities.”

Her ex laughed on the other line. “What? You want to send me to jail over telling your new boyfriend the truth?”

Yes. Maybe. Kind of. All Bee knew was that she was mad, and she wanted to put him in his place. How dare he come for the singular slice of happiness that she had managed to secure for herself in her adult life. Everything up to this point had felt either too fragile, too temporary, or too crushingly permanent.

Only now she felt safe, and out of jealousy, he wanted to take it from her.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stop harassing me and trying to interfere in my life,” Bee promised. She came to a stop along the path and fiddled with the soft, velvet feeling petal of a pale pink rose. “You need to calm down, take a breather, and focus on yourself. I’m not yours anymore and I never will be. It doesn’t matter if Dieter leaves me tomorrow, I will never in a million years come crawling back to you.”

“You wouldn’t?” Her ex asked.

Bee laughed. She tried her best to bite it back, but the laugh still escaped her lips. “Yeah, dude, I would rather die than go back to the way things were before.”

“But what if things were different?” He asked. “What if I did better by you? I would pay more attention, I would make more money. I might even support this whole Hollywood thing.”

Might. Of course her having a career that made her successful would be only a possibility in his eyes.

“Sure,” she lied, wanting to see his reaction.

“Sure?”

“What are you crazy? You think after all you’ve done, and all of those awful texts you’ve sent me, that I’m just going to let you back into my life?” She ripped the rose petal from the rose, palming it in her hands. She’d never seen roses like this in L.A. It was the perfect metaphor for the conversation she was having. “You’re delusional if you think so. I’m happier now. I’m safe now and the security that I have isn’t suffocating. You suffocated me. You put me into a box that stifled my potential, and you scared me. Don’t you know that?”

Her ex stayed silent on the other line.

“I was afraid of you!” She almost-yelled. “I was worried every day of fucking up, of upsetting you by deviating from our soul-crushing routine. What will he say if I want to go out to dinner with a friend or for a drink? ‘No.’ He would say ‘no’ and then I would have to cower and apologize and tell you I wasn’t cheating over and over and over.”

She paused. Still no response.

“I had to do everything you wanted at any given moment. I was more servant than girlfriend, don’t you get that? And I’m so happy, genuinely happy, that I’m not treated that way anymore,” she said. “Thank God.”

“Okay,” her ex said on the other line. “I’m just gonna leak it all then.”

Bee laughed, tears springing to the corner of her eyes. “Really?”

How could he be so cruel? How could he be so utterly selfish? She had just spilled her soul, told him about why she couldn’t bear it, why she didn’t want to go back, and he still couldn’t just leave her the fuck alone.

“Yeah, really,” he said. “I’ve got nothing to lose, right? As long as you’re happy with him, you won’t see reason. So I’ll just make sure you’re not happy with him anymore.”

That was not what Bee wanted to hear, by any means. It was evil, it was cruel, but no matter what life threw her way, she promised now that she would address it head on.

“Okay,” she said. “Cool. Do your thing, I guess. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

It was a lie. Bee didn’t exactly have a lawyer. There was a lawyer who worked for her agent, Mark, but that was the contract type of lawyer. She was sure Mark could probably help with all of this, though. And if she needed to, she would find a lawyer on her own—they could send a scary letter or something, something that might scare him from actually following through on it.

“Okay, cool,” her ex repeated. “Sounds good.”

“Yup,” Bee said. “Sounds great.”

“Uh huh,” he teased. “Goodbye, Bee. I’ll be thinking of you. I’m sure you’ll be thinking of me now, too.”

“Crazy,” she hissed. “I won’t be.”

But that was a lie. He would be on her mind—at least for a little while. She had to sort out this mess before her show aired, before this got out to the press. And she hadn’t even dealt with the fact that her and Dieter had been revealed being close to one another after that stupid car accident.

She pulled her phone away from her ear and hung up on her ex. He was pissed at her anyway so there was no point in sticking around on the line trying to appease him. Footsteps on gravel from behind her forced her feet forward, in pursuit of her and Claire’s shared room. She dialed Mark, her agent, as she walked.

Unlike her ex-boyfriend, her agent answered swiftly.

“Good morning, Bee!” He said happily. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from one of my favorite clients?”

Bee grinned. Okay, Mark, there’s no need to butter her up that badly—but she had just made him a ton of cash on commission. If the roles were reversed, he’d be her favorite client, too.

“Hi Mark,” she said. “I unfortunately don’t think I’m going to be your favorite client today.”

Mark was silent for a heartbeat, long enough for Bee to reach the door of the housing portion of the historical manor they were staying at.

“Uh oh, is everything okay?” He asked. “Is this about the car crash photos? I haven’t had the chance to talk about that. We can implement a PR strategy to try to get that to go away, if you and Dieter want to. I’m sure he’s already talking to his people about it.”

Bee made a face. It kind of hurt to think about Dieter making a similar call, desperately trying to get his PR team to spin the story away. Part of her wanted to hold his hand in public, dressed in sunglasses and sweatpants in paparazzi photos like all of the superstar couples. Maybe someday, though.

“Um, no, actually, I don’t know about that, but I kind of have something that might be a bigger PR priority,” Bee said, fiddling with the rose petal in her hands. She walked down the hallway, past ornate paintings and arrangements of fresh flowers straight from the garden. Her room was on the second floor, so she started toward the stairway.

The connection crackled as she approached it, so she paused, making sure there was no one else in the hall. Everyone else should still be back at the hall.

“Are you still there, Mark?” She asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m still here. Let me know what’s going on. I’m all ears.”

“Okay, I don’t know if you know, but I have a crazy ex,” Bee laughed. “Which normally is not relevant but—“

“Oh, it’s relevant,” Mark promised. “It’s okay, I’m well accomplished with this song and dance. Men are the absolute worst. Horrible creatures. What is he doing? Is he blackmailing you?”

“Yeah, he is,” Bee admitted. “I’m so stupid, it’s really stupid and embarrassing.”

“Career ruining embarrassing?” Mark inquired. “Like how bad?”

“Um,” Bee considered it. “Not like something that would be able to ruin my career, but I think it might look bad?”

“Okay, that I can work with. What is it? Also, are you okay? I know this is tough and can be really emotionally difficult, especially with the long hours you’ve been working on set,” Mark said. “I’m really sorry you’re going through this.”

“It’s okay, thank you, Mark,” Bee said. “Um, so before I met Dieter, before all of this, I was in a lot of fan groups. So, basically, my ex found my search history and he wants to leak it all and break Dieter and I up for good and turn his fans on me, all of that good stuff.”

“And how did he tell you this? In writing?” Mark asked.

“In text message,” Bee said.

“That counts!” Mark said excitedly. “Can you send me the screenshots? I’ll get to work with our attorneys ASAP. And I’ll need his full name and address. Don’t even worry about it, I’ve got it covered.”

Bee let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, Mark.”

“But,” Mark said, pausing to clear his throat. “I do think you might need to do some legwork yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Bee asked, stomach sinking.

“I think it might be smartest to tell Dieter,” Mark said. “In case this gets out, you should probably get ahead of it.”

“You really think so?” From down the hall, the door opened, and cast and crew alike flooded into the building in search of a rest break before dinner.

“Yeah,” Mark said. “It’s best to just be honest with those in your circle in case something leaks. I’ll need to notify the PR team for Netflix so that they can work with our PR person, too. If anything ever gets messy, it’s best to just be honest about it. At least behind the scenes. Don’t be jumping on Twitter about all this.”

Bee laughed, eyes trained down the hall. She didn’t want anyone to catch her or question her about why she was talking about lawyers and blackmail.

She heaved a sigh. “Okay, Mark. I’ll think about talking to him. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Of course,” Mark said. “I’m here for whatever you need, any time, any place. Give Claire my love, okay? I haven’t heard from her in ages.”

“You know why, Mark,” Bee said. “No phones, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “But she can call me now!”

“True, I’ll tell her. Thanks again, Mark. Have a good day,” Bee said.

“See ya, Bee. You too,” Mark said, hanging up the phone.

Bee turned on her heels and marched up the stairs, luckily wrapping up her phone call before the others could catch up to her and before the now-spilling tears from her eyes could give her away.

She didn’t know how to tell Dieter or how he would take it. Her cheeks burned hot with embarrassment. Bee was a different person then. She was desperate, more insecure, in a loveless, shitty relationship. All she wanted was an escape, an out, and Dieter was that both before and after her breakup.

Fiddling with the key for a bit, she held back most of her tears until she threw herself in bed, sweaty arms sticking uncomfortably to the sheets, and thanking whatever higher power that be that Claire had the sense to stay away from their room until dinner time.

***

The last night at “Hotel Hell” was just as hellish as all of the others had been, except with more tears and a little more drama. Claire was really committed to backing off of her, apparently trusting that Bee would spill all the tea when she was ready. It was rare from her button pushing, fun loving, drama aficionado friend, but Claire got the hint and stayed close to her apparent new girlfriend, leaving Bee mostly alone.

She slept, catching up on all of the sleep she had lost throughout the filming process. Sometimes she woke up and rolled over, frustrated by the stifling heat, but mostly she dreamed of Dieter.

The next day wasn’t a great option for telling Dieter about what was going on, but now that they had their phones back, she needed to do it soon. Still, she felt weirdly like a coward.

She held the sheets tight to her neck, kept her phone turned off, and white knuckled it through the night.

Maybe she should’ve gone to see him. She could have knocked on his door at 2 a.m. and he would’ve gladly opened it for her, welcoming her inside. She would spill everything from the movie obsessions to the fanfiction to the hunting for shirtless pictures in the middle of the night.

And Dieter would most likely laugh at her. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? But Bee just couldn’t get out of the bad headspace she was in. What else would be leaked about her during her career? Would her other ex get involved? Would the press go after her family?

Social media is the worst, the press is the worst, it’s all so ugly. Does she even want this?

Despite all of this, Bee made it through the night, and when Claire snuck into their room past 3 a.m., Bee was soundly asleep.

***

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Claire said, shaking Bee awake.

“Mmm,” Bee hummed, stretching and rolling over. It was bright in their shared room, but somewhere along the night it had cooled off enough for Bee to have ended up with extra blankets. Of course it would be cool now that they were done filming and ready to move locations—that was just their luck.

“We’ve gotta get moving. We didn’t pack last night,” Claire said, shaking Bee once more.

Shit. Claire was right. In her sobbing and swearing and the two annoying phone calls she had to make, she had completely forgotten to pack away all of her belongings in preparation for moving.

And after a while of the two women living, eating, sleeping, and getting ready in the room, it was quite the mess. Clothes both clean and dirty were strewn about the room. Old towels piled in the corner because the housekeeping in a historical hotel wasn’t necessarily luxury.

Claire even had an entire collage of NutriGrain bars she had stolen from the snack tables during filming. A wrapper for every flavor, times fifteen at least.

“Ugh,” Bee said, unwrapping herself from her cocoon of blankets. “But I don’t want to.”

“But you have to,” Claire said. “I’ll start us off. I’ll even clean up my NutriGrain bar pile first. I know you hate it.”

“Well, in that case,” Bee said, placing her feet on the floor. “I guess let’s get to it. Where even are our suitcases?”

Claire shrugged. “I think they’re in the closet. I’ll go grab them.”

Bee sat up and hunted around the clothes pile for something warmer to wear. Goosebumps had risen on her thighs and arms.

Claire retrieved their suitcases—one big one and two small ones a piece. Together, they started to sort through what was clean, what was dirty, what was trash, and what was keep. Then, what was Claire’s and what was Bee’s.

“When do we have to be ready by?” Bee asked finally.

Claire gave her a goofy smile. “About an hour to be dressed, packed, and downstairs.”

“Oh my god, why didn’t we do this yesterday?” Bee lamented, shoving several pairs of dirty underwear in the small suitcase she set aside for dirty clothes.

“Because,” Claire said, following her example. “Someone was having a little bit of a sad day. I don’t know who though.”

Bee looked up at her, and Claire’s face was pulled back in a half-smile, like she was holding back laughter but also wanted to gossip. Bee knew her too well.

“Ugh, fine,” Bee said. “I will talk about it but we have to keep cleaning. Deal?”

“Deal,” Claire confirmed, shoving more dirty clothes into her suitcase. “What happened between getting our phones back and now? Your eyes are so puffy, you must have cried for hours.”

Bee poked at the bags under her eyes, but she didn’t even need to to know that Claire was telling the truth. Her eyes felt raw and swollen.

“So, the ex-asshole decided it would be fun to threaten to blackmail me and to tell Dieter that I was a big fan before we got together but like kind of an obsessive fan. But even worse, he wants to go to the press and leak my search history and it’s so awful and so invasive,” Bee explained. “And now I have to tell Dieter all about it so that he doesn’t find out through other people and I don’t want to.”

“Well did you tell Mark? Mark can help with that,” Claire said, pausing in her packing.

“Yes, I did, but you need to keep packing if we’re talking,” Bee scolded. “Mark is taking care of it. He’s going to talk to lawyers and PR and Netflix’s PR which is why I really need to tell Dieter like ASAP.”

“Oh fuck,” Claire said. “Well you can’t tell him today, you guys aren’t going to be alone at all today. We’ll be in public and with the rest of the cast and crew all day. You should go right now and tell him.”

Bee’s heart skipped a beat. Pitter-pattering in her chest. She didn’t want to. Not now, not right now while she was already rushing to get ready for the day ahead. But Claire was right, being honest was important, especially for their relationship.

“Maybe I’ll tell him on the bus,” Bee said. “We’re taking a bus, right?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “A coach I think. Something fancy.”

“Yeah, we’ll probably sit together. I’ll just do it really quick, rip the Bandaid off.” Bee said, trying her best to avoid having to run over now. At the very least, she just wanted to shower really quickly, throw some mascara on, and conceal her puffy under eyes.

Claire shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat, just be sure to tell him then if that’s your plan. Otherwise, you never will.”

***

Bee didn’t tell Dieter on the bus. How could she when she sat next to him and he immediately wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close to cuddle up to him?

It was cold out, gray and overcast England, and the air conditioning on the bus was blasting chilly air, and Bee was cold. She wasn’t about to pass up the free warmth from the hottest guy on the planet by telling him something that he probably did NOT want to hear.

Who in their right mind would do that?

But Bee wasn’t in her right mind—she was nervous, feeling timid and clammy, and despite the full night of sleep she had gotten the night before, she fell asleep on Dieter’s shoulder before too long with the gentle swaying of the bus headed further into the British countryside toward the castle they were to tour as a group.

“Hey Bee,” Dieter whispered, lifting her head up from his shoulder. “We’re almost there, sweet Bee.”

“Who is sweet Bee?” She mumbled, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Um,” Dieter laughed. “It’s like sweet pea but worse, right? Not a good nickname.”

“No, I like all your nicknames. I’ll accept any nickname you want to offer me,” Bee said, and Dieter leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

She melted on the inside despite the chill of the air conditioning, and that melting pooled low in her stomach into thick guilt.

Should she say it now or say it later? Why ruin all of this now when it’s good? She knew it was irrational, but she wanted these few sweet moments before she messed it all up by making her confessions.

“Where did you go last night?” Dieter asked her. “I missed you after dinner.”

Bee balked, but tried her best to hide her discomfort.

“I was just exhausted,” she admitted. “I really needed to catch on sleep from all of the heat and the work, I guess.”

Dieter laughed and squeezed her close once more. “Yeah, apparently. They should cast you in a Sleeping Beauty live action.”

“I think they already made one of those,” Bee said. “Plus I’m not blonde or white or sixteen years old.”

Dieter shrugged. “Directors can have creative visions. Maybe Sleeping Beauty should be a hot Asian adult. I would pay money to see that actually.”

Bee laughed, the nerves about telling Dieter her secrets quickly slipping away from her mind. “I would be asleep for half of the film!”

“I would still watch!” Dieter said defensively.

The bus turned, directing the group on a windy road that led up to a hulking castle, and the rest of the group started to “ooh” and “aah” at the sight. There seemed to be a number of tourists at the castle today, unsurprising as it was the thick of tourist season, but Dieter assured Bee that there would be a private tour for the Bridgerton show’s cast.

“It’s very exclusive, or so I’ve heard,” Dieter said.

“Fun,” Bee said, nudging him in the side with her elbow. “I don’t care about exclusives. I’m used to exploring stuff for free, no tour involved.”

Dieter looked out at the crowd snapping photos of themselves in front of the castle.

“Yeah, but when you get to this point, it’s exhausting to navigate through people,” Dieter said. “They yell out your name when you’re just trying to relax, they want photos of you on days you’re feeling ugly. It can be a lot.”

“That’s true,” Bee said, and the guilt came roaring back like a surge through her body.

She had been part of the fan base that contributed to that issue, the people who were consuming the materials that made Dieter feel like he couldn’t exist in the world without paying extra to be safeguarded.

Every search she made for ‘Dieter Bravo shirtless’ had hurt him—how could he ever forgive her for it?

Dieter and Bee were the first two off the bus, which had gone around the corner away from prying eyes. After quickly checking that there was no one around, Dieter wrapped his heavy arms around Bee’s neck and gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head before pulling away.

“Hey,” Bee said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Dieter teased.

“Quit being so cute,” she said. “Plus, what if there are people?”

Bee couldn’t help but think about what Dieter’s fans would think. Their whirlwind romance was not going to be well-received by any means. She thought of her Instagram DMs—fat, ugly, irrelevant. How much was true and how much was just Internet nastiness.

“I don’t care if there are people,” Dieter shrugged. “They’ve already seen us. What, have you been getting comments?”

Bee shrugged. “I don’t know. I hate social media, remember?”

“You should delete it then, I’m serious.” Dieter said, the knowing look in his eyes told her that he knew she was getting spammed with hate mail from his fans. “That shit eats you up and spits you out for no reason. They don’t know anything about you. None of them know how truly gorgeous you are, how funny you are, how much fun you are.”

“You’re a liar,” Bee teased, deflecting his compliment only because people from the bus were starting to encircle them in preparation of their “exclusive” English castle tour.

The castle itself was slightly dilapidated, nothing like the gorgeous castle in London that housed the English royalty. Instead, this castle was clearly historical and had gone through some sort of cannon bashing or natural aging which peeled away and chipped at the stone facade.

The gardens here were similar to the gardens at “Hotel Hell”, gorgeous and full of rose bushes. They reminded Bee of the rose petal she had taken from the path to the rooms just the day before. Feeling slightly sentimental, she shoved it between the pages of one of her books and packed it away before boarding the bus.

Maybe someday, if everything worked out between herself and Dieter, she’d be able to look on it fondly. Hopefully, she’d be able to forget about all of the disaster and all of the drama of this filming experience.

Dieter grabbed her hand and directed her toward the rest of the group, where a woman tour guide was preparing to take one half the group and a male tour guide was addressing another half of the group.

They navigated toward the woman, joining Claire and other main members of the cast. The tour guide explained that this castle had serious cultural significance to England and a lot of really interesting information that Bee would have soaked up on any other day. But today she was too nervous, for more than one reason.

First of all, she was standing in England on an overcast day in front of a stunning castle holding Dieter Bravo’s hand.

That sentence was insane. It wasn’t real. And yet, it was. She was here and so was he. In front of their cast and crew, Dieter apparently didn’t care that he would be seen as a romantic couple with her. He stood so close, his hand so warm in her own sweaty, clammy hand.

And the second bit, the looming guilt of not having told Dieter what she desperately needed to. She looked down at her phone. At the very least, they didn’t have cell service. Any call from a PR agent or Netflix wouldn’t be happening today—or worse, social media going crazy with the leaked search history.

If it happened today, he wouldn’t see it.

But she did need to tell him before they were back within service range. She had to. She couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Dieter said, nudging her. “Do you like history?”

“Yeah,” Bee said. “History is cool.”

“It doesn’t sound like you think history is very cool,” Dieter said with a laugh. “You’re in like two countries over right now. You look like you’re someplace in France.”

“Sorry,” Bee said sheepishly. “I’m just a little out of my comfort zone.”

Dieter didn’t say anything, but squeezed her hand slightly. Bee squeezed his hand back, a silent confirmation of her feelings for him. She couldn’t tell what the woman had just said about the castle, but the rest of the group was following her inside, through some sort of impressive back entrance where metal suits of armor stood stereotypically on guard.

“Those are cool,” Bee said as they entered the dark, imposing castle. The floor beneath her feet was intricate mosaic tile, and dozens of paintings lined the walls on either side of the hallway they had stepped into. Historical figures that looked familiar to her, but ones that she couldn’t quite remember the names of.

“Wow,” Dieter said. “Those are incredible.”

They stayed like this throughout the tour, from fancy room to fancy room. You couldn’t touch a thing, but Bee didn’t mind. She had Dieter to touch, and that was the only thing she needed to. They were joined at the hand, and every once in a while, she would reach her other hand up to fix his hair or rub on his shoulder.

It felt good to be like this. She had never been touchy feely or excited to love on a partner in public before, but she was filled with so much pride at having Dieter by her side. Something she had never, ever, felt before with either of her exes. This love was fun, it was fresh, it was new.

The tour continued up a grand staircase, which left even Dieter and Bee winded with how steep they were. Some of the cast decided to stay downstairs, not wanting to break a sweat on their leisurely tour around the castle.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Claire asked as they got up the stairs. She startled Bee, sneaking up on her, and Bee jumped.

Claire shot her a look that asked a question. One that Bee was going to answer ‘No.’

She hadn’t told Dieter on the bus. She hadn’t done it.

She shook her head at Claire to transmit the message and Claire frowned with her disappointment. Claire looked like she wanted to say more—to call her out on breaking her promise, but she stayed quiet.

“Yeah, we’re having a good time,” Dieter said. “And you, Bee?”

“Yeah, a great time,” she said. Not so much anymore. She didn’t like the reminder of her shirked responsibility.

“Sweet! I’ll leave you to it,” Claire said, patting Bee on the shoulder and shooting her a knowing look.

Bee sighed. She really needed to pull the trigger on telling him. She had to do it as soon as she could, but they still weren’t alone, still not in a space where she could do so without ruining their day.

But this news might ruin their day any day. So she supposed it didn’t matter.

Touring the upstairs, the guide led them through the bedrooms of old royals, and Dieter and Bee joked around and played house throughout the upstairs portion of the tour.

“I want a bed like this,” Dieter said, referencing a gigantic princely bed with curtains around it. It was gilded and clearly the finest that someone could attain at the time. Now, it looked slightly aged, but still undoubtedly royal.

“I liked the princess bed better,” Bee teased. “How will we ever choose between them?”

“Why not get both?” The tour guide asked in her shrill British accent. Her imposing question annoyed Bee—another reminder of the fact that they weren’t alone.

“I suppose we might be able to,” Dieter said, turning his back toward her.

Bee found herself wondering if the tour guide had signed an NDA or if she was going to expose every last romantic thing they did. The thought was enough to cause her to drop Dieter’s hand despite her wishes.

With the awkwardness now settling in, the tour guide hurried the group through the rest of the section, before heading back downstairs to meet up with the other half of their group which had stayed behind.

“Alright,” the tour guide said. “I just need to radio over to my counterpart to make sure that the section we’ve set aside for lunch is free from any prying eyes, and then we can release you for a quick lunch. After, we’ll explore the dungeons underneath the castle, and then the gardens.”

“Sounds great,” Dieter said, standing so close to Bee that their shoulders touched. He leaned his head down by her ear and asked, “Why aren’t we holding hands anymore?”

Bee flushed. “I was worried about the guide. Is she under NDA?”

Dieter laughed. “Of course, she is. Besides, I don’t really care. I think you’re pretty and I want to hold a pretty girl’s hand today.”

He laced his fingers through hers once more, and Bee felt her heart thundering away in her chest. Maybe now was the time, maybe on lunch she could get him alone to tell him about everything.

“Can we eat lunch alone?” Bee asked. “I think she was talking about the grassy hill outside for lunch.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dieter said. “Let’s do it.”

When the tour guide came back with instructions for lunch and a time that they should meet back up, Bee was shaking like a leaf. She tried her best to play it cool, picking up a salad from the catering truck that had shown up and grabbing a blue blanket to spread out for Dieter and herself. Dieter grabbed his own sandwich and two Cokes in the glass bottles for the two of them.

“This is gorgeous,” Dieter said, looking out at the view as they climbed to the top of the grassy hill together. They claimed their spot at the top and everyone else got the hint that they wanted to be alone today, picking spots lower down on the grass to set up for their own picnics.

Bee spotted the back of Claire’s head and her stomach twisted with guilt. Dieter and Bee sat cross legged on their blanket, unwrapping their respective sandwiches, when Bee finally choked up the courage.

“I have something to tell you, Dieter,” Bee said, lowering her voice. There was no one around her but even still, she was worried about someone overhearing her confession. She didn’t want to say it—it was so embarrassing, but the furrow that settled between Dieter’s brows and his genuine concern melted her.

She had to tell him, she simply couldn’t put it off any longer. It wasn’t fair to him, and if she let the news come out before she said anything it could ruin their relationship.

“You need to tell me something?” Dieter said. He was struggling to keep his face relaxed—there was that sense of worry that was written into his features—but also an air of relaxation. Maybe he thought she was going to confess she was in love with him or maybe he thought she was going to say she didn’t love him at all.

Bee was hesitating, and she knew it was hurting him with every moment that she couldn’t just spit the words out and tell him, but they were caught up in her chest high, taking her breath away.

“Just say it, Bee. You’re making me kind of nervous,” Dieter said. He set his sandwich down and reached out to rub her knee. “Everything is going to be okay. Nothing is ever that serious.”

Bee sucked a deep breath in and exhaled.

“Okay, so you know how I broke up with my boyfriend around the time I got this role,” Bee started.

Worry flickered in Dieter’s dark eyes, and Bee placed her hand over Dieter’s to keep it on her knee. He was about to pull away, afraid that she was saying she wanted to get back with her ex.

“No, it’s not like that. I hate him, Dieter.”

“Oh,” he said. “Okay, keep going. Yes, I know you broke up with him around that time.”

Bee nodded. “And he was insanely jealous. He sent me some threatening texts before but I just ignored them. Claire told me to block him but I didn’t. I don’t know what would’ve been better, but he texted me while we were on the no phone time. He texted me a lot.”

Bee rubbed her thumb against the back of Dieter’s hand, hoping that showing him that she still cared about him would help to soften the blow.

“What did he say?” Dieter asked her. His eyes were soft, still shrouded in worry, but he looked understanding and more worried about her than himself.

“He said he was going to leak some things I had been searching on our home WiFi back a long time ago. Before we ever met, before I ever knew you in person,” Bee said. “And so I called him, and I told him I would sue his ass. And he said, that he was going to do it anyway.”

Dieter was quiet for a while, waiting for Bee to continue. He hadn’t passed judgment yet, but Bee could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I’m so sorry, Bee. That is so horrible of him. He’s an asshole. Did you contact your agent? I can get you someone for PR if you need them,” he said slowly. He wasn’t looking at her though, almost too afraid to ask the question that came out of his mouth next. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not like horrible bad. It’s nothing illegal or anything. And I did get in touch with Mark, and he’s getting lawyers and PR and everything. It’s taken care of but I had to tell you because it’s about you,” Bee confessed. Her face felt hot despite the windy, chilly English day, a blush quickly forming.

This was so embarrassing, so humiliating.

“About me? From before we met?” Dieter laughed slightly. “Were you in the ‘I hate Dieter Bravo’ camp before we met? It’s okay if you were, I know I’m much handsomer in person and I’m funnier, too, so I understand.”

Bee made a face. “No, the opposite.”

“Oh,” Dieter said, his smile slipping away. “Okay.”

“I was a super fan. And for a little bit there, before we ever met, I was kind of obsessive,” Bee admitted. “I read every fanfiction imaginable, I was on every forum, followed every fan account, even those awful flight trackers.”

She removed her hand from on top of his, allowing him to take his hand away from her knee if he wanted to, but he didn’t. To her surprise, he kept his hand settled on her knee, and he sat in silence as he processed the information.

Bee let him think, sitting together in silence. A gust of wind blew and ruffled his dark hair and as Bee thought that he was beautiful, she cried. Tears spilled from her eyes against her wishes, and she let them run, not wanting him to notice.

But then she sniffled, and Dieter broke from his train of thought to wipe her tears away.

“No crying,” he said. “There’s no need to cry over this. I’m flattered, it’s just a little awkward. I think I’d feel better if I knew like more specifics.”

“It was nothing super super bad,” Bee said quickly, but the tears kept spilling. “I think I just am more embarrassed about the frequency. I used to stay up all night, because I was so unhappy with my relationship. All I wanted was a different one. And it’s so stupid, and I’m so angry with myself because this is that dream relationship, and I’ve been so scared since yesterday that my unhappy self would ruin things for my happy self.”

Dieter wrapped his arm around Bee’s shoulder, pulling her closer. “No, it won’t. It would never. I understand what that feeling is like, and I know what you’re talking about.”

“I just don’t want the whole world to see Dieter Bravo’s new girlfriend had been Googling ‘Dieter Bravo shirtless’ every night for a week,” Bee sniffed. “When I didn’t meet you on purpose. I met you on some stupid happy accident.”

Dieter laughed. “Was it really every night for a week?”

“Yes!” Bee laughed, the humiliation making her giddy. “It was constant, it was all the time. I read every fanfiction I could get my hands on, and now, my life is that fanfiction. I’m happy now. I’m so happy with you that I could write a whole 90,000 page book on how fun it’s been to get to know you.”

“I could too,” Dieter said. “I’m really happy to get to know you. I never really wanted to date a fan, but I could tell that you knew who I was when we filmed for Disney together. And it never bothered me. Fuck, I mean, if you’re with me because you thought I was hot then, I guess it’s a good sign that you want me still now. Does the fanfiction version of Dieter match up with the real version?”

Dieter leaned his head down toward Bee as he asked her that, his lips just out of reach of her, but she pushed herself up from the blue blanket to kiss him on the lips.

“The real Dieter is so, so much better than the fanfiction version,” she promised.

“Are you sure?” He asked, planting another kiss on her lips.

They kissed for what felt like a minute, the fantasy coming to life right before her. Here she was, kissing the man of her dreams, despite it all. And all of that fear, all of that doubt, simply fizzled away as he kissed her. It felt like champagne bubble pops and sitting in front of the fire on an ice cold day.

And Bee could’ve sworn she learned the meaning of love that day.

“I’m sure,” she said when he pulled away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

***

Bee thought about that kiss at the castle often, using their moment alone to propel her through the coming weeks of filming. Once again, she and Dieter were mostly separated apart from their time in front of the cameras. There, Bee didn’t kiss Dieter as her character, and she was pretty sure that he wasn’t kissing her back as his either. Still, her feelings for him grew despite their use of accents and scripts.

It wasn’t the usual way of falling in love, through the pages of a Regency romance novel turned Netflix series, but it was the most in love that Bee had ever felt. Rivaling her past years’ long relationships even. For Bee, her time at Disney seemed so far away, so out of this world, that her reality started to feel…well, real. She was a star, not just someone who was masquerading as one.

When she realized this, the staff on set started treating her accordingly. She managed her expectations, though she could quickly see how people changed with fame, with rising expectations of special treatment. Bee wouldn’t be that type of a celebrity. She promised herself as much—she would maintain normal relationships and made the mental note to schedule time with Staci as soon as she returned stateside.

Her friendship with Claire was still a pillar of her experience with fame, but Claire had been interested in her own romantic pursuits, leaving in the dark about a lot of what was going on with her. Bee tried to poke and prod when they were in between scenes, but Claire was tightlipped on set.

Summer continued on, and their living quarters were (thankfully) air-conditioned to a brisk chill. Bee didn’t spend a lot of time in her room apart from sleeping, rushing from set to set, scene to scene, rehearsal to rehearsal, and to hair and makeup.

The last day of filming was a mark in Bee’s mental calendar that she couldn’t be more excited for. It was just two days away, and between scenes, Dieter and Bee talked about what they would do after filming. Dieter mentioned a quick detour before returning home for the both of them in passing, he only needed to ask their director for permission to adjust their flights.

She couldn’t be more excited. Since Dieter was planning something, it was bound to be romantic, and she couldn’t wait to have him all to herself.

“What are you smiling about?” her makeup artist, Marie, asked. “I need your lips at rest to put lipstick on you, silly.”

“Sorry,” Bee said sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking about anything important.”

“It looked to me like you were thinking about a man,” Maria said. “Or a woman, I don’t judge.”

Bee looked at herself in the mirror, lips half-painted with nude pink lipstick. Her cheeks were burning red, and not from the blush that Maria had already applied to them.

“I wasn’t thinking about a man,” Bee said quickly. “I mean, well, I wasn’t thinking about a woman, either. I was just thinking.”

“Mmhm, sure,” Maria said, not buying it one bit. “I do some thinking all the time.”

She laughed, and Bee had no choice but to laugh with her. It was clear to everyone on set that Bee and Dieter were together, especially after everyone had seen the tabloids when they got their phones back on their brief filming break.

“He’s so dreamy, isn’t he?” Maria asked, pressing forward with the conversation, even though Bee was clearly not interested in continuing it.

“He is,” Bee said. She rested her lips and allowed Maria to complete her lipstick. She hoped that if she just complied with the process, that she would let her off the hook a bit.

With the newfound respect Bee had gathered on set, she didn’t like talking about Dieter with people. It felt wrong, almost like they were treating her better just to get on his good side. Bee wanted more than that, she wanted a career that stood on its own two feet—not one that was dependent on a man.

What would happen if they broke up? Or if Dieter’s reputation was shot by a horrific scandal?

Then Bee would be left high and dry, kicked out of Hollywood forever?

No, she wouldn’t allow that. She secured this role, she was knocking it out of the park, too, as far as the director and producers had been telling her. There was no way she would ever put her future in the hands of another man, not after her other relationships. Never again.

Maria applied the lipstick in silence, finally getting the hint that Bee didn’t want to talk about Dieter today. She finished off the look with mascara and brows and sent Bee on her way to the hair station.

Claire entered the hair and makeup trailer in a daze, a whirlwind of “I’m late” and “I’m so sorry.” Bee tried to mind her business from her own chair, where Renee was crafting a gorgeous period updo of her dark hair. But Claire had clearly come from a tryst with the costar she had started seeing, and it was hard for Bee not to give her a sideways look that told Claire she was onto her.

Claire swatted her hand in a gesture that told her, “Don’t mention it,” like it was normal for her to be late after hooking up. Maria, of course, gave her shit for her puffy lips and asked her straight up who she had been locking lips with.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Claire said, throwing one leg over the other and acting coy. “But maybe you could figure it out.”

“I like my odds,” Maria said. “There are plenty of men around here, but not many that would suit your high standards, Claire.”

And that’s where she was wrong, and Claire knew as much too. She shot Bee a wink from her seat—because Claire wasn’t hooking up with a man at all.

Bee was dying inside without the opportunity to gossip with Claire about it. She wanted to know how serious they were, if she considered herself off the market, or if this was just a quick filming fling. Either way, it made Bee a little nervous about her living situation. She would have the money to buy her own place with the contract that Dieter secured for her from Netflix, but she was looking forward to returning to life as it was with Claire.

The condo had become her home in the short time she lived in it, and she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet. Not to mention that she had never lived on her own before. She had always lived with either her mom or a boyfriend.

It was a goal of hers to live alone before moving in with Dieter, though. If they ever got that far, of course. She was going to play it low and slow with him, not rushing through life from one safety net to another.

“How’d you sleep?” Claire asked her, changing the subject away from herself.

“Good. Better than that awful hotel. I love having my room be as cold as possible and then piling myself in the covers,” Bee said with a shrug.

“Hey, don’t move too much,” Renee cautioned. “I almost stabbed you in the head with a bobby pin.”

“Oops,” Bee said.

“Good,” Claire said, about her sleeping well, not about the almost-stabbing. “Has anyone been visiting you lately?”

“No,” Bee said with a touch of bitterness in her voice, knowing she was talking about Dieter. Of course, she was, after she had just gotten Maria to finally drop it.

“Oh,” Claire’s eyebrows raised.

She acted like she expected them to be meeting up after dark every night, but with how busy they were, there was no way that she or Dieter wanted to meet up for late-night activities after work. It simply wasn’t how they wanted to start their relationship—something they agreed upon that day in the grass outside of the castle, hand in hand.

They would start, for real this time, after filming ended in two days.

Hair done, Claire set off to start her second to last day of filming. Her second to last day before she and Dieter had the whole world to just the two of them. Ready to start the beautiful relationship that they had begun. For real this time, though. No cameras, no lurking staff ready to leak their every move to the papers. An NDA never stopped anyone; both of them knew as much.

Her first scene of the day was with Dieter himself. A tense meal between the two of them and their on-screen parents. Neither of their sets of parents approved of their pairing, but for Dieter’s character, he didn’t need their approval. But for Bee’s character, the situation was more complicated. She couldn’t marry him without their approval, and this scene was tense and heated.

It was a total “But Daddy, I love him!” a la Disney’s The Little Mermaid, and Bee had spent plenty of time working on just how she would approach this scene. She imagined being told that Dieter and her wouldn’t work out, that he was bad for her, even though her heart longed for him so badly.

The thought alone brought tears to her eyes, and so she could only imagine how her character would feel. She was a spinster, and the first man who had really seen her for her, enough to open up to her and earn her trust, was being denied by the people who had the potential to call off the whole thing altogether.

Her heart broke for her, even though she knew it was only a character. She wasn’t real. In fact, she was really just Bee.

She sat across the table from Dieter, a bowl full of soup placed before her by production.

“What kind is this?” Bee asked.

“It’s creamy tomato,” the production assistant said.

“Can I have the chicken and rice instead, please?” she asked politely. She didn’t like tomato soup and had requested an alternate meal before today. It seemed like someone hadn’t made the note, though.

“We don’t have another chicken and rice soup,” the production assistant said. “And we have to roll in five if we’re going to stay on schedule.”

His tone wasn’t unkind, but it was clipped. It was true they were on a schedule, but they should have considered as much before bringing Bee the wrong meal. If the schedule was correct, she would have to be slowly eating this tomato soup over the course of two hours, small sip by small sip. The thought of it turned her stomach.

“We can just trade,” Dieter said. “I don’t mind the tomato soup.”

Bee grinned, and Dieter smiled back at her. There was some sort of silent ‘I love you’ in the gesture. That he came to her rescue, deflected the attention away from her, and that he sacrificed the meal he had chosen for her comfort.

She wanted to kiss him, but unfortunately, there was no kiss in this scene. Only tears and accusations, screaming and fighting with her parents.

“Ready?” Sam, their director, asked. “I love this scene. More than any of the others, I’ve been so excited about this scene. I know you guys are all going to kill it.”

Bee and Dieter both nodded and gave their respective thumbs-ups. Their on-screen parents came to sit by them. Bee was flanked by her on-screen mother and father, one on either side.

“Alright, we’re going to start from Bee’s line, ‘I’m so happy for us to all finally get together,’” Sam said, sitting in her director’s chair.

Bee nodded and took a deep breath. She wasn’t herself anymore. She was fully her character, but the man across from her was still some version of Dieter in her brain—but only so that she could prepare herself emotionally for what was to come.

“And, quiet on the set!” Sam shouted. “Action!”

“I’m so happy for us to all finally get together,” Bee said, as her character, Celine.

Dieter’s character, Duncan, smiled at her and looked at his mother.

Duncan’s father spoke first, though. “Likewise,” he said. “We’re so happy to hear that our son has found a woman to his liking after all this time.”

“I wish that I could say the same,” Bee’s on-screen father said. “We’re not so sure of this match for our Celine.”

Bee made a face and picked up her spoon, concerning herself more with her soup than with her father’s harsh words. She could feel Dieter’s gaze on her, his character looking for her to defend him. But in this society, she couldn’t speak over her father. She was powerless in this scene—until she wasn’t.

She was gearing up, drawing in her emotions, ready to explode and let everyone know how she really felt. Her character was full of deeply rooted feminine rage, and if Bee was honest with herself, so was she. She’d lived her life under the thumb of other people, making choices that she thought would please them.

Finally, she was taking charge of her life, making choices that would benefit her. And so was Celine, which made it easy to perform as her. She wasn’t method acting, not quite, but it was close enough.

“Well, what’s not to like?” Duncan’s mother asked. “Our son comes from a respectable family, we have more money to our name than your family does, no disrespect. Our name is well-regarded in our community. Our son is polite, kind, generous.”

“Says the mother,” Celine’s father said. “Of course, you would see him that way, but he has a reputation with women in this town that is unbecoming of our daughter. We are unsure of how that reputation would reflect on us, given that we are, as you said, ‘poorer than you.’”

Dieter spoke up in defense of his on-screen mother. His voice was so different as Duncan, but his passion was all the same, fire and excitement. “That’s not what she said. Don’t twist her words.”

“It’s all the same, boy,” Celine’s father said. “We don’t have your resources. We’re trying to advance our position, and I won’t let my daughter ruin it. She’s supposed to be serving her role to help provide for this family.”

Bee kept her gaze down, twirling her spoon through the chunks of chicken and pieces of rice. She wouldn’t engage with them, wouldn’t show her parents that they were getting the better of her, that the rage that was pooling inside of her was in danger of spilling out.

“You are supposed to provide for your family, aren’t you?” Duncan said an accusatory note in his voice.

“Cut!” Sam shouted. “Dieter, try that one more time. This is the woman of your dreams sitting before you, and if you don’t man up and do something, she is going to slip right through your fingertips. You want her, don’t you?”

Dieter looked at her, and it was in a way that was more Dieter looking at Bee than Duncan looking at Celine. She blushed under the intensity of his gaze.

“More than anything,” Dieter said. “I want her more than anything.”

It took everything within Bee not to let out the girlish squeal that rose in her chest.

“Okay,” Sam said. “Then say it like you mean it. Take a moment and think about it, and then let me know when you’re ready.”

Dieter looked lost in thought for a moment, then he gave Sam a thumbs up.

“Action!” Sam shouted, and the cameras started rolling once again.

“You are supposed to provide for your family, aren’t you?” Dieter said as Duncan once more. This time, there was a fire in his eyes, passion in his voice that wasn’t there before. His voice was so commanding, so impressive, that Bee accidentally looked up from her soup. She wasn’t supposed to yet, but Sam didn’t stop the camera.

Bee averted her gaze once more, looking down into that bowl of soup as the argument continued to escalate and take shape around her.

“This right here is why we don’t approve,” her on-screen father said. His face darkened, turning a deep shade of red with anger that made him shake. Of course, it was just acting, but Bee could feel him vibrating with rage to her red, and it made her heart race even though she knew it was fake. “Do you see this anger? This impulsivity? It’s not a fit for our daughter.”

“Your daughter,” Dieter’s on-screen mother said, her voice terse. “She had no prospects before she met our son. If you think that marrying will help provide for your family, why has she not been married off for money yet?”

Bee’s on-screen mother looked to her with sadness in her eyes. There was an unspoken kindness in them that they wanted her to choose her own partner for love, if possible. But now that her character Celine had chosen one, they were putting a stop to it.

“Why?” she asked her mother quietly. “Why not him?”

“Listen to your father, child,” her mother said.

“I’m not a child,” Bee said as Celine. “I’m nearing 30.”

“See?” Bee’s on-screen father said. “She never spoke out of turn this way before. Our daughter was never so emboldened, so crass as to talk this way. And for what it’s worth, we get to choose her match. Not her, not you, us, as her parents.”

“You shouldn’t get to choose,” Bee said under her breath. She paused as the camera zoomed in on her face, and she made her hand shake with the spoon in her grasp for dramatic effect.

“I will send you away, Celine,” her father said. “If you do not stop speaking out of turn.”

Bee turned to face him. “No, you won’t. I love Duncan, father. I won’t ever stop loving him. We were made for each other, born into this world to be together. You can’t stop us from being together. Not even if you disown me, he will still want me.”

Duncan’s parents exchanged a look like they weren’t quite sure about that detail, but Bee pressed on with her monologue, pushing her soup aside so hard that the spoon clattered out of it onto the table.

“I’m so tired of being ordered around by you two, it’s time that I lived my own life. I don’t care about custom, I don’t care what you have to say. This is my life, my choice, and I choose him!”

Bee’s voice climbed to a yell throughout her speech, and by the end of it, she was standing, panting out the words. Dieter looked at her with wide brown eyes, and Bee knew he was still in character, but he looked impressed with her performance, or at least that’s what she chose to think.

“Celine,” her mother said, scandalized.

“That’s my name,” she snapped. “You gave it to me, and you gave me life and raised me, but if you choose not to support me any further, then I have no choice but to stop calling you my family. You won’t be the ones to exile me. I will exile myself. I will not live a life without love. I refuse to.”

“Celine,” her mother repeated, this time broken-hearted.

Bee’s eyes filled with tears that spilled over the edges of her lids.

“Do you hear her?” Duncan’s mother asked. “You would harm your own child this way? Make her feel this helpless?”

“Cut!” Sam called out. She was out of her seat, so drawn in by Bee’s scene that she needed a closer look. “That was beautiful, Bee. I can’t believe we got that in a single take. I think that’ll be the final, but can I have you run through it one more time from the top?”

Bee smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Of course.”

“She’s a fucking natural,” Sam said, settling back into the director’s chair. “How the hell did we find her?”

Bee went through the scene again, confident in her abilities. With just two days left of filming, she felt like she had successfully mastered her craft. Somehow, somewhere along the way, everything just clicked for her.

***

The next day of filming went much like the last, with Bee successfully conquering the more dramatic scenes of the show alongside Dieter. The “big scene” of the day today was a kissing scene, and then their wedding scene later in the day. Back in the early days of their romance, when she had read the script, still starry-eyed for Dieter, these were the scenes she looked forward to the most.

It was then that she thought kissing and marrying Dieter was outside of the realm of possibility. And while they hadn’t kissed as Bee and Dieter in several days, there was plenty of kissing for them both up ahead. They only had one more day of filming to go, and then they would be off on the adventure Dieter had planned.

"It was approved", Dieter had said at dinner the night before. And he had his assistant change both of their tickets to reflect their “pitstop” on the way home.

“Where are we going?” she had asked.

“Not telling,” he said, a cheeky smile on his face. And then he just continued on eating his meal as if he hadn’t planned her a secret romantic getaway—something no one had even gotten close to doing before in her entire life.

The kiss scene went by quickly, much to Bee’s disappointment. She loved kissing Dieter, in costume and out of costume. The only complication with kissing him as her character was the corset that only served to further take her breath away.

She gasped as she kissed him, trying desperately to get enough air into her lungs.

“Cut! That’s good, Bee, just like that!” Sam yelled in approval. “One more time, action!”

Bee couldn’t complain. She would run kissing scenes with Dieter all day if it meant locking lips with the man she was falling in love with. She may have even messed up a line or two just to run it again, but she wouldn’t admit to it if anyone asked her about it.

The wedding scene was far more complicated. The hair and makeup were elaborate, sucking crucial hours of the day from her. She sat as a whole team of hair and makeup artists attacked her with brushes on her face and hair, wrangling her into the perfect bride.

When they were done with her, Bee struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to ruin her makeup. She didn’t look like the bride she imagined herself to be, the dress was clearly a period costume, but it was white and accentuated her figure nicely. She was gorgeous, and her face looked bright, with life and happiness in it that she’d never seen on herself before.

Her team escorted her to the “venue,” where Dieter waited for her looking better than she had ever seen him look before. They had cut his hair a little shorter to show the passage of time in the show, and the haircut took a couple of years off, bringing a youthful glow to him that made her heart flutter.

She felt like she’d been plucked out of a romance novel when she saw him like this—it was so disorienting her head was spinning, and when she walked up to him to greet him, he talked to her as himself, not his character.

That only made the problem worse. During their entire wedding scene, she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. They ran it over and over again, and she couldn’t help but feel like it was just the two of them, Dieter and Bee, who were making that giant leap of commitment.

But it wasn’t. She knew that, even though the way he looked at her when he said “I do” felt so intimate, almost spoken directly to her soul.

“I love you,” she whispered after Sam yelled, “Cut!” and told everyone that they were done for the day.

It was after the cameras were done, their hands were still joined from the scene and in her own voice. Dieter looked at her like she’d just told him her deepest, darkest secret.

“I love you too,” he said quietly.

“Dieter, come look at this scene,” Sam called out, and he broke away from her, casting her one last disappointed glance before he joined Sam at her monitor.

***

Sam called the last day of shooting “Mistakes Day,” and Bee couldn’t help but take it personally. She stayed up almost all night thinking about her own mistake of prematurely telling Dieter that she loved him. She even confided in Claire about it, who had laughed at her, but then spilled her own guts about her cast member relationship that had unfortunately run cold.

Claire assured her that Dieter wouldn’t have lied to her if he didn’t love her back, but Bee wasn’t so sure. He was kind and gentle, and she felt like she had been so mangled by life so far.

Most days, she woke up wondering how this was her life, how he had chosen her over all of the other women in the world.

She felt stupidly, ironically, like her character, Celine. But Celine had gotten her man in the end, so what was stopping Bee from getting hers?

It was the same man, after all, Netflix romance show or no Netflix romance show.

Mistakes Day ran by quickly, reshoot after reshoot of little fixes, most of which Bee wasn’t in. Claire said that was a testament to her good work on this show that she had really made an impression on the director and the producers, but Bee’s mind was elsewhere. She had barely seen Dieter all day and couldn’t get those three little words out of her head.

***

The next day, Bee sat next to Claire on the bus back to London, but it was Dieter who intercepted her as soon as she stepped off.

“We aren’t going with them, remember? We’ve got our own agenda,” he said. He already had both of their luggage pulled aside from underneath the coach, and an assistant pulled up in a small cart prepped and ready to take all of their bags with them.

Bee breathed a sigh of relief. It felt like she was breathing air for the first time in two days like she’d been holding her breath from the moment she accidentally said the “L” word.

They were still going on their private adventure, and he didn’t hate her after all.

The cart took off, away from the main London terminal and away to a separate one that Dieter explained was only for celebrities and the extremely wealthy. They were deposited with their many bags, but a friendly employee took them on a trolley and escorted them to the shortest airport security line Bee had ever seen in her life.

“Where do you think we’re going?” Dieter asked her as they walked through the doors of a private terminal.

“Don’t tease me,” she said. “You know I don’t know. You’ve insisted on this being a secret.”

“But what if I want you to guess,” Dieter said, stepping through the metal detector. There was no place to take your shoes off here, just a straight walk through a simple detector.

“Are you going to tell me if I guess correctly?” Bee asked.

Dieter thought about the possibility for a moment and then said, “Maybe.”

“Fine,” Bee said, stepping through the metal detector too. Dieter laced his fingers through hers as soon as she came out the other side and started to guide her toward their gate.

“I want to hear them,” Dieter teased.

“Okay,” Bee said. “Cities or countries?”

“Ooh, cities,” he said.

Bee thought for a moment. She was so tired from the bus ride and nervous for alone time with Dieter that she wasn’t sure if she could even think of all of the many possibilities.

“Paris, Lisbon, Berlin, Barcelona? Milan?” she guessed, but Dieter didn’t show a single sign that she had guessed correctly or incorrectly. He simply smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

“I decided I’m not going to tell,” he said.

“Well, then I think I guessed one right if you aren’t going to tell me any more,” Bee said.

She wondered which of the five it was. She kind of hoped it was Paris, but she wasn’t set on it.

“No, I mean, I decided before you even guessed,” he said with a laugh.

Bee’s mouth dropped open. “That’s…not fair.”

“I never said it was going to be fair. I just said it was a surprise,” he said. “And I love you, you know that.”

Bee held in a gasp. He said it again. And there it was, the confirmation that Claire was right, that Dieter would never say it just to please her. He said it because he meant it.

“I love you too,” Bee said to him, and she wished she could take a picture of the look on his face when she said it back to him.

When they arrived at their gate, the plane was already ready for them to board, which Bee had never experienced before. The staff was nice and ready to cater to their every whim, but Bee already had everything she wanted. She had a boyfriend who loved her enough to treat her how she always deserved to be treated. While she didn’t need private jet secret trips, she needed the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, open and honest.

“Where are we going?” Bee asked once they took their seats. She buckled her seatbelt immediately, still not completely over her mild fear of flying.

Dieter grinned at her. “Still a secret.”

“You keep saying that,” Bee said. “But I’m not going to accept that it’s a secret as an answer, Dieter.”

Dieter laughed and buckled his own seatbelt. He reached over and fixed a stray strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

“You keep saying that, too,” Dieter said. “And I keep telling you, it’s a secret. I’ve gotten you this far without telling you. I’m not going to break down and spill now. You’ve got to be patient.”

“Hmph,” Bee said, accepting her fate. She only hoped that she wasn’t being kidnapped, though, really, she knew that Dieter would never harm her. She wondered if the plane would go to Paris or Milan. If she were Dieter Bravo, where would she take her?

The truth was, Bee wasn’t well-traveled enough to even know. She knew of the romantic cities, like Paris, but she also heard from somewhere that Paris was really disgusting and full of pickpockets and thieves. That aspect didn’t quite sound so romantic on second thought.

So, frustrated with the lack of answers but happy to spend alone time with Dieter, she nuzzled up against his shoulder and quickly fell asleep, allowing him to take her across the ocean to whatever destination he had in mind.

***

“Italy, I knew it!” Bee said when the private plane landed at the airport in Rome. The private terminal was secluded, but the sign clearly said ‘ROME,’ plain as day in bold lettering.

Dieter raised an eyebrow. “Did you really? Because you guessed like six other countries before Italy.”

Bee shrugged. “Italy was on the list, though. Doesn’t that count?”

“I don’t think so. Besides, you said ‘Milan,’ which is not where we are,” Dieter pointed out. “We’re in Rome. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t know if we’re even staying here.”

“We aren’t?” Bee asked.

Dieter put a playful hand over his mouth. “Oops. Did I give something away?”

He sort of had, but Bee had no idea what he was planning, so when the private car they got into took them to a port with elaborate cruise ships and private yachts, Bee was still surprised, to say the least.

“What are we doing here?” Bee asked him.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked. “Or can it still be a surprise?”

Bee looked at the boats with wide eyes. She’d never been on a cruise before, let alone a private yacht, and as of right now, both options were in play. But she trusted Dieter and knew he wouldn’t do anything that was going to put her in harm’s way.

“No, it can still be a surprise,” she conceded. He kissed her quickly and chaste.

“Perfect,” he said. “I’m going to make sure our bags are taken care of. Also, can I have your passport?”

“Sure,” she said, handing it over. “Don’t steal my identity.”

“I’ll try not to,” he said, stepping out of the car.

Bee waited, twiddling her fingers as Dieter made the arrangements that he needed to. He came back for her about ten minutes later and lead her toward one of the stark white yachts along the port.

“This one is ours,” Dieter said, gesturing to the yacht as he led her toward the entrance.

“Ours?” she asked.

“Ours,” he confirmed. “If you want to, we’re going to spend a week sailing around the Mediterranean.”

“If I want to?” Bee asked him. It was the most ridiculous question she’d ever been asked. Of course, she wanted to. He was offering her a dream that she had always had.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said. “I just can’t believe you arranged all of this.”

He kissed her. “I would do all of this and more for you a thousand times over.”

The words didn’t even sound real. Again, Bee got that feeling that she was stuck in someone else’s life or in the pages of a book somewhere, waiting for someone to pinch her awake.

The yacht was stunning, with luxury fixings on every inch of it. Bee hadn’t even been in hotel rooms this nice, let alone on a yacht just for the two of them. Workers were offloading their bags onto the ship, as well as a couple of packages that Bee could see Dieter’s name on.

“Stuff for the trip,” he said simply. “You needed bathing suits and stuff, so I had the costume crew pick some things out for you. I hope you like it.”

Bee didn’t know how to respond. She knew she probably looked like a deer in headlights, but Dieter grabbed her waist and pulled her close, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

“This is all for you because you deserve it,” he said. “But please let me know if any of it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Thank you, Dieter,” she said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“‘Thank you’ is okay,” he said. “But I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Bee promised.

“Good,” Dieter said, kissing her. “Let me show you the bedroom.”

Bee followed him to the private ensuite—private? It was all private—and to the massive bedroom that rivaled the size of Claire’s condo. There was a king bed in the center of the room, affixed with luxury bedding. To the left a bathroom that connected and had minimal privacy from the bedroom. The toilet was in a separate room, but a bathtub and shower were in full view of the ocean and rich sunlight.

***

The two of them slept in far past sunrise and well into the day, but Bee didn’t care. She pulled the silk sheets up around her body, making sure that she was covered. She hadn’t bothered to find her pajamas after the night before.

Dieter had worshipped her, fulfilling wants and needs she hadn’t even known she had. He didn’t conquer her, not like other men had sought out to do. Instead, he cherished her. He made love to her in the truest sense of the words.

“Good morning,” Dieter hummed, leaning over to kiss her.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Sleep well?” he asked her.

Bee smiled. “Better than I’ve ever slept before.”

“Perfect,” Dieter said. He rolled over and unplugged his phone from the charger, but she wasn’t quite ready to face reality yet. Instead, she looked out of the large windows on the right side of the bedroom, out the balcony where the sun streamed golden into the room, reflecting off of pristine blue water.

“I have to go,” he said suddenly. He ripped the bedsheets from his body, phone in hand, and haphazardly clothed himself.

“What?” Bee almost yelled. “What’s wrong?”

“I just have to go,” he said. He was still looking at his phone, furiously typing now, before rushing out onto the balcony and closing the door behind him.

That fairytale feeling she had for the past couple of weeks was gone in an instant, vanished. She was no longer someone from a romance novel or somewhere in a dream, she was in her life, Bee’s life—where things always went horribly, terribly wrong.

The feeling suffocated her, and she felt strapped to the bed, unable to follow him even though she desperately wanted to know what was the matter. He would have told her if he wanted her to know, which meant that whatever it was, this was bad.

She dressed slowly and methodically, pulling on her discarded pajamas and making sure that she calmed herself before she followed him out onto the balcony. When she opened the door, though, he refused to look up at her, still doing whatever damage control apparently needed to be done.

“What’s the matter?” Bee asked, hurt and confusion settled into the lines of her face. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

Dieter sighed and fussed with his hair. His brown eyes avoided hers, and she felt something she had only felt before in her other relationships. She felt locked out, abandoned, left alone in the dark by his refusal to share his thoughts.

“I don’t like this, Dieter,” Bee said. “I can’t have you do this to me. It hurts more than you can even understand. You can’t leave me out of your emotions. You can’t leave me like that without an explanation.”

At those words, Dieter returned to her, his gaze finding hers once more. There was hurt in his eyes, too, and Bee realized that she must have done something to make him feel this way. She ran through their interactions in the past couple of days, and she couldn’t find anything.

What could he have found out that he didn’t already know about?

She’d told him everything, bared her soul to him from between the sheets. She told him about her mom, her experience growing up with that disconnect from her culture, her tendency to seek approval from men, and her rigid opposition to doing so in the future.

Everything about her exes, her work life, her close friends and lack thereof—he even knew about the fanfiction, the obsession that she had with him, and he hadn’t seemed to care.

So what could it be?

“It got out, Bee,” Dieter said. “Everyone knows about your identity as a ‘super fan.’ Your ex, he went to the press, and he leaked everything—everything. And now my family feels like you’re after my money. The whole universe thinks so too.”

The weight of his words felt like a swift punch to the gut. Of course. Just when she thought everything was okay, it would all come crashing down again. She wasn’t safe, she wasn’t a star. Her career and her relationship were dead in the water before they even had the chance to begin. That was just her luck.

“I thought you said you didn’t care,” she said, her voice eeking out in just a whisper. “I thought it was all going to be okay. You told me you didn’t care. And I have my own money now; why would I need yours?”

Dieter looked at her, thinking over his words carefully. “I didn’t care, but when my family does, when my friends do. I don’t know, I know you have your own money. I just wish this never even happened.”

The words were so familiar, but Dieter had never said them to her before as himself. He had said them as his character when he was Duncan, and she was Celine. But those were just characters, not real people.

This couldn’t be happening to her. This only happened to Celine. Not to Bee.

Would he have to scream at his parents that he was allowed to make his own choice? She didn’t even know them.

“You wish we never happened?” Bee asked, choosing the worst of his words. It was a bad habit of hers, one brought on by a myriad of trauma, and like it always did, it escalated their disagreement.

“Don’t do that, Bee. Don’t twist my words. Of course, I don’t regret my time with you. I never would,” Dieter said. His eyes were glassy, wet but not quite ready to cry.

“So it’s over, then? Our time?” Bee asked. “You’re done with me just like that?”

She was angry, fury rising in her chest and turning her cheeks hot. He promised her they would be okay, but as soon as someone else had something to say about them, he was ready to disengage.

Dieter’s eyebrows pulled together. “I never said that. I never said I was done with you, Bee. Am I not allowed to have feelings about this, though? Because if so, we’re going to have issues. How would you feel in my position?”

Bee didn’t answer him. He was right, she was jumping to conclusions, and it was because she had never had a relationship before where communicating healthily was the norm. She was delving back into old habits, finding comfort in the toxic behavior that she had allowed in the past.

She took a deep breath in through her nose to calm her temper and looked out at the water. She would feel horrible if she were in his position. If Claire were telling her to run for the hills, she would consider accepting her advice. But even her character dealt with this, and she stood up to them. Why couldn’t Dieter do the same?

Then again, Celine was just a stupid character in a stupid Netflix show. They were Bee and Dieter, not Celine and Duncan. She had to remind herself of that, she couldn’t forget it.

“I would feel scared,” she admitted. “I would feel torn. But I still love you.”

“So you see, it’s complicated,” he said. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, dispelling anxious energy. “But I am going to fix it. I just need to get through to them, and I need to make sure that PR can handle this.”

Bee nodded. “Okay.”

“And I love you,” he said. “I’m sorry I rushed out here without an explanation. I just wanted to set the record straight with my family first. I needed to tell them that it doesn’t matter to me. I couldn’t do that while in bed with you. I didn’t want to read those things about you in front of you.”

Bee gulped. She didn’t think she wanted to know what they were either, what lies her ex had spun about her. She thanked the powers that be that she hadn’t checked her phone.

“I’m going to turn it off,” he said. “My phone. I think you should too. It was better that way when we were filming, and we just didn’t even know about it. I have a call with my PR person in an hour to figure out a statement, and then this stupid piece of metal and glass is getting turned off for the rest of our vacation.”

Bee nodded again. “I like the sound of that. Is everything going to be okay with your family?”

“I think they’ll get over it,” Dieter said. “They’re pretty relaxed, they just get defensive.”

“Oh,” Bee said. Maybe they had a reason to.

“Come here,” he said, reaching out for her. She grabbed onto his hand, and he pulled her against his chest so that they both faced the ocean. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re a star, Bee. And this is one of the stupid shitty things that comes from being a star.”

They stayed like that for a while, gazing out into the vastness of the sea, until Dieter had to leave to make his phone call with his PR team. Bee stayed in bed, busying herself by watching a movie on the massive flatscreen in their room.

When he came back, Dieter had the silliest grin on his face, one that made Bee feel a bit uneasy about what the statement would be.

“What do you think?” he asked, showing her his phone.

The text read, ‘Dieter Bravo deeply regrets that there are some that take issue with the fact that his girlfriend finds him attractive. He finds himself quite lucky to be admired by her. He also states that their show comes out on Netflix at the end of the year.’

Bee huffed a laugh through her nose. “It’s perfect.”

“I think so, too,” Dieter said, kissing her. “But not as perfect as you.”

***

Going back to the States felt a bit like getting off the private yacht Dieter took her on. She needed time to get her bearings again, to get rid of her sea legs, and to learn how to walk on dry land again. There was a reason why celebrities were so worn down, so prone to using substances to get through shit. At least, that’s how Bee felt when she returned to L.A. The brief, romantic excursion with Dieter washed away the exhaustion from filming, but it was quickly replaced with sheer sensory overload upon her return to American soil.

Paparazzi flashes at the airport left her eyes blotted with disrupting color, Dieter’s hand felt too hot in hers under the Californian sun, and her phone would not stop buzzing from the moment she turned it back on.

Every waking moment there were calls, texts, emails, and inquiries—everyone wanted to see her, talk to her, have her audition, and even have her model. Magazines, photoshoots, commercials, interviews. The barrage was a neverending deluge of people too unprofessional to leave her personal cell alone and direct their calls and questions to her agent, Mark.

“I’m going to change my fucking number,” Bee hissed, opening another bombardment of texts. “People Magazine really sinks this low? This photographer has texted me ten times in the last hour.”

Claire’s blonde head was stuck in the freezer, but Bee could still hear her laugh. Her best friend was barely clothed, her legs in the tiniest jean shorts and her torso wrapped in only a sports bra. The thermostat touched 106 degrees, and the air conditioning in the condo struggled to keep up.

“Those bastards. Sick Mark on them. He’ll set them straight,” Claire said. “Want another popsicle?”

Bee swept her hair back into a knot on the back of her head to get her hair off of her sweaty neck. Her dogs were spread out on the couch, leaving very little room for Claire to join her on the couch.

“I’d love one,” Bee said. “I feel like I’m roasting to death. Global warming is no joke.”

Claire giggled and rustled around in the freezer. Bee followed Claire’s advice and texted Mark about People Magazine. It would be a great opportunity, but she refused to get in the habit of negotiating her own prices and schedule, and her mom would freak out if she had to change her phone number to get rid of these pesky photographers.

“Are you going house hunting today?” Claire asked, handing over the popsicle and plopping down on the couch, narrowly missing sitting on Fudgy.

“Hell no, not with this weather,” Bee set her phone down in her lap. “Dieter wants to take a drive along the coast for some fresh air, but I think I might melt on the way to the car.”

“We can always hunt on Zillow a little bit,” Claire shrugged. “There’s so much available right now.”

Bee bit her lip. The idea of buying a home right now was a little too much for her to handle, but she felt like she couldn’t admit that to Claire. She didn’t want to be the type of roommate that said she would move out but never ended up doing so. In a way, she almost wanted Claire to just give her an end date, but there was no way Claire would ever rush her into leaving the safety of the condo.

Safety was her main concern if she was honest with herself. The concept of a security guard or security team was something Bee hadn’t fully gotten her head wrapped around, but Claire was used to the attention. Upon their return to the States, there was always someone available to walk them to their cars or escort them to the grocery store from afar But Bee had been back for a month now and had barely left the house. She hadn’t driven on her own, not once, and grocery delivery had been her best friend. There was no way no one had noticed that fear was starting to take over Bee’s life, but she passed it off as best as she could.

The hot weather was a great excuse, and so was a timely bout of the flu that kept her “out of commission” for a week. Dieter managed to drag her out of the house for drives every other day, but they rarely ventured out of the car for too long.

“Zillow sounds good,” Bee said, pulling up the app on her phone. There was no commitment to scrolling through houses on the app, but if she thought about it for a little too long, her hands would get clammy, and her heart would start beating a little too fast.

Together, they sat and scrolled through the lists of houses, checking out various neighborhoods. Claire would list out celebs she knew that lived in each neighborhood, and Bee would nod and smile and laugh about being neighbors with some of the stars she had looked up to for her entire life.

There was just so much to buy a house—her mom had come to America in search of providing her a life that would allow her to do just this, so she felt proud to be a homeowner someday, but the financials scared her, and the security scared her, and the fact that, like Claire was listing out—everyone would know where she lived, including creeps, stalkers, paparazzi, and maybe most importantly, her ex.

“You okay?” Claire asked, and Bee froze.

“Yeah? I’m fine,” Bee said. “Are you okay?”

She sounded too defensive, and she knew it. Claire had grown to know her like another version of herself. They’d spent months in each other’s company.

“I’m fine,” Claire said, pointing to Bee’s hands. “Your hands are shaking, girl. What is up?”

“Nothing’s up,” Bee lied, but Claire’s accusatory face hadn’t changed. She sighed and changed the lie, twisting it just slightly so it would fit. “I’m just excited, is all. It’s all overwhelming and a little crazy, having this much money and buying power. I never thought I would have that.”

It was partly true, and that was good enough for Claire. Her face softened, brows sliding down to a sympathetic position.

“Oh, I know,” Claire said. She set her phone down and reached out to place her hand on top of Bee’s. “It feels really weird to go from nothing to something all of a sudden. One day you go from never being able to afford a home anywhere in Southern California, and now you can buy a place in one of the hottest neighborhoods in L.A. It’s like whiplash.”

Bee nodded and ran her fingers through Marshmallow’s fur absentmindedly.

“It is,” Bee said. “It feels like I’m stealing, almost. Or cheated the system, like this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No, Bee,” Claire insisted. “You did the work. You deserve this outcome.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten paid this much if it wasn’t for Dieter,” Bee pointed out.

Claire frowned. “So you feel weird about it because you and Dieter are dating? That’s not right, Bee. Dieter would have done that for any female co-star, whether or not it was you. He’s very passionate about equal pay, and you two had almost identical line share, identical screen time.”

“No, it’s not that,” Bee said. “I don’t think it’s Dieter’s fault or my fault or anything. It just feels strange to have so much when I used to have so little. I mean, I was sharing an apartment with that awful man with barely anything. The whole place was filled with furniture that I either thrifted or scraped pennies together in order to buy. My car is still shitty. It’s not even remotely celebrity worthy.”

“You’ll get used to it, though,” Claire said. “One day, you won’t feel so weird about it. Your finances will be handled by professionals, you won’t really need to buy anything to live, it’ll all be investments and fun money, and it won’t feel like so much of a burden.”

“I just don’t want to forget about it all,” Bee said, changing the subject. “About Disney or any of it. The struggle is important. It’s part of who I am.”

Claire nodded. “You won’t. I mean, especially the traumatic stuff. It sticks with you even when you’re doing great. Believe me, I know.”

“I don’t really want to look at houses anymore this afternoon,” Bee admitted. “Can we just hang out?”

“Yeah, totally,” Claire said. “Want me to ask Dieter if he can come over? We started that show with him here the other night, and I don’t want to watch it without him.”

“Sure,” Bee said. She wouldn’t mind seeing him today. Though they’d seen each other quite a bit since they’d returned from their vacation after filming, she never got sick of seeing her boyfriend. For the first time, she felt like there was someone else in the world who saw her and loved her how she was meant to be loved. She felt appreciated, worshipped, even.

Claire typed out the invitation on her phone, and Bee flipped her iPhone back into Do Not Disturb mode, hoping that today would be the day that people would catch on and leave her alone.

Claire and Bee sat in silence for most of the time it took for Dieter to make his way over to the condo, and Bee rested her eyes on the couch. Stress and anxiety really took their toll on her energy levels. Before long, there was a familiar knock on their door, and Fudgy and Marshmallow were up and barking as they knew their favorite person was at the door for them.

“Hey, boys!” Dieter said excitedly, kneeling down to give each of her puppies the attention they were craving. He ruffled Fudgy’s ears and scratched at Marshmallow’s butt. “Did you miss me?”

Bee unfolded herself from her position on the couch to meet him over at the door.

“Hey, Bee,” Dieter said, standing up and giving her an easy smile. “Phone doing any better?”

Claire quickly turned on the TV and navigated to the show they had been watching the other night, eager to start watching the show they’d been watching.

Bee rolled her eyes. “No. I mean, kind of. But mostly the same. Why are these people so desperate to get ahold of me?”

“You’re a star,” Dieter said, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close so that his chin touched the top of her head. “The world hasn’t even seen the show you did so much work on yet, but they still want more. Are you still so against changing your number?”

“I’ve had the same number for so long,” Bee said against his chest. “My mom would freak out. She’s freaking horrible with tech and phones. She’d harass the poor soul who got this old number until the end of time.”

Dieter stepped back and smiled at her, his lips pulling up the corners of his mouth.

“You’re so selfless,” he teased. “Punishing yourself so your mom doesn’t have to learn a new phone number. You know, not everyone has had the same cell number for the past two decades. It’s normal to get a new one every so often.”

“No, it’s not! Nothing is normal about having to change your phone number because people won’t stop harassing you!” Bee protested. Her tone was a little harsh, but she softened the outburst with a smile. “I mean, really. Being famous isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”

“No one ever said it was,” Claire said, passing them both on her way to the kitchen. “I know it’s hot, but does anyone want snacks? Popcorn, chips, carrots, and dip? Wine? Beer? Something to eat?”

“Thanks, Mom,” Dieter joked. “I’ll take a beer.”

Claire made a face at him but ultimately grabbed a beer for him and poured herself and Bee each a glass of wine.

“Popcorn would be nice,” Bee said. “Like a little movie night.”

“Exactly,” Claire said. She placed a bag in the microwave and winked at her. “Movie nights are good for the soul.”

***

The next few weeks were just as stressful as the last, but with Dieter and Claire to keep her company, Bee felt her nerves starting to settle. She even let Dieter finally take her out with a list from his real estate agent to take a look at some smaller houses in his neighborhood. Her budget was flexible thanks to his contract negotiations, and with a healthy list of auditions stacking up, Bee had high hopes for future cash that would back up her new asset.

It was one thing to buy a house with cash and quite another thing to worry about the hefty property taxes on it.

Dieter liked the idea of them each having their own place, especially if hers was smaller. They could rent hers out whenever they were ready to move in together, he would say, and Bee would smile. She was excited for the day that would come, but in the meantime, it felt good to dream about independence.

“Why is it that a house makes you so nervous?” he asked her after they looped through the third street on her list.

She looked at him and pushed her sunglasses onto her forehead to look at him clearer. “What makes you think I’m nervous?”

“Your hands are balled up in fists,” Dieter pointed out. “They’re only ever like that when you’re nervous about something.”

Bee frowned. He saw right through her, and after almost two months of lying to both Claire and Dieter about her feelings about buying a house, it felt like time to come clean.

“Can we not talk about it right now?” Bee asked. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

“You aren’t ruining anything,” Dieter promised. “But of course, we can stop by my house after this next street and grab a cold drink and talk?”

Bee nodded. It was another hot day, but she hadn’t been able to use the heat as an excuse to weasel out of going house hunting today—not after L.A.’s latest heat wave that had no end in sight.

“That’s a nice one,” Dieter commented as they drove slowly past another option. “I like the color.”

“Yeah,” Bee agreed. “This one is my favorite. The curb appeal and everything. Plus it has a really nice pool. Do you think the dogs would like swimming?”

Dieter laughed. “Yes, I think Fudgy, for sure. Maybe not Marshmallow.”

“Really?” Bee asked. “I was thinking it would be the other way around.”

Dieter shook his head. “I know my sons.”

Bee made a kissy face at him, and Dieter leaned in for a quick peck. She loved it when he referred to himself as their father, as silly as it sounded. They hadn’t had conversations about children or anything like that, not yet, but his adoption of her two small dogs made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

They drove past two more houses for sale that Bee didn’t like as much before Dieter directed them back onto his street and parked in his driveway. Bee followed him into his house, gripping the straps of her purse as she walked. She’d only been to Dieter’s house once, as he preferred to come over to Claire’s to see the dogs when they spent time together.

His house was nice, fresh, and clean and had plenty of windows. Today the shades were drawn in an attempt to ward off the heat, leaving the space darker than usual. Dieter led her to the kitchen, a large and expensive looking one at that, equipped with a luxury stove and a massive island counter.

“Tell me all about it, babe,” Dieter said, opening the fridge. “It’s almost been two months since we’ve been back, and you used to be so excited about buying a house. What happened? What changed?”

“It’s…well,” Bee didn’t know how to talk about her feelings. They had been trapped within her for so long that they almost felt stuck. She’d gotten somewhere with it with Claire a few weeks ago, but that was just the surface of her hesitation. “Okay, there’s a lot of different things.”

“Well, start with one,” Dieter said. He poured her a glass of lemonade with plenty of ice cubes in it. “We can work from there. What’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

“Safety,” Bee sighed. “I’m worried about people knowing where to find me, breaking in, stealing my dogs. People do that! It happened to Lady Gaga. It could happen to Fudgy or Marshmallow. Paparazzi catching me taking the trash out, a creeper being in the back of my car when I go to leave the house, and kidnapping me. It’s all in my head just how dangerous it is.”

Dieter nodded, his brown eyes full of understanding. “We’ll get you security, Bee. You’ll be safer than you’ve ever been before. You’ve never lived alone, have you?”

“No,” Bee admitted. “But I want to. I really do, I don’t want to overstay my welcome with Claire, and I’m not ready to live with another man.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to do it yet.”

“But I do,” Bee insisted.

“You do?” Dieter raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you had a move-out date or anything from Claire. She loves living with you.”

Bee’s shoulders sagged, and she took a long sip of her lemonade to clear the tightening feeling in her throat. “It’s not Claire. It’s me. It’s what I want to do, but at the same time, I’m just so scared.”

“That’s okay,” Dieter said. “It’s okay to be afraid about safety, but I’ll make sure that you have the best of the best when it comes to security. I know all the good companies. So does Claire. That’s something that you won’t have to worry about when you move out, I promise you. Okay?”

Bee nodded. That did make her feel a lot better, and she wished she’d brought it up to him earlier. “Okay. Yeah. I trust you, Dieter.”

“Good,” he smiled. “What’s the other thing?”

“Um, money,” she admitted. “Property taxes, expenses. What if I never get another role, and I can’t afford to keep myself safe?”

“Not going to happen,” Dieter promised. “You’re getting so many auditions. You’re so talented.”

“Yeah,” Bee agreed. “That’s true. I’ve already been talking myself out of that fear. I am kind of worried it’ll all disappear once people actually see the show and realize I’m awful at this and don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Impossible,” Dieter said, stepping closer to her. “You’re amazing. You’re a true hidden gem of Hollywood. There’s no way anyone would let you slip out of the spotlight. You’re just too good for that. How many auditions do you have next week?”

“Um,” Bee counted them in her head. “Five?”

“Insane,” Dieter laughed. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “You’re crushing it.”

“Thank you,” Bee said, pulling back and giving him a peck on the lips. There were tears at the corners of her eyes, and she tried to hide them from him, but he saw them and wiped them away. “But they’re opportunities, not sure things.”

“There’s more for you,” Dieter insisted and kissed both of her cheeks. “I know there is. And what else are you afraid of? Is there anything else I can help fact-check for you?”

Bee sniffed. “I mean, you’re doing such a good job. You could probably fact-check all of my worries.”

“I know I can,” Dieter said. “I’m your biggest fan, Bee.”

“Do you run the Bee Fan Club?” she joked, tapping him on the nose.

“I’m the Bee Fan Club President,” Dieter said, the biggest smile plastered on his face. “Unanimously voted in. Anything else?”

“I think the last thing is the guilt. I talked about it with Claire a little bit, but I’m worried about losing the girl I was when I met you. The girl at Disney might go away forever, and I don’t want you to hate the new me,” Bee admitted. “Who will I be with a multi-million dollar home? You know? I think that changes people.”

“No, don’t think that way,” Dieter said. “You will always be that Disney girl who captivated me from the very first moment. House or no house, you will always be Bee.”

Bee let his words sit with her for a moment. He was right. She was Bee, and as Claire had said, she wouldn’t ever lose her history. The context that came with her story was why she was able to connect with certain characters in her audition scripts, in her main role, to other people. Her entire life, she had wanted this stardom. She wouldn’t let it ruin her.

“Okay, I think I’m ready to go out and look at more houses,” Bee said.

“Finish your lemonade,” Dieter said. “Then we can go out and look again.”

“Can we start over?” Bee asked. “I wasn’t really paying attention to the other ones we’d driven past. I was feeling so sick to my stomach about it. I really want to look at them again for real this time.”

“Of course we can,” Dieter said, kissing her on the lips. “Let’s do it.”

***

New keys in hand and Marshmallow and Fudgy anxiously wanting to get out of the rain, Bee unlocked the door to her first-ever home. The house was two blocks away from Dieter, a short drive from Claire, and the most perfect choice she could have ever made. The home was nestled between two other newer celebrities, so not only did she have her own security team but the security teams of other celebrities right on either side.

Her mom visited two weeks before, and the experience was okay—not great, not terrible, but she was obsessed with Dieter and loved the house from the outside when they did a brief pre-closing walk-through. She cried, and Bee cried too. And Dieter even teared up even though he tried his best to sneak out of the home while mother and daughter shared their moment.

“You get back here,” her mom had said, pointing her finger at the ground where they stood. “You’re a part of this too. Thank you, Dieter. For being good to her.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Bee had said. And it was the best moment that they had shared in a long time.

After her mom came, life sped up rapidly. With the house purchase, upcoming move, and promo for the Netflix show rapidly approaching, Bee was surprisingly at ease. Her life felt better, busy, better while stressed with a full plate.

What is that saying again? Idle minds make problems. That’s what Bee wrote off her earlier anxiety as. Now, she felt better. More secure. She had a stable boyfriend, a relationship that felt healthy and supportive. Someone to go furniture shopping with at an actual furniture store instead of browsing thrift stores on her own with a partner at home that didn’t care.

“No, wait, Bee!” Dieter called out, jogging up the driveway. “I need to get a picture for your mom!”

Bee paused, key still in the door. She hadn’t yet pushed it open, so she pulled her hands away from the door and put her hands on her hips.

“What do you mean you need a picture for my mom? Is she texting you?” Bee accused.

Dieter looked sheepish. “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s none of your business. But I do need a picture of you unlocking that door. I want one too. It’ll be a nice memory.”

“Fine,” Bee conceded. She put her hand back on the key and posed for his camera. “Got it?”

“Beautiful,” he said, looking at the finished result. “Alright, let’s get these pooches locked away. You said you wanted them to stay in the upstairs bathroom while we move stuff in?”

“Yes, please,” Bee said. “They’ll be less stressed that way. Is Claire coming right now with the rest of it?”

“Yep,” Dieter said. “And then we’ll have everything you own in your brand new home, and then we can go furniture shopping.”

“Not the thrift store?” Bee asked with a grin.

“Nope,” Dieter said. “Not IKEA either. We’re going to a real furniture store, with really nice stuff that will last you forever. Or at least until you get bored.”

Bee laughed and pushed the door open, opening the door to her first-ever home. The dogs rushed inside, happy to be out of the rain, and immediately started bouncing up and down.

“Are you happy, boys? Your mom bought her own house!” Dieter said, getting the dogs more excited. He knelt down and unhooked both of their leashes, leading them up the stairs to where they would stay while they completed the quick, moving process.

Bee still didn’t have much—she hadn’t bought much of anything since that day that she moved out of her and her boyfriend’s apartments. Then, her belongings only filled up her car and some in Claire’s, but now, she wouldn’t have to be afraid about rushing out of the home as quickly as she could. This was her house and would be her house until the day she decided to sell it or the day she died.

And one day, she might even share her own house with Dieter. Something that they could own together. Now that she’d made this big step on her own, that was her next goal. She didn’t want to move into his house.

She wanted something that they would share someday, half his and half hers.

***

“Bee! Look this way!” a paparazzo shouted, clicking his camera in her face. Bee covered her face with her hand and continued walking. The lights bothered her, even though she really didn’t care about getting caught out with a picture right now. Promo was starting for the Netflix show, and really, she needed the visibility right now.

All of the cast members had been asked to get out in public as much as possible. Dieter and Bee had several high-profile dates planned at fancy restaurants around town, a Disneyland trip with Claire that would harken back to the time when she once worked for Disney, and so many photoshoots that Bee couldn’t even get her schedule straight.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from Bee,” her security guard said. “She has somewhere to be at the moment, so it’s time to back off.”

“Thanks, Stephen,” Bee said once the paparazzo backed off, and she was safely in the car. “I appreciate you.”

“No need to thank me, Bee,” Stephen said. “It’s never a problem.”

Stephen had been there for her through the fall after she moved into her own home. She and Dieter had been careful about not spending too many nights at each other’s houses. Bee wanted the full experience of being alone and living alone for the first time, and that experience undoubtedly came with scary fans.

She was right, and her fears were realized. People found out where she lived when she purchased her home, as soon as the papers were filed. News articles were published with her address, a full-color photo of her new home, and the exact amount she paid for it. The articles came with plenty of nasty comments that played right into Bee’s thoughts about losing her identity as a poor girl. Of course, they did. But Bee’s skin grew thick quickly, and no one was able to touch her with the help of her capable security team.

There was only one near miss. One night, Stephen tazed someone in the bushes right outside her bedroom window. But that’s showbiz, baby. Bee reviewed it all in-depth with her brand-new therapist, courtesy of Dieter’s recommendation.

He had one, too, he told her over a nice dinner in her new home. Ever since he got really famous, he needed someone to keep him on track. He recommended a clinic that many celebrities went to, a place that was super discrete and even offered telehealth. She tried it, and it helped her, so she kept going.

Bee’s driver delivered her and Stephen to the Netflix studio for a photoshoot. It was a solo shoot, so there was no Dieter or Claire today. Her therapist helped her work through these scenarios over the past couple of months as she prepared herself for stepping back into the public in such a huge way.

She needed the coaching, especially with two more roles on the horizon. The Bridgerton show was set to release in a month, in December, and her next show started filming in January in New Mexico. Dieter would be coming along for half of the filming time, as he had a break in his schedule, but for the rest of the two-month filming schedule, she would be alone.

Then, she would have the spring to relax and rehearse in L.A. before she would go to Canada to film a new Disney Marvel movie in the summer. Dieter wasn’t sure what his schedule looked like for then yet. There was the Star Wars show, but they hadn’t decided on a filming time yet. But after a lot of conversation, Bee and Dieter decided that it was in both of their best interests to keep a focus on work and make time for each other when they could.

Bee needed her independence and her own experience as a celebrity, and Dieter was so in demand that he couldn’t pass up on opportunities just to stay in L.A. with her.

They would visit on natural breaks in the filming schedules and try to find projects that had some overlap, each choosing something with a summer filming schedule and resting at the same times throughout the year.

Bee was happy with it. She didn’t need Dieter every night, even though she wanted him around that frequently. She was learning who she was, growing into a celebrity, and growing into her relationship with Dieter.

She checked her phone as she walked into the studio. It buzzed four times in her purse in quick succession, so it must have been something important. Photographers no longer reached out to her through her personal phone after she mentioned in an interview that it was her biggest celebrity pet peeve. Instead, it was Dieter who was messaging her.

[Dieter]: Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled, but there’s something going on.

[Dieter]: Your ex got my number somehow.

[Dieter]: He’s been making threats that seem pretty credible. I hope you trust me that I would never escalate something unless it were necessary. I’ve had my team contact the police.

[Dieter]: I love you, don’t worry about this while you are at your shoot. Everything is going to be ok.

Bee blew out the breath she had been holding in through her teeth. Great, this was just what she needed right before a big shoot.

Everything had been so good lately, so stable, and it had been months. Why now? But then she realized. Of course, he would come back into her life now. Of course, he would. Her big debut was releasing in a month, and he didn’t want her to have all she had now. He probably saw the articles about her shiny new house that she bought all on her own, the press about how critics who had seen the early release already loved her performance, and the paparazzi pics that were flooding social media every day.

She couldn’t hold this in throughout the photoshoot. Not only did she know herself better, but she was told by her therapist that she shouldn’t. There was plenty of time before she needed to be in hair in makeup to go and give Dieter a quick phone call to get all of the information. She wanted to make sure that he was safe and that the dogs were safe. Had Dieter contacted her security team too?

It had to be now. This phone call couldn’t wait.

Bee dialed Dieter’s number from his message thread and waited for him to pick up. She stood right inside the doors of the studio and leaned against the wall.

“Hey babe,” Dieter said. He sounded slightly panicked, more nervous than she’d ever heard him before. He was moving around, too, walking from what she could tell.

“Hey,” Bee said. “You need to tell me what’s going on. I really need to know all of the details before I go into the photo shoot.”

“Are you sure?” Dieter asked. “I just don’t want to overwhelm you right before. Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah,” Bee said. “Did you make sure Stephen knows too? I want to make sure the dogs are ok.”

“I actually asked them to bring the dogs over to my place just for today. Since you’ll be gone all day. Is that okay?”

Bee closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s okay. Is it really that bad? What did he say he was going to do?”

“Um,” Dieter trailed off, and Bee could hear the sound of him moving the blinds. She imagined him peeking out the window and making sure he was safe. It made her heart feel tight in her chest.

“Is it really that bad?” Bee asked again. “Do I need to do anything? Should I come home?”

“No, you’re safer there,” Dieter insisted. “Do your photoshoot. It’s important. He just—he basically just said he was going to kill me. It’s probably just a stupid threat, and maybehe won’t even show up, but he said how and when he was going to do it.”

“How?” Bee breathed.

“You don’t want to know. It’s okay,” Dieter said. “Please trust me. We can talk more about it later. But the police are involved, and with my security, we’ll be fine. We should probably stay at my place tonight because I already have people in place. Or maybe a hotel? I’ll talk with the cops about what we should do, but if we’re all together with both teams? I know it’s not our night to stay together tonight, we’re usually at separate houses on Wednesdays, and I don’t want to cross that boundary, but I think for safety, maybe? I don’t know, I’m not an expert at this sort of thing, but maybe it would make me feel safer, but you should also do what feels safest to you.”

“Dieter,” Bee interrupted. “Of course.”

“Sorry,” Dieter apologized. “‘Of course’ to which part? Sorry, I was rambling.”

“Of course, I’ll stay with you,” Bee said. “We don’t have to stick to any schedule. It’s just a guideline. A good habit of keeping ourselves spending a good amount of time in our own houses.”

“You’re right,” Dieter said. “I’m sorry, this just has me rattled. I’ve had death threats before, but they’ve always been from crazy strangers. And I guess, to me, your ex is a crazy stranger too, but—just because he knows you, it feels more real. It’s like a real person actually wants to kill me, and for kind of a good reason.”

“What?” Bee laughed. “There is no good reason to kill someone ever. What did you do to make my ex want to kill you that’s a good reason?”

“I stole the best woman in the world right out from under his nose,” Dieter said, stone-cold serious. “I’d kill me too if I were him.”

“Well, if that’s the case, it’s himself he should be angry with. He blocked his own shot on that one,” Bee said honestly. “And for what it’s worth, I’ve never been happier.”

“That’s good,” Dieter said.

“It is good,” Bee agreed.

“Then my valiant death will be worth it,” Dieter joked.

“Oh my god, I am going to hang up on you,” Bee said, clutching her chest. “You cannot joke like that while my psycho ex is threatening to kill you. There will be no dying, no death, no nothing. It’s not allowed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dieter said. “No dying, no death, no nothing. I’ll see you when you get home?”

“Yes,” Bee sighed. “I’ll see you when I get home. After eight hours of prancing around in a corset. I’m going to need a bath.”

“Good thing I have a bathtub,” Dieter teased.

“Listen, my house may not have a bathtub, but it makes up for it in character and three incredible showers,” Bee said. “Plus, I can easily pay to have a bathtub put in.”

“Okay, Miss Moneybags, go have fun at your photo shoot,” Dieter said. “I’ll man the fort here with the dogs. They’re on their way over.”

“Alright. I love you,” Bee said into the phone. She pushed off the wall and opened the second door to the Netflix studio.

“I love you, too,” Dieter said. “So very much.”

***

The week before the premiere of their show, Dieter and Bee went on their planned outing to Disneyland. The trip wasn’t like she remembered from her days at Disney as an employee, nor was it like when she went with Dieter before the park opened for their filmed segment. Instead, it was security all around them and fans trying desperately to get their attention.

It was a cool day, the Christmas decorations were hung up, and throughout the day people mostly got the message that both of them didn’t want to be bothered while they were grabbing churros in Tomorrowland and holding hands in line for Space Mountain.

“Are you having a good time?” Dieter asked her, handing her a churro.

Bee took a bite and nodded. “Of course I am. I love Disney.”

“So do I,” Dieter said. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “It’s my favorite like this, with all of the decorations up before Christmas.”

“Mine too,” Bee agreed. “And the treats at Christmas are always the best.”

“Did you invent any of them?” Dieter asked.

“I’m sure there’s something I worked on that’s out this year,” Bee said. “We’ll have to stop by the bakery.”

The line for Space Mountain moved quickly, and luckily, the people directly around them either didn’t know who they were or didn’t think to bother them. They held hands in line, flirted, and pretended like they weren’t two celebrities that were about to become exponentially more famous with the release of their show.

It was sure to be a hit, something that critics were raving over already, reviews now being published online, with some of them claiming that their Bridgerton spinoff show was better than both seasons of the original.

After watching it herself, Bee was inclined to agree with them. Not that she was biased or anything. Though, the one thing she didn’t like was watching the spicy scenes that were sprinkled throughout. It felt a bit like watching self-made porn since it was her and her boyfriend. Also, no woman should ever have to look at her own fake moaning face. It was mortifying.

“Which Mountain is your favorite?” Bee asked Dieter as they were about to get on the ride.

“Space, Splash or…?” Dieter trailed off, unable to remember the third.

“Big Thunder,” Bee said.

“Oh, Space for sure,” Dieter said.

“Agreed. Space is the best one.”

Together, they stepped into their seats right at the front of the line and linked hands. The ride was a rush, adrenaline pumping through their veins, and Bee laughed like a maniac the entire time, black hair whirling through the air. Dieter squeezed her hand hard and screamed so loud that it hurt her ears.

“Are you actually scared?” Bee yelled over the sound of the coaster.

Either he couldn’t hear her or he refused to answer the question, but Bee could have sworn that Dieter was truly frightened. And when they got off of the coaster, both of their hair tussled from the windy spins of the indoor coaster. Dieter led Bee straight to the exit where the ride photos were displayed.

“Oh my god,” Dieter said when they walked up to it, the apples of his cheeks turned red with embarrassment. “It’s so bad.”

His mouth was opened wide, a scream of terror upon his lips. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his hand, in hers, lifted high above his head. Bee was smiling, exhilarated, but her hair was draped over her eyes, and her hand was yanked high into the air by Dieter.

Bee scanned the code for the photo to add it to her phone. “It’s perfect.”

***

“Are you ready?” Dieter asked her, holding her hand.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Bee said, giving his hand a squeeze. She’d grown used to the feeling of his warm skin against hers, the tingling she still got from his touch, and the goosebumps that made her feel like they were destined to be together. Attracted on an electrical level, a soul level, something bigger than just man meets woman.

Or maybe that was just the romance digging around in her brain. Her next role would be a romance too, but the one after that was action. She’d cycle through characters for the next several years, or so it seemed. Over the last week, she secured three more roles, each scheduled more than a year out from now.

“We’ll struggle for time to plan the wedding,” Dieter had said when she told him about the most recent series she booked. He was lying in her bed with his shirt off, Fudgy and Marshmallow tucked against either side of him, snoozing away.

Bee had looked at him, wide-eyed in shock. “What did you just say?”

“Just kidding,” Dieter had said. “No need to worry about it.”

“Well, what do you mean?” Bee had asked.

“I mean, we’ll have plenty of time for a wedding whenever we decide that’s something we want,” Dieter had laughed. And then she’d kissed him until her lips hurt.

But that was days ago. Now, they stood hand in hand, ready to go into their last interview before their show’s debut. It was supposed to be their biggest bit of pre-release promo. The next set of promotions they would do would all happen after fans had seen the show.

Appearances for YouTube videos, social media, podcasts, and smaller pieces of short-form content that were perfect for viral TikToks.

This interview, though, was for primetime TV. Bee and Dieter—the newest stars of your favorite Netflix show.

TV interviews were exactly how Bee expected them to be. Hot, bright lights and assistants fussing over every stray hair and stray eyelash on her cheek. She felt self-conscious, looking at how the assistants focused so closely on her but left Dieter mostly alone. He was flawlessly beautiful, but they needed to work so hard on her.

Maybe she didn’t belong with him after all.

No, Bee, she told herself. You do belong with him. He loves you, and you love him, and that’s all that matters.

Therapy had helped with those doubts, with testing reality and making sure she was grounded, but it still didn’t quite erase the anxiety she felt when she felt like she didn’t belong in places.

The interviewer was bottle blonde, hot and thin, and effortlessly beautiful. She sat across from them with a slim notebook in her nails, French manicured nails tapping on the front of the journal absentmindedly. The cameras in front of her were massive, a bright green screen right behind her.

“I’m Melissa,” she said. “It’s so great to meet you, Dieter and Bee.”

“Hi Melissa,” Bee said with a cheery voice. She put her best foot forward for this interview, embracing her actress persona. As much as she tried to stay true to herself, there was a mask she always put on when she was interviewing or posing for photos, or acting. She was rarely her true self when there was a camera around.

“Good to see you again, Melissa,” Dieter said. Of course, he knew her. He’d likely interviewed with her dozens of times before. There was a pang of jealousy in her chest. She didn’t like that he was so good at all of these things, and she was still learning.

“Ready to launch this damn show? I haven’t gotten to watch it early. Someone at Netflix took away my access, can you fucking believe it?” Melissa asked. Dieter laughed, so Bee laughed too.

“Hell yeah,” Dieter said, slipping into his own persona, which wasn’t so far from his own self, or at least the person Bee had come to know.

“Action!” someone on set said.

“Hi, everyone. It’s Melissa here. I’m here with Dieter and Bee from Netflix’s newest show, Before Bridgerton, A Bridgerton Story, which is set to release tonight at midnight,” Melissa said directly into the camera. “The show follows Duncan and Celine as they battle their feelings and the expectations put on them by Regency era London while trying to avoid falling in love, at all costs.”

“So, I’ve got to ask,” Melissa continued. “How much fun was shooting this show? Because from the trailer and the sneak peeks of the costuming, it looks like this series is going to be better than the original Bridgerton.”

She looked toward Bee for a response, so Bee decided to go first.

“You know, I’ve never gotten to wear a corset before I filmed for this series, and I can’t say that corsets are the most comfortable attire, but the costuming team really went all out with the dresses for this show. I felt like a Disney princess every single day,” Bee said with a grin.

“Seriously!” Melissa said. “It looked like my dream come true. I want to try one on.”

“I’ve got one at my house,” Bee joked. “We could go have a dress-up party later on if you want.”

“I’d love that! I might have to take you up on that, Bee! And what about you, Dieter? Have you ever had to wear clothes like this for a project?”

“Um, no, actually. I’ve worn my fair share of designer clothes, but nothing that required me to wear such a tight neck scarf. Though I’ve gotta say, I might need to incorporate them into my wardrobe after this. They look pretty good,” Dieter said.

“They do! You look pretty sharp in those promos,” Melissa said.

“Thank you, Melissa,” Dieter said, and Bee tried her best to ignore the compliment given to her boyfriend right in front of her. It seemed like a slight flirtation, but maybe she was just being nice.

“And what was your favorite moment on set?” Melissa asked, opening her notebook and

pretending to read off the page. From where Bee was sitting, she couldn’t see a single word on

the page.

“Oh my gosh,” Dieter said with a grin. “You know, this cast was so fun to work with. I wouldn't exactly call our show a comedy, but this cast has some of the funniest people I’ve ever met. I think my favorite moment on set was when our co-star, Claire, took a bite out of an apple, and she was supposed to be doing it seductively, but someone else kept forgetting a line. After so many takes, she kept starting over with new apples to the point where she probably ate ten whole apples over an hour of filming the scene.”

“No way,” Melissa said. “Was she okay? I feel like I would hurl if I had to eat ten apples so quickly. What was the line that was messed up? Did whoever it was feel bad that poor Claire had to keep biting into the apple?”

Bee wrestled back her embarrassment. It was her who kept messing up that scene, but Dieter didn’t reveal it. She’d laughed at Claire’s misery when it was happening, and so had everyone else. They were exhausted, it was hot, and when all was said and done it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“She tried to spit it out of her mouth at one point, but it was all recorded since the camera was rolling, so that strategy didn’t exactly work out for her,” Bee interjected.

“And what about you, Bee? Your favorite moment?” Melissa asked.

It was the picnic she and Dieter had on that hillside outside the castle they toured together. But something about that moment seemed too private to share with Melissa and with the world. That moment was for her and Dieter alone, locked away in their memories.

So, Bee came up with something else. Something less near and dear to her heart. Something else entirely.

“Mine was less of a moment and more of something that happened often,” Bee said. “But we got to eat a lot of the food that you see throughout the show. All the balls and banquets had real food at them, cakes and feasts, and the cooks were incredible. Best food I’d ever eaten.”

“So, a little birdie told me that you two have been dating throughout the filming process and since you’ve returned to Los Angeles,” Melissa said.

Dieter laughed and readjusted his position in his chair, and Bee acted similarly. They were going for bashful as if they’d been caught and had no idea other people knew. Even though Dieter had already made a statement about it, it was better to play it innocently, according to the folks at Netflix.

“Maybe,” Dieter said, looking over at Bee. “Um, do you wanna?”

“Do I wanna what?” Bee asked him with a small laugh.

“I guess I’ll just—yeah, yeah, we have been dating,” Dieter said.

“Well, we know you made a statement! The birdie was you!” Melissa laughed.

“Okay, yeah,” Dieter confessed.

“Yes,” Bee confirmed. “We’re together. As Bee and Dieter and as Celine and Duncan. In real life and on the screen.”

“Oh, I just love that,” Melissa cooed. “So when people tune into your show, they’re going to see like actual love?”

“Um,” Bee bit her lip. “Well, I don’t know if it was truly love back then for us? I don’t quite remember the exact timeline.”

“But it’s love now?” Melissa probed.

“Oh, absolutely,” Dieter confirmed, maybe a little too passionately. “I mean, right?”

Bee laughed. “Of course, it is, silly.”

Melissa fawned over them and scribbled in her little notebook.

“So, how did you and Dieter meet?” she asked. “Did you meet on set? Was it love at first sight, or did you have a slow burn throughout the filming process?”

“I-” Dieter started, but then Melissa interrupted once more.

“Oh no! The photos from London came out before you filmed, so did you bond over your traumatic experience?”

“Well,” Dieter said, placing his hand on top of hers. “Should I tell or do you want to tell it?”

“You go ahead,” Bee said, smiling up at him.

“So, Bee and I actually met at Disney,” Dieter explained. “There’s a promotional video for my Disney+ show, the Star Wars one, where Bee actually interviewed me. And it was pretty much then when I realized that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

“So then what? How did you end up on a show together?” Melissa pressed. “That’s a pretty big coincidence.

That coincidence was exactly what Bee had been afraid of. Cries of nepotism or Dieter getting her roles were what she didn’t want, but Dieter knew how to avoid it. Bee had done all the work to get the role. Dieter or no Dieter, she probably would have still gotten it.

“Well, Bee was also working on becoming an actress at the time. It was genuinely a coincidence that Bee and I both auditioned, and the directors could see the same chemistry that I guess we were both feeling at the time.”

“Oh, definitely,” Melissa agreed. “I can see it right now. You two are such a beautiful couple.”

“Thank you, Melissa,” Bee and Dieter said at the same time.

“Well, that’s all the time we have. Be sure to stream Bee and Dieter’s newest show, Bridgerton: Before Bridgerton tonight, starting at midnight local time. I know I am going to binge watch it, and you should too.”

***

Bee’s premiere dress was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. It was cut deep down to her sternum, revealing her cleavage and hugging tight to her curves, but she felt the most confident she’d ever felt before. Dieter stood by her side, waiting away from the cameras as other celebrities walked the red carpet and cameras flashed.

He was dressed to the nines, looking hotter than he’d ever looked to her before, and his calming presence by her side was like a weighted blanket keeping her safe and warm.

“You guys are next,” Claire said to them as she prepared to step out onto the carpet. She picked up her dress with her hands and walked out and around the corner. “Best of luck.”

“You’re gonna kill it, Claire,” Bee called out after her, but her best friend probably couldn't hear her over the sound of cameras flashing.

“So will you,” Dieter whispered, his lips suddenly close to her ear. His mouth was almost against her neck, running goosebumps down her arms and tingling down her spine.

“So will you,” Bee said, her back still turned to him.

“It’s about to be our turn,” he said, planting a kiss on her skin. “After you, Bee.”

She didn’t look back at him but instead walked out and around the corner with her head held high. Confidence ran her, pushing her out into the sea of lights and cameras.

“Bee!” the crowd screamed. “Bee! Oh my god!”

Then, followed by the cries of “Dieter! Bee and Dieter look this way!”

“Are you ready?” Dieter asked her, his lips close by her ear this time, giving her hand three squeezes.

She turned around and kissed him right on the lips in front of the cameras.

“Yes,” Bee said. “I am.”

Dieter POV 1 | Series Masterlist

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo x oc #agentbrandy #Dieter and Bee Universe

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itsbrandy · 5 months

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Burnout Chapter 13

A/N: Why does Dieter have to look at Bee like that?

Summary: After celebrating Bee's birthday, the cast has to quickly head to England to begin filming. Set life and navigating their new relationship is proving to be tough.

Word Count: 15.6k (This one increased a lot)

End of Episode song: I'm So Tired - The Beatles

Chapter 13: Dieter and The Hollywood Nobody

Everyone in the room stood up and clapped for Bee, and cameras flashed to get her reaction to the surprise party. Bee’s eyes found Claire quickly, sitting at a circular table near her. She looked suspiciously guilty, with a hot pink flush even underneath her layers of blush.

“Claire, what the fuck?” Bee screeched. The decor was jaw-dropping, the location was certainly high-end, and the fact that there were so many familiar faces in the room brought tears to her eyes immediately.

Claire raised her hands up in the air as if to say, ‘wasn’t me.’ She looked at Dieter, and Bee followed her eyes to the true culprit behind the lavish surprise party.

“Dieter, no, you didn’t,” Bee said, glaring up at him.

The smile on his face was sheepish, and he gave her a small shrug. His actions needed no explanation. He was thoroughly, inexplicably busted. Bee couldn’t even put into words how livid and honored she was. The two emotions were clashing in her head, and in front of so many people, all she could do was put on a smile.

“Happy Birthday, Bee,” Dieter said, wrapping an arm around her. “Go on, have fun.”

Bee rolled her eyes at him but still flashed a smile at him as she ventured into the party to greet her friends and costars.

“Thank you, Dieter,” Bee said.

Claire stood and embraced her in a tight squeeze. “As if we wouldn’t throw you a birthday party.”

“I’m too old for birthday parties,” Bee said with a slight laugh. “But I guess so.”

Claire sucked her teeth and placed a hand on Bee’s shoulder. “One thing you’ll learn about Hollywood is that you’re never too old to party.”

While that might be true, Bee couldn’t remember the last time someone had made this much of a fuss about her birthday. The most she had gotten from her ex was grocery store flowers and a last-minute gift ordered from Amazon.

The room was packed full, even with people that she didn’t know. Waiters milled about filling glasses of wine and added a basket of warm bread to each table. A table filled with gifts caught Bee with another flurry of irritation.

“What is wrong with him?” Bee asked. “Why is he so sweet?”

Claire laughed and took a sip of her wine. “He likes you, duh. You’re dating.”

Well, that much was obvious, but why did he go above and beyond so consistently? Not only was he ridiculously hot, but he was also ridiculously sweet, and the two traits didn’t frequently go together, at least from Bee’s experience.

“Glass of wine?” a waiter asked her from behind.

Bee blushed and accepted the glass, hoping that this random waiter hadn’t just overheard their conversation.

“Thank you,” Bee told the waiter.

“Can I steal the birthday girl for a second?” a familiar voice asked from behind her.

Bee had seen Staci when she walked in, but she hadn’t yet had time to process that Dieter had somehow managed to invite Staci to her birthday party. She wasn’t even sure that Dieter knew they were friends. They had been chatting together when Dieter and Bee were in the same room for the first time, but she would not have noticed if the roles were reversed.

“Staci!” Bee squealed, throwing her arms around her friend’s neck.

“Happy birthday, Bee!” Staci screamed, doing the classic fangirling squeal. “I’m so glad I get to see you before you go off to England.”

“Gosh, me too,” Bee said. “I’ve just been so busy with rehearsals, I’ve been meaning to call you.”

“Girl, no, I get it,” Staci said, brushing her off. “Believe me, this way was better. Did you know that Dieter Bravo himself called me? I had just about passed out when I answered the phone. I only picked it up because I thought it was my daughter’s school.”

Bee laughed. “I still kind of feel that way every time he looks at me.”

Staci elbowed Bee lightly in the side. “I knew I was right to switch filming rooms with you.”

“You definitely gave me a head start with him,” Bee joked.

“He would’ve fallen in love with you anyway,” Staci said. “I mean, look at you! Who even are you now? The Bee I knew was cute in her little chef outfit, but that does not even compare. You were born for Hollywood, Bee.”

Bee fought the urge to get misty-eyed. After the past weeks of rehearsal and her whirlwind casting, the dates with Dieter, and moving in with Claire, it was starting to really feel that way. She had been fully swept up in the world of Hollywood and accepted in just about every way. Critics online were looking forward to her performance despite never having seen her act before, and social media was buzzing with excitement for an Asian lead in a major Netflix original.

Bee had role models growing up, but she was quickly understanding that her success in this role was going to make or break her chances of becoming one of them. The thought planted nervous butterflies in her stomach.

Relax, she told herself. Enjoy this party, then worry about filming.

“Dieter said you guys were going to actual England to film?” Staci continued. “I’m so jealous. It’s going to be so beautiful this time of year.”

“Don’t be jealous. I’m so nervous,” Bee admitted. “I mean, it’s going to be beautiful, but I might throw up about it.”

Staci laughed and wrapped her in a hug. “When you get back from filming, we need to hang out. I want to bake with you just like old times.”

The tears came to her eyes now. There was no stopping them. “Okay, we will. I promise you.”

“Now, go find your man and thank him again,” Staci said, giving her a playful shove.

Bee rolled her eyes and said her goodbyes to Staci. She milled about the party, which seemed to be heading straight into a plated dinner. Bee recognized costars — including one that Claire seemed to be cozying up with at her table. She walked past the massive table of gifts and prayed that they weren’t all mostly from Dieter, but she didn’t want to check the tags in front of everyone.

By the time she circled back around the room to the empty seat, which had a small sign that said ‘Birthday Girl’ on the plate, Dieter was calling for everyone’s attention at the front of the room with a champagne glass in his hand.

“Everyone, if I could have your attention for just a few moments before dinner,” Dieter announced, bringing the room to a notable hush with just the power of his voice. “I just wanted to say a few things about our beloved birthday girl before we start dinner. As you might know, there are some of us who need to be on a flight early in the morning, and I’ve already gotten told off eight times about it this evening. So, though we have the best reason to party in the world, we can’t party for too long.”

There was a light “boo” that emitted from the audience, and Bee laughed because Staci was a likely culprit behind it.

“I know, I know, I’m wasting your drinking time, but I promise we'll all drink together at the end of this,” Dieter said in response to the boos.

“Not too late, though, Bridgerton cast!” Our director, Sammi, yelled up to the front of the room.

“What? I couldn’t hear you?” Dieter asked, cupping one hand to his ear and drinking champagne with the other hand.

The room erupted into laughs and claps, and Bee found herself giggling like a teen. He was such a performer. He could command a full room with just a silly birthday speech. Everyone here was eating right out of his hand, hanging on his every word, and waiting for what was going to come next.

And what came next made Bee cry. Not quite a little cry, not quite a big cry, but the tears rolled down her cheeks, and they took her makeup with it just the same.

Dieter talked about the first day they met at Disney and how she was shy, but there was something more under the surface. He talked about her dreams and how they were so stubbornly beating their way out of the cage she had put them in. He could see it even during their filming that she wanted something more.

And he talked about how much he admired her for finally having the courage to reach out and try.

“And this woman is so incredible that when she gave it a go, and she spun the Wheel of Fortune that is Hollywood, she won. For that, I admire Bee more than most in this world we live in,” Dieter said. “She is talented, witty, and brave. And I am lucky to know her.” He raised his glass. “To Bee, happy birthday.”

“Happy Birthday, Bee!” Claire yelled, clapping her hands and standing.

Dieter led the toast and then gestured to Bee. She didn’t want to speak, but after that incredible speech, she felt like she had to. He had just stopped short of publicly declaring his love for her, and she felt like the room was spinning already, but at the very least, she had to say thank you.

She stood, and the room grew even louder with its applause. With a slightly awkward bow, she started off her short speech.

“Thank you, guys. Thank you all for coming to my surprise party. Thank you, Dieter and anyone else who was involved in its planning. I really appreciate each and every one of you,” Bee said. “Thank you, it’s a pleasure to know all of you, and I’ve never had a birthday party before like this, but it’s honestly the best birthday ever.”

Bee’s friends and costars clapped for her, and she took a sip from her glass of champagne without signaling that this was a toast, but her friends, new and old, still followed along with her.

****

Bee was in a trance throughout the entire process of getting to the airport and through security. A hired car by Netflix brought Claire and Bee from the condo to LAX, but they quickly found Dieter and other cast members quickly in the line for security.

“Wait, I thought this airport was super busy,” Bee said. “How is it like dead, and we’re all the only ones here? I thought we were flying commercial.”

Claire and Dieter laughed and then caught themselves. Bee wasn’t familiar enough with LAX to know any different, but they were standing at the terminal away from their airport that was designed so that celebrities could safely make it through security without being bothered by adoring fans or crazy stalkers.

“Oh, wait, so then how do we get to the plane if we’re like over a mile away from the terminal we’re supposed to be at?” Bee asked. “That’s crazy. I mean, it’s cool, but it’s kind of crazy.”

“There will be a car that takes us there. It’s pretty cool,” Dieter said. He looked her up and down slightly. “Aren’t you warm in that hoodie?”

Bee blushed. “Um, yes, but I have heard that planes are really cold and that England will be cooler than here.”

“You could’ve packed it away,” Claire said, stepping forward in the security line. She started to remove her laptop and her shoes, and Bee’s eyes widened.

“Wait, what do I do?” Bee asked, trying not to panic.”What do I need to take out?”

A TSA officer stepped forward and smiled. “Not a problem, miss. I can help you. Do you have any liquids in here?”

Bee shook her head ‘no.’

“Any large electronic devices?”

Bee shook her head ‘no.’

“Okay, and no batteries, nothing that is going to explode?”

Bee shook her head ‘no.’

“You’re fine; you can walk through the scanner, and your bag will go through this machine here. And you can put your shoes back on, miss. You don’t need to take them off,” he said to Claire.

Dieter trailed behind them, removing a laptop, an iPad, and a bag full of mini beauty products, but Claire and Bee made it through security without a hitch. Bee thanked the TSA officer on the way out for helping her and not embarrassing her like Claire and Dieter had. She was mostly joking, but she was a little cranky that they were teasing her so early in the morning and on such little sleep.

Bee sat with Claire and another costar, Mia, on the bench outside of the security area.

Claire and Mia were deep in conversation, just like they had been at Bee’s party the night before. Mia was stunning, with light brown skin and thick dark hair that fell into perfect curls despite the fact that it was an ungodly early hour.

“Want to sit with me on the plane?” Dieter asked her when he made it through.

Claire and Mia were still chattering away, but Bee shot Claire a look to ask for permission, and Claire quickly nodded. From the looks of it, she would have preferred to sit with Mia anyway.

“Sure,” Bee said with a shrug, pretending like it meant less to her than it did. She felt like a kid in high school, playing too hard to get. Despite the fact that the two of them had been on dates and had experienced makeout sessions that would rival any romance book you’ve ever met– in the context of rehearsal, of course.

“Awesome, seat buddy,” Dieter said, but Bee’s focus was now on how Mia was brushing a stray piece of blonde hair away from Claire’s face. There was obviously something going on there, and Claire and Bee spent plenty of time together at their now-shared condo, but Claire had never mentioned any interest in Mia.

Bee tried her best not to feel any jealousy from Claire’s apparent secrecy. She was sure if she asked Claire about it, she would spill.

The four of them were ushered to a car outside of the private terminal by another security guard. They would be flying with two undercover bodyguards, it seemed. And the rest of the cast would be split up on other flights arriving in London later in the day.

Rather than boarding first to first class and allowing all of the flight to walk past them and snap pictures of them, the group would be boarding last, so they had time to kill while sitting in the private car on the tarmac.

It was loud, and Bee was getting nervous sitting around the sounds of loud airplane engines, especially the ones that were just above their heads. Claire was in the front seat, and Mia was in the seat next to Bee.

“Have you traveled a lot?” Dieter asked Bee, trying to distract her from her nerves.

Bee shook her head. “No, barely. The most I’ve done is really like here from the Bay.”

“Wow, okay, you’re in for a treat, then,” Dieter said with a smile. “This flight is long, but there are tons of snacks and movies.”

Bee opened her backpack between her knees excitedly. “Oh, I packed snacks, too. I was reading online about how sometimes the snacks aren’t great, so I got my own. Like these chips and this candy.” She held the bags up for Dieter to see.

“I picked my seat buddy well, it looks like,” Dieter said with an approving nod.

Bee grinned. “Thanks. I’m trying my best.”

Before too long, it was time to board the plane, and Bee watched in wonder as they wheeled gigantic stairs that attached to the plane.

“We have to climb those?” Bee asked.

“It’s not too bad,” Dieter said reassuringly. “I can go behind you, too, so if you fall, then we both go out.”

Bee grinned, and a security guard opened her door. She got out with her backpack and purse in her hands and stood back so that Mia and Claire could board the plane first. Climbing the stairs was actually not too scary, but it was loud, and the wind that swept her hair felt otherworldly.

She wavered on a step going up, caught up by the wind, but Dieter put a firm hand on the small of her back and shouted, “I’m right here!” over the rush of the wind. Those butterflies made an appearance again, but this time they were climbing up her throat. She felt giddy and a little unstable, like she was living in a dream that had gone on for too long. If it wasn’t for her vicelike grip on her bag and the handrail, she would have pinched herself to see if she would wake up.

They all boarded quickly and without any interruptions from fans. The others who were sitting in first class were ambivalent to the fact that there were now A-listers in their environment, granted there was a buffer with the plain clothes bodyguards on board. The bodyguards looked a little funny sitting in polo shirts and sunglasses on their way to London, but they were doing their best to blend in.

There was one flight attendant that was a little more eager about having Dieter Bravo on board than was professional, but Bee was too nervous to acknowledge it. She did make sure to commit the flight attendant to memory – blonde hair, heavy eyeliner.

Because they were the last to board, Bee didn’t have to spend too much time anticipating takeoff. The security briefing went quickly, and so did taxi-ing. Dieter had given her the window seat, but Bee insisted on keeping the window covering closed.

Throughout takeoff, Dieter kept her distracted by showing her some of the game options that he had downloaded on his iPad.

“You play Solitaire on the plane?” Bee asked, pointing to the icons. “And Sudoku? How old are you again?”

Dieter pursed his lips at her, a comeback stuck behind his lips. Instead, he formed his lips into a smile and rested his head back against the seat.

He looked happy, and Bee felt happy too.

Once they were in the air, sleep start to overcome her. Bee was so tired that her words started slurring as Dieter was talking to her. She leaned her head over, lids closing as sleep started to reach her. She hadn’t slept well in days, and with the combination of the rush to finish packing, the gorgeous surprise party that Dieter had thrown, and the nerves about flying and filming, she was exhausted.

Her head dropped as she fell asleep, and Dieter moved to catch it with his shoulder, gently guiding her cheek against his arm with his hand. Bee was only slightly aware of what she was doing, but he was so warm and so comfortable.

She slept like that for most of the flight, sleeping through the removal of the seatbelt sign, a patchy bit of turbulence that left people gasping, and the first two rounds of food and drink service.

Finally, when she woke up, Dieter prodded her and asked if she was hungry or thirsty.

“It’s the last time they’re coming around,” Dieter said apologetically. “I didn’t want to wake you up before, but you haven’t eaten or had anything to drink in 8 hours.”

“Mmm, it’s okay,” Bee said, sitting up and stretching. “I really slept for that long?”

“Like a baby,” Dieter said with a cheeky grin. He didn’t say anything, but Bee could sense that he was keeping something from her. From the looks of it, it looked embarrassing.

“Oh god, please tell me I didn’t snore,” Bee whined, throwing her head in her hands. “In front of all these people…no, I didn’t snore.”

“You did, but it was like a little snore,” Dieter explained, patting her on the shoulder.

“More of a kitten than like a big bear.” He demonstrated how she was snoring, closing his eyes and opening his mouth slightly, letting a fluttering of air out between his lips.

“So I was purring, not snoring,” Bee joked. “That’s not snoring. That’s just purring.”

“Sure, I’ll play into that delusion,” Dieter quipped. He looked over at the drink cart that was quickly approaching.

The flight attendant that Bee had noticed was overly interested in Dieter was pushing it. As she did, she pushed her chest out and pursed her lips, acting like she was the hottest girl in the world.

Bee had to applaud her bravery. She couldn’t blame the poor flight attendant. The girl couldn’t know that Dieter was with anyone anyway. Bee and Dieter were dating, but it was completely under wraps by the media. From what she had seen online, everyone thought they were just your typical romance costars getting to know each other.

“Anything to drink for you?” The flight attendant asked, looking directly at Dieter and ignoring Bee. “Coffee, tea, wine, Coke products, water?”

“I’ll have some water, please,” Bee requested, leaning over Dieter’s lap to make herself known. “With ice, if you can.”

“More wine for me?” Dieter asked. “Or have I met my limit?”

The flight attendant’s fair skin flushed deep red with Dieter’s question, and she looked as tongue-tied as Bee had been when she first met Dieter, too.

“Of course, you can have more wine,” she said quickly. “Of course.”

Part of Bee was jealous, but the other part wanted to laugh. It was clear that Dieter was turning up the charm to get what he wanted, and what he wanted was an extra glass of wine, not anything to do with the flight attendant.

She couldn’t be truly jealous when the competition was so low. Dieter fawned over her, despite the fact that their romance was new and budding. He was clearly all about her.

Bee drank her water and chatted with Dieter some more. He urged her to look out the window, but the prospect of flying over the ocean was too much for her to handle, so she left it closed.

They shared some of the snacks that Bee packed. Bee ate Sun Chips, and Dieter started on the candy, but when Bee noticed that Dieter had demolished the gummy bears, she immediately scolded him.

“I’m sorry,” Dieter said, putting his hands up in the air for added drama. “They fell into my mouth! They were upset with you for not eating them earlier, I think.”

“You ate them all in like two handfuls, Dieter,” Bee lamented, shaking the mostly empty bag. “There are two red ones, one orange one, and one green one left!”

“Would you rather I left a yellow one instead of two red ones?” Dieter asked. His smile was dangerous. With how close they were sitting, Bee was one impulsive thought away from kissing him in public.

Even though they were at the front of the plane, it still felt too close to the public for comfort. They weren’t ready for their relationship to be public.

“Um, kind of, yeah,” Bee joked. “I like to eat them in rainbow order. And sometimes I even make them smooch.” She picked up two red gummy bears and smooshed them together.

“No, that’s messed up, Bee,” Dieter protested, pawing at her arm to get her to stop. “They are clearly brother and sister.”

“Shit, you’re right,” Bee said. She swapped one of the red ones for an orange one.

Dieter laughed and covered his eyes with his hands. “I can’t with you, Bee. You are just too much.”

“You like me,” Bee said, rolling her eyes. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have picked me as your seat buddy.”

Dieter downed the rest of his wine and handed the empty glass to a flight attendant walking past. “What if I was in it for the gummy bears?”

“You weren’t,” Bee teased.

“What if I was?” He countered.

“You’re a dirty, rotten liar because you didn’t even know about the gummy bears until I showed you in the car,” Bee said. “You wanted to sit next to me because you like me.”

Dieter surrendered and leaned his head back against the seat. Suddenly, the plane jerked beneath them, causing Bee to squeak. Without thinking, she reached and grabbed Dieter’s hand, which had been resting on the armrest.

He squeezed her hand back. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just turbulence.”

“I know,” Bee said. “It just startled me.”

Dieter looked at her, his dark eyes holding an emotion that Bee could only recognize as lust. She couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky she was to be dating Dieter Bravo, but it was hard to hold back and not show affection in front of others.

Last night, after her surprise birthday party, they made out in Dieter’s car for twenty minutes – but now, just over twelve hours later, they had to be afraid to hold hands when sitting next to each other.

Bee could tell that this was going to get very old very quickly. There would be one day when they would need to reveal that they were together to the public, especially if their relationship was going to progress any further.

Bee knew as much from her time being just a fan of Dieter’s that the fans know where celebrities live. If they were ever to move in together or buy a property together, everyone would know that they were linked. And that’s if they even make it that long without being discovered in some other way. There are only so many restaurants that you can go to in Los Angeles where people won’t speak about who you’re attending with.

One day, the public would know that she was with Dieter Bravo, and she had to prepare herself for that day.

Shaking off the thought and unlacing her fingers from Dieter’s, she decided to be brave and open up the window shield to reveal the dusky night sky above England. The screen in front of her showed her that they were just off the coast and starting to make their way down toward the ground.

“So, what is the schedule from here?” Bee asked Dieter. “When we get to London, what comes next?”

“Well, it’s going to be pretty early in the morning, but we can’t head out to the English countryside until we meet up with the rest of the cast. Sammi and a few others are on a flight four or five hours after us, so we’ll all be staying in a hotel in London tonight,” Dieter explained.

“Right, I remember, and then we all go out and start filming,” Bee said, blowing a breath out of her mouth. “Are you nervous?”

Dieter laughed. “Not really. I’m more excited than anything.”

Claire leaned across the aisle to insert herself into their conversation. “So, does that meanthat we have the day to ourselves? We can do whatever we want?”

“I think so,” Dieter said. “I’m pretty sure the only call time we have is that we have to be ready at 6 am to head out to our filming location.”

“Sweet,” Claire said. “I was thinking we should go see a show. Mia’s never been, and neither has Bee.”

She mouthed something that Bee couldn’t understand, but Dieter leaned over and whispered it into her ear.

“The Globe,” he said. “The recreation of the original theater that Shakespeare’s plays were performed in. Do you want to go?”

“Yes, oh my gosh, of course,” Bee said. “Please, can we?”

Claire tapped away on her phone, seemingly looking for a schedule.

“Yes, okay, I’m figuring out how to arrange that now,” Claire said. “Sound like a plan?”

Dieter and Bee both nodded, and Dieter leaned over to whisper in Bee’s ear once more.

“You’re really cute when you’re excited. You know that, right?”

Bee blushed and leaned against him for the remainder of the flight. As the plane shook while they were descending, she stayed pressed against Dieter and tried her best to focus on the fun that they would have in London.

****

“I’m glad that I slept so much on the plane,” Bee said as she brushed through her hair. Claire and Bee were sharing a hotel room for the night. Dieter and Mia both got individual rooms, and Claire had plenty to say about that.

“Production can more than afford for us each to have our own rooms,” Claire had said once they were alone and Dieter and Mia were on their way to their rooms. “Just because Dieter and Mia are bigger names than us doesn’t mean we should have to share. You’re higher up than Mia on the payroll.”

“Maybe they just know we’re friends,” Bee had said, trying to pacify her. “What? You don’t want to snuggle with me?”

“Not particularly,” Claire had joked. “You have cooties now.”

Now, the two of them were getting ready for their outing to Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre for an early afternoon performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Both of them had plenty of time to shower, grab breakfast from the hotel cafe, and do their makeup.

Claire looked stunning in a short white dress with a camel coat and tights underneath, while Bee was wearing an oversized jean jacket, a shimmery tank top, and black pants. She hadn’t been sure what to pack for England, especially since she had expected to spend most of the trip in corsets and costumes that pushed her boobs sky-high.

Otherwise, she wanted to be braless with a pair of sweatpants on. So, she prepared heavily for lounge clothes and messy buns outside of filming hours. This outfit and three others were her backups for outings.

“No, oh my god, anything but that tank top. We’ll just find time to shop,” Claire had said back in the condo after Bee had held up rejected item after rejected item for Claire to judge. “Or you can borrow shit from me.”

“Cute,” Claire said of Bee’s outfit today. “Very cute.”

“Thank you,” Bee said, grabbing her curling iron and starting to put a slight beachy wave into her hair. As much as she hated the primping and lengthy getting-ready times, they were necessary now that she was in the spotlight. “I’m learning from the best, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Claire joked, joining her in the bathroom and starting on her own hair.

“So,” Bee started, giving Claire a sneaky look. “What’s the news with you and Mia?”

Claire sighed. “Other than her getting her own room? That bitch, I still can’t believe we didn’t get our own rooms. That makes me so angry. The inequality in Hollywood is still so bad.”

Bee rolled her eyes. “Duh, you guys seemed cozy last night and on the plane.”

“I think she’s hot, and she thinks I’m hot, I guess,” Claire said with a shrug. “I don’t know, I think I’ve always been bi, but I’ve never been with a woman before, so it feels very new. Don’t say anything to anyone.”

“I have no reason to say anything to anyone,” Bee said, making a zipper motion over her lips. “I’m just here to support you and cheer you on.”

Claire grinned at her. “ I never even date, this is so out of character for me, but I think I really like her. I think I want to date her, but we’ll see how complicated things get with filming and everything. I might just not even have the time.”

Bee frowned. She hoped that she still had time to date Dieter despite their intense filming commitments. It would really suck to lose the incredible momentum that they had been building up.

“Well, whatever you decide, you better spill. I don’t like being kept in the dark,” Bee said. She put on a goofy Southern accent. “I support you no matter what. You’re still my daughter, even if you’re gay.”

Claire snorted and pointed at Bee with her hot curling iron. “I’m going to whack you with this.”

“Don’t you dare,” Bee said, holding up her own curling iron in defense. “Let’s leave the sword fighting to Shakespeare, please.”

****

The group took a private car to Shakespeare’s Globe, flanked by security guards in plainclothes. The addition of security was something that Bee had not experienced while in L.A., but outside of the City of Angels, it was apparently a necessity. They sat in the middle level of the open-air theatre, and all four of them wore sunglasses to help blend in a little bit more.

Bee had always wondered why celebrities wore sunglasses so much, but now it was clear. The sunglasses took away so much from Dieter’s face. Masking his dreamy eyes from view was one of the world’s worst sins. But still, she sat happily in the historical theatre and watched the show.

Dieter looked good and smelled good. She had never seen him before wearing layers, but today he wore a knit sweater in response to the chilly London air. His cologne was thick in the air, and without anyone sitting in the row behind them, she felt safe enough to cozy up to him.

Bee was slightly jealous of those in the crowd that got to experience the true standing room-only experience of Shakespeare’s Globe, but with their celebrity, the safest seats were in the back on the risers.

The show was incredible, and throughout the performance, the sun started to come out and replaced grey London clouds with a gorgeous robin’s egg blue sky. It was the perfect day with the perfect man and her perfect best friend, too. The only thing missing was her dogs, but she knew that they were safe and happy back home and in good hands. Marshmallow and Fudgy would’ve handled the flight even more poorly than she had.

The thought alone made her laugh while the cast of the show was doing their final bows, and Dieter looked at her like she was slightly crazy. “What?”

“I was just thinking about Marshmallow and Fudgy on a plane. How do you think they would be?” Bee asked.

“Insane,” Dieter said, standing to join the crowd in the standing ovation. “We would need to take them to the vet and get them a little something something to get them through it.”

Bee blushed. “We would need to take them to the vet.” She repeated.

Dieter sat back down and looked a bit sheepish. The group would have to hang back and wait for the rest of the crowd to leave before they could more safely make their exit. “Well, yeah, I’ll be their father one day.”

“Better father than daddy,” Bee said with a laugh.

“Hey, no,” Claire said, snapping her fingers from next to Bee. “Bad, we don’t say that in public.”

Dieter opened his mouth, the ‘D’ sitting on his tongue as he threatened to say it. He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head and taunted Claire.

“That was out of context,” Bee explained. “I was telling him exactly that. We don’t say that in public, we don’t call ourselves that, we don’t do it ever.”

Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “You still said it, so you’re still in trouble. You’re no better than him.”

“What’s her punishment?” Dieter asked excitedly. “Do we have to take her to the London Eye?”

“Whoa, that’s not cool,” Mia butted in. “We don’t take advantage of each other’s worst fears. I’ve got your back, Bee.”

“Oh, heights aren’t my worst fear,” Bee said. “I’ll go on the London Eye. That’s the big Ferris wheel, right?”

Dieter nodded but looked slightly betrayed that he didn’t know what her worst fear was. Bee had the feeling that he would be asking that question later on in the day.

“Well, it’s only 2 p.m., so we still have plenty of time to kill. I suspect that Sammi wants us all to meet up for dinner, and that’s why she’s planned the flights this way, so we should be back by 6,” Claire said, turning into the master planner that she always was.

Dieter took a peek at his phone. “Did Sammi text you too, or are you a mind reader?”

“What?” Claire asked, pulling her own phone out. “No?”

“Sammi just texted, ‘Dinner at 6’,” Dieter announced. “So yeah, four hours almost exactly.”

“London Eye is a classic. We could also do like Westminster Abbey or Big Ben. We could even have them drive us around there, so we don’t have to get out of the car?” Claire offered. “Like a bus tour but without the bus?”

“Let’s do it all. I’m up for anything,” Bee said. “Now that the flying part is over, I’m so ready to explore. I want to see like all of it.”

Dieter smiled and pulled Bee into a side hug. Without the crowd, they could be like this with each other. Especially since Mia and Claire were likely linking up and the bodyguards signed an NDA, they could be unapologetically couple-y.

The group funneled out of Shakespeare’s Globe and into the private car. This time, Claire and Mia decided to take the second car that had before been carrying the bodyguards following behind them. Bee and Dieter canoodled in the backseat with a driver and one bodyguard in the front.

“So, Claire and Mia?” Dieter asked, tucking Bee’s hair behind her ear.

Bee sighed. Claire said not to tell anyone, but they were being so obvious in front of Dieter that she couldn’t lie to him without obviously lying. She should have specified with Claire before that Dieter was fair game. With how close of friends Claire and Dieter were, she could probably assume as much.

“I think so,” Bee said, settling for a half-lie, something just in the middle of the truth. “At the very least, they seem to be having fun.”

“It’s cute. I think they look good together,” Dieter said, wrapping his arm around Bee’s shoulders.

The car sped down the crowded London streets despite the congestion, bobbing and weaving through cars in search of the tourist destinations that Dieter and Bee wanted to see. Bee was distracted by the apparent skill of the driver and the physical proximity of Dieter’s body against hers.

“Do you think they think the same about us?” Bee asked.

“On your left, coming up will be Trafalgar Square,” the driver said, interrupting their conversation. “You can see those statues shortly. It’s a public area in Westminster that is very famous. The Square commemorates the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805.”

“Thank you,” Dieter said to the driver. “Um, yeah, I think they probably think we look pretty good together. I can’t imagine anyone saying that we don’t look good together.”

Bee smiled and tilted her chin up to kiss him on the lips. “Good, because I think we look good together.”

The car continued down the street, driving aggressively, cutting off a car that honked for what felt like a minute. Bee felt her face burning with the embarrassment of being in a car that was driving so horribly. The two of them shared a look about the driving, so she knew that Dieter was on the same page as her.

“This street is known as The Mall,” the driver explained. “At the end of it is Buckingham Palace. I’m not sure if the King is there at the moment, but you will be able to tell by the flag. If the Royal Standard is flying, the King is in London. If it’s the Union Jack, he is elsewhere.”

“Very cool,” Dieter said, but the tone of his voice didn’t sound like he thought it was interesting. Bee initially wrote it off as Dieter already knowing the information. After all, he had been to England before and probably had been to Buckingham Palace more times than most people.

Bee looked up at him and noticed that he was clenching his jaw hard. His arm around her felt protective, and there was something to him that Bee had never seen before. It looked like anger, but other than the bad driving, they were fine, and the driver was being perfectly pleasant.

“Fuck!” Dieter swore out of nowhere. He pulled Bee closer to him and braced himself, though. Bee hadn’t been looking at the road when it happened.

Two lanes merged into one, but their driver had not merged over. Instead, he remained in their lanes in the hopes of passing once more, and the car coming from the other direction hit them head-on. The seatbelt restricted around her, squeezing tight, and she screamed as the glass of the windshield shattered and crunched inward.

A piece of metal flew through it, narrowly missing Bee’s head as Dieter pulled her down onto his lap and shielded her with his body. The metal landed right where Mia would have been sitting if she and Claire hadn’t decided to split into two separate cars.

Bee felt like they were still moving, still colliding with the other car, but they weren’t. Her eyes were squeezed tight, face buried into Dieter’s knit sweater against his stomach.

“Bee, are you hurt?” Dieter asked.

The question brought the pain to the surface. Her ribs burned, but not too badly. They weren’t broken but certainly bruised. Fitting into corsets this week was going to be a pain.

“I’m okay,” she said. “That thing almost took my head off, though.”

“I know,” Dieter said with a shaky breath. “I know. Fuck, what the fuck? Are you guys okay?”

The two in the front seats didn’t respond to them, but the squeal of the emergency vehicle sirens did instead.

****

The English countryside was surprisingly free from the rainy days that Bee had half-prepared herself for. In fact, with the historical buildings that the cast found themselves staying in, she was often sweltering, even worse than she had been back in Los Angeles. Rooms were hard to come by, so Bee and Claire chose to room together, despite their budding romances with fellow cast members.

Claire insisted on leaving the small window open on the first night due to the heat. But after waking up to a dozen mosquito bites each and getting a thorough scolding from the on-set makeup artist, they had to suffer through the night with stuffy air and scratchy, “period-appropriate” bedding.

To put it simply, Bee was completely and totally miserable. The filming schedule necessitated twelve-hour days at minimum, and her free time was filled with running lines and studying the next scenes. Then, her nights were mostly sleepless, tossing and turning and sighing and sweating.

They tried everything to combat it. From ice packs to fans with portable battery packs to wet towels that only served to dampen their bedding and make the room start to smell moldy.

Eventually, Claire and Bee both decided to embrace the heat’s misery and stay up late practicing scenes and chatting about their days until they fell asleep, still half-sitting up.

Bee was still using Icy Hot patches to help alleviate the pain in her rib cage from the car accident. She had never gotten to see Buckingham Palace without the wail of emergency services sirens and the rapid-fire accented questioning from the British police force.

“What was your favorite part of today?” Claire asked her, fanning herself with a folded-up piece of paper. “Besides the unrelenting heat, of course.”

“Oh God, besides the unrelenting heat?” Bee teased. “I don’t know, I think the heat was probably my favorite part of today, per usual.”

“And the rib pain, right? The broken ribs and corsets? The constant filming and few breaks?” Claire listed the items on her fingers as she spoke.

Bee laughed and mopped sweat away from her brow with her damp towel. “You are making it really hard to choose between all of these attractive options.”

“I know, right?” Claire asked. “It’s really tough out here. England sucks.”

“Um, if I had to choose, I guess I would say the bee that stung me in the middle of filming that garden scene,” Bee said. “That was the real icing on the top of the cake today.”

“Mine was the nip slip in the third scene of the day. The fact that I didn’t even feel it,” Claire laughed. “How did I not know my entire nipple was out?”

Bee snorted. “I don’t know, but the look on Dieter’s face when he noticed was priceless. I would pay for that footage.”

“Of my nipple?” Claire asked, her blonde eyebrow raised. “You want the footage of my nip slip?”

“No!” Bee almost yelled. “No, the footage of Dieter’s face. He looked so ashamed but responsible for having to say something. He couldn’t just let it continue without making sure it was taken care of.”

“Well, yeah,” Claire said. “Would you have rather he said nothing and just left me to get made fun of?”

Bee felt the familiar rush of annoyance crawl up her neck. She had felt the same sting several times just today, a result of working so hard on too little sleep in such shitty conditions.

She stopped before snapping at Claire and took a deep breath to steady herself, in through her nose and out through her mouth.

Everyone was too on top of her lately, and even when they were just joking around, some things felt deeply personal for no reason. She was starting to understand why actors loved acting but hated being an actor, despite her best efforts to keep her chin up and grin and bear it.

“No,” Bee said finally, cutting the edge out of her voice. She wouldn't snap at her friends or at Dieter, though it was starting to get difficult.

“Are you ready for bed?” Claire asked, sensing that there was some tension starting to form. Her hand reached toward the lamp next to her bed, hovering just over the knob.

“If you are,” Bee sighed. “I’m too hot to get comfortable still. I might get up and wander a bit if you go to bed.”

“Sure,” Claire said. “I think I’m going to try to get some sleep, at least.”

Bee nodded and bid Claire goodnight. She untucked herself from her bed and slipped on the pair of slippers she had been gifted when she arrived at the stuffy countryside resort. Setting her sights on Dieter’s room, she made sure to tussle and adjust her hair and check to see that her sleep shorts weren’t riding up.

After deciding that she looked as good enough as she could with the deep circles around her eyes and the knots in her hair that she didn’t want to take the time to brush out.

Padding down the hallway, Bee tried her best to shake off the events of the day. Filming this show was not turning out to be what Bee had expected from her first big role or any big role. It was frustrating, miserable, and exhausting. And despite how hard she worked and how well she performed in each scene, there was seemingly no relief.

The sunny days were the ones that the production company wanted — so they couldn’t break from filming before they got a rainy day. Even then, the schedule wasn’t clear if they would settle down on rainy days or just shoot more indoor scenes. If it was cooler, they wouldn’t have to run as many fans, or so they said.

It was starting to feel like they just wanted to make money at any cost, no matter how worn down their actors became. The only person who seemed unaffected was Dieter, though. He had been babied by the production team, to be frank.

Claire was letting it get to her, to the point where she was starting to make comments about how Hollywood’s inequality hadn’t changed since she was a leading lady all those years ago.

Bee tried her best to ignore it, but it was difficult to reconcile the way her best friend was feeling and the way her boyfriend was feeling with the way that she was feeling, too. Bee was taking the “mind over matter” approach and ignoring it, while Claire was ruthless, and Dieter felt deeply guilty.

Approaching Dieter’s suite, Bee gently rapped her knuckles on the wooden door to avoid waking up anyone else on the floor. If they actually were asleep, that is. How anyone was getting good rest in these conditions was a mystery to her.

She knew he was awake. He had been active on Instagram just moments ago while she was doom-scrolling in bed.

Dieter answered quickly and pulled her into his room by her waist. “Hey, you,” he said, tilting his head down for a kiss. “I missed you today.”

Bee grinned into the kiss. She missed him too. Today was spent on scenes that mostly occurred before their characters met in the show, filming backstory and filler scenes. Aside from the brief nip slip incident, her day had been Dieter-free.

The break in seeing one another had helped Claire to cool off a little bit, though. Bee hadn’t been subject to her daily 20+ minute rant on the unfair treatment of women in Hollywood.

“I missed you, too,” Bee said, unraveling herself from him. As much as she wanted to be in his arms, the sticky sweat that clung to her arms was pressing uncomfortably to his clothes.

“Your room is so much cooler than ours.”

“It’s still fucking hot, too,” Dieter frowned. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you two want to switch for the night? I know Claire’s been pissed about the way you guys are getting treated.”

No, Bee thought. But also, yes.

It was hard to tell if Claire would be happy to sleep in a nicer room or angry that there was a temperature difference.

Bee sighed. “It’s really okay. I don’t think you need to worry about it.”

“I just feel really bad. I know what’s going on, I can see the discrimination, but every time I say something, it’s in one ear and out the other,” Dieter said. “It’s pissing me off too.”

Bee shrugged and sat on Dieter’s bed. King-size, not two full beds like Claire and Bee’s room.

“Can I be honest with you for a minute?” Bee asked. “Like really honest, don’t tell Claire, honest.”

Dieter nodded and moved to join her on the end of the bed. “Sure, I’m always here to listen to you.”

The line between his brows deepened, and he reached for her hand to hold it while they sat. Bee tried not to laugh at how quickly it seemed that he was worried he was the problem. As if he could ever be. Dieter was nothing but sweet and understanding, a little crass at times, but when it came to the people he cared about, he cared deeply.

“Okay,” Bee said. “It’s just that, like…okay, Claire is white.”

Dieter was silent for a moment, and then he laughed. “Yeah, Claire is white,” Dieter agreed. “What do you mean by that?”

“I just mean,” Bee trailed off. Why was this so hard to get across? She would blame her addled brain for the heat or the exhaustion. But the real enemy was likely just her consistent inability to voice her frustrations with other people.

“You can tell me,” Dieter said. “I’m here to listen. I want to know what’s going on.”

Bee smiled and rubbed her thumb on the back of Dieter’s hand. “I keep getting frustrated with Claire because I’m trying to ignore the problems that are going on. I’m used to being treated differently because of who I am. I’m an Asian woman. I’m the daughter of immigrants, like…things have been bad for me before.”

Dieter nodded. “I totally can see that.”

“Yeah,” Bee said. “So, I’m trying to keep moving forward and do my job, but it’s like constantly complaining about something that – let’s be real, it happens.”

Dieter squeezed her hand. “But it doesn’t have to happen, and it shouldn’t happen. Claire is trying to reconcile that, but she’s doing it in a way that’s hurting you. Ultimately, it’s up to me, though. It’s my responsibility to advocate for both of you and make sure that you are both getting treated the same, getting paid the same, and everything.”

Bee frowned. “But it’s not your fault. You’re not the source of the problem.”

“Right, but I’m the one being treated better. So, I see it as a me thing. And I should’ve been better prepared for it. I had to pull teeth to make sure your contract was the way it was,”

Dieter said. “I should be doing better at making sure they aren’t treating you and Claire unfairly.”

“No,” Bee protested. “That’s not even what I’m trying to say. I see what you’ve been doing and the conversations you’ve been having with the producers to try to fix it. I’m just saying, I don’t think Claire gets why I don’t want to hear her complain anymore.”

Dieter was quiet for a moment, and Bee let him think over what she was trying to get at. Part of her was surprised that he had even let her get this far. Her exes both would have shut her down and told her she wasn’t being fun way before this point.

“I understand why you’re frustrated,” he said finally. “I feel bad that you’re in this position, but I know that it’s not being helped by Claire’s feelings.”

“Yeah,” Bee said. That was it. That was exactly what she needed.

How on earth was this man this hot, this caring, and this good at talking to women?

“I’m going to talk to production again, though,” Dieter said, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I know we’re moving locations soon, but they really need to fix your rooms and break schedule. It’s not okay.”

Bee leaned into him and sighed. He still smelled so good, despite the sweat and the long day of work outside in the hot summer sun.

“Thank you, Dieter,” Bee said, tilting her head onto his shoulder. “You’re really just a dream come true.”

He squeezed her hand. “I shouldn’t be. I’m actually doing the bare minimum.”

Bee laughed through her nose. “Well, in that case, I guess not many people have actually done the bare minimum for me in my life, so it’s still very much appreciated. Also, the bare minimum can be hard! Give yourself some credit.”

Dieter chuckled, his shoulders moving made Bee’s head bounce. “Oh, just you wait. I’ll be so annoying once I actually pull this off and get my way with production.”

****

Bee couldn’t remember what time she tiptoed back to her and Claire’s shared room, but the amount of sleep that she had successfully gotten was negligible, to say the least. Her eyes felt puffy and raw, and the sweat refused to part from her skin.

She was up before most of the cast to try to sneak a shower in before she had to be at hair and makeup just after sunrise. Her trailer was located far from the “hotel” that the cast was staying at, but even though it was just a trailer, its plumbing was far superior to the conditions they were in. The one downside was that she couldn’t just leave it running all night and sleep in air-conditioned peace.

A crew member let her into her trailer and greeted her with a smile. “Good morning,” she said with a smile.

Bee resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Even the grew looked just as exhausted as she was. How did Netflix expect this show to be any good when they were actively torturing their cast and crew?

“Good morning,” Bee said to the crew member. “I hope you figured out a way to get some sleep.”

“I haven’t yet,” the crew member said, tucking away the keys to the trailer into her back pocket. “But there you go. I hope you have a nice shower and a nice nap.”

“Thank you,” Bee said. She looked at the crew member who had been stationed here each morning and had accordingly helped her get a couple of hours of relief before filming the past couple of days. “Hey, I feel like an asshole. I haven’t been able to catch your name yet. What was it?”

The crew member’s eyes widened as no one had yet asked her that question. She was American, from her accent, and had clearly been brought here by production because of her skill set.

“Jaina,” the girl said. “And it’s really no problem. I know that none of you are getting any sleep up at that house. I heard the higher-ups joking about how they’re going to have to use CGI to get rid of your eyebags, and it really pissed me off. I can be here earlier tomorrow to let you in if you want me to.”

Bee frowned. Were her eyebags really that bad?

Probably. But she didn’t want to get more sleep at the expense of this other human being who had to stand guard of the trailers anyway. That wasn’t very fair.

“No, it’s okay. I think me coming here this early is already pushing it, and I don’t want to get either of us in any trouble. Thank you, though, Jaina. I really appreciate it,” Bee said.

“Well, here,” Jaina said, handing her the key to her trailer on a spiral bracelet. “At least take your key. You can come down early if you want to tomorrow; just be sure to lock up tonight after we finish filming.”

Bee looked at the key in her hand and shrugged. It sounded reasonable enough. It was her trailer with her name on it, and she wouldn’t leave it running all night.

“Thank you,” she said again, turning the key in the lock on the door and opening the door to her trailer. The air-conditioned inside blasted her in the face, and she sighed in relief.

It wasn’t very hot outside this early in the morning, with the sun not yet high in the sky, but it wasn’t that cool either. This feeling, though, was instant relief, goosebumps on her skin and a slight chatter to her teeth.

She let the trailer door close behind her and rushed to the tiny bathroom at the back of it, peeling away sweat-drenched clothes from her body. Bee usually hated showering. She didn’t like the concept of a shower, more like. Once she was in the water, she was fine, but if you asked her if she ever wanted to go from being dry to being damp, the answer was almost always going to be no.

Now, taking a cold shower first thing in the morning was her only saving grace, and she had hair and makeup artists to fix the damp tangle of dark hair that happened as a result.

Preparing for her day, she quickly showered, rinsing the day before off of her skin and trying to start anew as best as she could.

Then, she set an alarm on her phone and crashed on the small sofa bed in the middle of her trailer as the sun came up.

****

There was someone knocking on her trailer door, painfully loud. So hard that the trailer itself was moving beneath the force of the knocks, startling Bee awake. She gasped and sat up from the small pile of thin blankets she had haphazardly thrown over herself before passing out on the sofa bed. Wet hair clung to her face, and she quickly peeled it away.

“Hello?” Bee called out.

“Are you sure we don’t have a second key to this trailer?” someone asked from outside.

“Why was the key given to her anyway? The actors should never, ever have the keys to their own trailer. Who was watching the trailers again?” another voice asked. It was deeper, a man’s voice for sure.

“It was Jaina. She’s been watching them all this week,” the other person answered.

Someone jiggled the handle of the door violently as Bee approached the door, startling her again. She placed both feet on the ground and tried her best to orient herself quickly before walking over to the door, waiting just on the other side of it.

“Bee, wake up! You are late to hair and makeup!” the second voice yelled, pounding on the door again.

Oh my God, they could’ve just said that the first time and she would’ve been up in a flash. Bee took a deep breath before she opened the door.

Standing before her were two of the producers on the British side, which explained the accents that Bee didn’t quite understand when she had first woken up. One woman and one man, and she kept forgetting their names which didn’t make it better.

These two were especially dissatisfied with her work so far, always calling for corrections and trying to talk over Sammi when she was giving feedback after scenes to try to improve them.

“I’m so sorry,” Bee said. “I just need to get my shoes, and then I’ll run to hair and makeup.”

“It’s too late now,” the woman said. “We’ve already had to move the production schedule around to accommodate for your selfishness. You’ll need to be at hair and makeup now, though, to make up for it.”

Isn’t that just what I said I would be doing? Bee asked herself, but instead of responding with sass, she just smiled.

“Thank you so much. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again! I will be there as soon as possible.” Bee said, and then she closed the door right in their faces.

If they had already changed the schedule to accommodate her mistake, then there was nothing more to be said about it. Bee slipped on her shoes and padded to the bathroom to make sure her hair wasn’t in too much of a sorry state before she saw the hair and makeup artist. She didn’t want to make their lives hell for her mistake.

When she exited the trailer to head to the hair and makeup trailer, though, the two producers were still waiting outside.

“We need your phone,” the man said as Bee locked the door.

“What?” Bee asked. “What do you need my phone for?”

“We’re doing a phone cleanse. You celebrities are always too attached to your devices, and so you stay up too late on social media. It’s messing this whole shoot up,” he said. “Hand it over.”

“I don’t remember seeing anywhere in my contract that this was a cellphone-free shoot,” Bee said firmly. “So, until I get instructions from Sammi, I’m keeping my personal property, thank you.”

She walked past them, fully ignoring them and fully aware of the consequences of doing so. Sammi would understand why she didn’t want to comply with their requests, but she wasn’t sure about the others. This set was full of executives with names she didn’t remember and authorities who decided to try to make themselves more important than the director at all times.

The hair and makeup trailer wasn’t too far from where she was, but the walk felt long with the knowledge that she had not only messed up the filming schedule this morning but she had been willfully disobedient to two of her superiors.

“Hi, Bee!” one of the makeup artists said with a wave. Her name was Lily, and she was incredibly kind.

Bee sighed in relief. One of the best aspects of this job was the support staff. They were unfailing in their kindness and generosity, and it made it easy to follow through with the promise she had made herself to be nice to all of the staff that helped her throughout the process.

Everyone except for the snobby executives that seemed hellbent on making her life miserable.

“Claire and Dieter are working together on set this morning already,” the other makeup artist on the job this morning said. Bee didn’t know her as well, but she was just as kind. “I heard you might have slept in.”

Bee frowned, sticking her bottom lip out dramatically. “Yeah, my stupid alarm didn’t go off. I was taking a nap if you’ll believe it.”

“Oh, I believe it,” Lily said. “The place we’re staying at is just up the road, but they say the heat is just as bad as the main house. I think I sweated off my eyeliner three times this morning before I finally just redid it here at the trailer.”

The three women laughed together, which was better than crying about it, in Bee’s opinion. All they could do was laugh until they moved location, at least. There was also the cast and crew outing scheduled at the end of the filming week. A trip to Kenilworth Castle, which was supposed to be “very romantic,” according to Dieter.

“Same glam today?” Bee asked Lily, who was deciding which brush to start with.

“Same glam, always. We’re going to get you looking stunning, and then Isabella will fix up this wet mop,” Lily said, playing with Bee’s hair as she spoke.

Bee flushed scarlet. “Please, you can’t blame me for showering and going back to bed. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Lily laughed. “Girl, I don’t blame you, but Isabella probably does. Now, let’s get started on this face.”

****

Filming was better today than it had been yesterday. Whenever Bee filmed directly with Dieter, the production team was way better about allowing them to go sit and rest in their trailers to cool off. They filmed a scene outside where Bee and Dieter were on an unchaperoned (scandalous!) stroll through the gardens, in which Bee nearly sweated off all of Lily’s handiwork from this morning.

Production assistants were sent running back and forth to pat her upper lip dry in between takes. Who knew an upper lip could be so sweaty? It didn’t help that they were doing so right in front of Dieter, who couldn’t help but giggle at Bee’s embarrassment.

“Oh my gosh, Dieter,” Bee said finally, half-joking in between a take. “Can you stop laughing at my sweaty upper lip? I’m not rich enough to get my sweat glands removed. Sue me.”

Dieter only laughed harder. “I don’t even think bigger actresses can get their sweat glands removed. Is that a thing?”

“Oh, so they just naturally don’t sweat? Is that what you’re trying to say?” Bee teased.

“Sorry, I have bad genetics.”

Dieter frowned. “You don’t have bad genetics. You have great genetics.”

“Sweaty genetics,” Bee countered.

Dieter leaned closer to her, bringing his voice down to just above a whisper. “Hot genetics.”

“Don’t use the word ‘hot’ right now,” Bee laughed. “Can’t I have cold genetics instead?”

Dieter shrugged and accepted a cold water bottle from a PA. He handed it directly to Bee and waited patiently for another PA to bring him his own.

Bee thanked him and chugged the water bottle, not caring that she was going to have to pee at some point with this hulking costume on. She was more than used to having three production assistants help her get onto a toilet at this point. She would have no problem someday on her wedding day doing the same.

After Dieter finished his water bottle, he collected Bee’s trash and walked it back over to the canopy that the director and PAs stood beneath. Bee eyed them jealously. They had the benefit of shade while her dark hair roasted mercilessly underneath the summer sun.

But together, Bee and Dieter finished the scene to Sammi’s liking, and they were able to move to have a break from the heat.

The next item on the agenda was a full cast and crew meeting, then a break for lunch, and then a full ballroom scene that required almost all of them to gather inside in the cramped ballroom to accomplish.

No fans, of course. It would be too loud in the room with a bunch of fans blowing air around to generate airflow. Bee was not excited, to say the least. But after today, they would only have two more days at this location, which meant (hopefully) only two more days of apparent misery. She had high hopes that the next location would have better accommodations. There had been endless complaining from the cast, and she doubted that the director or producers were getting productive sleep either.

“Want to come back to my trailer?” Dieter asked, linking pinkies with Bee as they walked along the stone path to get to their respective trailers. Dieter held a black umbrella above Bee’s head to shield her from the sun, finally giving her some relief. It was a wonder that her scalp hadn’t started to peel away.

“Sure,” Bee said with a grin.

Dieter smiled at her. “You look happy to keep me company."

Bee shrugged and pretended like she wasn’t being suffocated by the butterflies in her stomach. “There are better snacks there.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dieter laughed. “I’m sure it’s just the snacks and not your incredibly handsome boyfriend that you’re so into.”

Bee raised her eyebrows and unlinked their pinkies. “Are you trying to gaslight me into liking you more than I like Cheetos?”

Dieter’s face fell, and he quickly looked concerned. “What? No?”

“I was joking,” Bee said, quickly linking her pinky with his once more. “But I’m serious about the Cheetos. You have Cheetos in your trailer, and last I checked, they hadn’t given any to me even though I’ve asked twice.”

Dieter pulled his hand away from hers and instead wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as they walked together, and he shielded her from the sun.

“I’m going to make sure you have Cheetos, Bee,” he promised. “If it’s the last thing I do. You will eat Cheetos in your Victorian garb.”

“Can’t I just steal the ones from your trailer?” Bee asked. “I don’t think you even eat them.”

“Well, now that I think about it,” Dieter smiled mischievously. “If I make sure you have Cheetos in your trailer, why would you ever visit me?”

“I have a pretty big appetite for snacks,” Bee countered. “I would come by anyway.”

“But you would eat the ones in your trailer first,” Dieter pointed out. “So, then, I would be an afterthought. Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. I’m keeping the monopoly on Cheetos.”

Bee’s mouth fell open. “You are not.”

“I am. I’m the King of Cheetos now.”

“You’ve been the King of Cheetos. That’s the whole problem. There is Cheeto inequality in our relationship,” Bee complained. “Withholding Cheetos should be a federal crime.”

“Maybe. Maybe it should be a federal crime,” Dieter agreed. “If only we were on U.S. soil. I don’t think the feds have jurisdiction here.”

“Ugh,” Bee complained as Dieter opened the door to his trailer. “This is so unfair.”

Dieter laughed. “Of all of the unfair things that have happened during this production, the Cheetos are the worst offense?”

Bee nodded and sat at the table in Dieter’s trailer. She sighed and kicked off her shoes, grateful for the bliss of the air conditioning.

“It’s pretty criminal,” she said. “At least, it feels that way. Or maybe I’m just worn down by the heat and the sleep deprivation and the bugs.”

“The bugs?” Dieter asked, grabbing a small bag of Cheetos and walking back over toward Bee. “What bugs?”

Bee lowered her dress to the shoulder to show him the red splotchy mark from the bee sting she had gotten yesterday.

“Oh,” Dieter said. “I forgot about that. It kind of looks like a zit? Are you sure that’s a bee sting?”

Bee rolled her eyes and laughed. She knew he was being silly, but he was really testing her patience today. “That’s really helpful, Dieter.”

“Sorry,” he laughed, handing over the bag of snacks. “Maybe this will make up for it.”

He leaned down to kiss her on the lips, and she tilted her chin up to complete the smooch.

“Thanks,” she said. “It does.”

****

The all-cast, all-crew meeting was blistering, hot, and stuffy. They were in the ballroom set, where most of them would need to film right after lunch. It was gorgeous, despite the sweltering heat. The ceiling was painted delicately with ornate designs. The floor had been polished and was beautiful marble. Though the room was filled with people that were in modern clothes and historical pieces, the room felt like stepping back in time.

There were flowers everywhere that PAs were desperately guiding people away from.

“If you crush these hydrangeas, I’m taking them out of your paycheck,” the snobby female producer snapped at someone toward the back. “Everyone stay away from the flowers, so help me, God.”

Claire was there, looking more annoyed than ever. Her hair was in her character’s classic, intricate updo instead of down and straight, but Bee still found her in the crowd and notched her body between Claire and Dieter in the row of the main cast of the show.

“Bad day?” Bee asked her. “You look upset.”

“So bad,” Claire said, flexing her jaw. “I know what this announcement is about, too, and I’m pissed. You’re going to be pissed, too. I’m going to contact the production company as soon as possible. This is getting ridiculous.”

Bee nodded. “Okay.”

There wasn’t much more that she could say. She didn’t want to hear the rest of Claire’s frustrations, and she didn’t want to get too riled up about what was to come. At this point, though she was frustrated, she was kind of numb to the mistreatment.

If this was so ridiculous that things needed to be reported to higher-ups and rectified, then Bee would have no problem on any other set. In that way, Bee was kind of grateful that her first shooting experience was so miserable. Everything else she would work on would just be that much easier.

Or was that toxic positivity?

She was too tired to really care either way.

“Do we have everyone here?” Sammi asked from the front of the room. She held a microphone in her hand and stood on top of a chair. “Well, if anyone is not here, then spread the word to them if you see them.”

Dieter elbowed Bee softly in the side. “What do you think this is about?”

Bee shrugged. “I don’t know. But according to Claire, we’re not going to like it.”

“You’re not,” Claire said. “You’re really not.”

Sammi tapped on the mic, trying to get everyone’s attention. Bee, Claire, and Dieter were all guilty of contributing to the noise in the room, but there were others at the back who were being even louder than them. A hush fell over the room in response to Sammi’s tapping and the feedback that squeaked from her doing so.

“Okay, listen up. I’m just going to start,” Sammi said. “We are making some changes to start working on this set more seriously. We’ve had numerous problems with people not showing up to call times on time, issues with people being overtired, and of course, we’ve had problems with this location.”

“Duh,” Claire said bitterly from Bee’s right. “You could say that again.”

“I know that it’s been hot, and I know that the building will not get cooler,” Sammi continued. “There is nothing that we can do. The more time that you spend complaining to production staff, the more you delay production. Some cast and crew members have been especially rude when making their complaints, and it is unacceptable. If you want to make complaints about treatment on set, heat, rain, water, alligators, and tornadoes, I do not want my producers to have to deal with them anymore. You can submit them in written form only from now on.”

Bee rolled her eyes. She had already been silently suffering, and she knew that some people were complaining more than others, but silencing the cast seemed a little excessive. Bee wasn’t sure if it was confirmation bias or not, but it seemed like this speech was mostly directed at Claire and Dieter for trying to make serious changes around the set.

It was necessary, though…Claire was right that Bee wasn’t going to like these announcements.

“To try to stop this from occurring and to reduce the frequency of this kind of mean girl behavior that we’re seeing, we are going to be shifting to a “No Devices” set. After this meeting, we will be collecting all electronic devices from the cast and crew. If you have a company phone, you may keep it, but all of your rooms have alarm clocks, and your loved ones should expect you to be in parts of the country without cell service as is.”

Surprisingly, the room was silent. There wasn’t a chattering of voices, shocked and upset like Bee would have expected. Instead, everyone just silently, angrily accepted their fates. Bee had a feeling that they were moving to no phones in direct response to her being late, and the guilt of her assumed responsibility sat on her chest heavily.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath. Those two producers had asked for her phone this morning, and she refused. She bet that they had gone directly to Sammi to suggest this as an option.

She couldn’t tell Claire. Claire would make this so much worse.

“We’ve heard reports that people are using their phones to talk negatively about the production, to rile each other up, and we think that it’s making the mentality of our cast and crew more negative. Also, we have reason to suspect that people are staying up late on devices, and that is contributing to the sleepiness factor that we’re having on set. We have out used our budget that we set aside for coffee and energy drinks by double what we were expecting if you are more of a data-minded person,” Sammi explained. “So, yeah. No more phones. No more complaining. No more secret rendezvous and bitching sessions. We are all here to work, and we expect you to stay focused on your work. We’re also going to implement a No Visiting rule. You are to sleep in your assigned rooms, go to your assigned trailers for breaks, and spend free time anywhere on the grounds that you wish, but not in each other’s rooms.”

“When did this turn into a bad summer camp?” Dieter asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well,” Bee sighed. “I guess no more Cheetos on break for me.”

“I’m going to submit a complaint in writing to get you Cheetos in your trailer, don’t worry,” Dieter promised.

****

Things got weird from that terrible meeting. With Bee and Dieter only really having time to communicate as their characters in fake English accents, their relationship’s progress started to cool. Though the heat persisted, only broken up by a single day of rain, Sammi had been right that taking away their phones and separating cast members from one another had seemed to lighten the mood in a weird way.

Even though she and Claire shared a room, it seemed like whoever Claire had been talking to no longer had access to her. Bee was oddly suspicious that Claire’s new romantic interest was the source of all of the sudden negativity, but she didn’t say anything about it.

It was unfortunate timing for her and Dieter to not be able to spend much time together, but Bee kind of welcomed the silence. She was able to focus on her work and on perfecting her scenes. Now that there were limited distractions, she felt like a real actress, and other people started to treat her that way.

On the last day of filming at the “Hotel Hell,” location as Bee had started to call it, Sammi and the other producers pulled her aside to compliment her for her resilience and the quality of her work. That conversation made everything so much more worth it, and Bee was looking forward to continuing to work on the show.

They just had one more night to stay at the sweaty location before they would all travel to the cast and crew castle excursion and then to the next location. Sammi clued her in that they had made sure there was air conditioning at the next place they would be staying, thank whatever power that be.

Bee stood with Dieter at the wrap-up cast and crew meeting, where Sammi announced that they would be returning phones to cast and crew members for the weekend and then taking them back when they arrived at the next location.

Dieter seemed relieved, but Bee honestly didn’t care.

Being so connected to the online world stressed her out, and she was happy to be free from her bad habit of doom-scrolling and comparing herself to others. She credited the lack of phone access to her newfound confidence and better focus on set.

“Are you excited to get your phone back?” Dieter asked. “It feels so weird to not scroll on TikTok at night.”

Bee shrugged. “I think they should take our phones away forever.”

“You can delete social media, you know,” Dieter said. “If you feel like you feel better without it, why not?”

Bee shrugged again. “I feel like I need it to stay relevant. I’m new to all of this, and I just started to get a following.”

Dieter placed a reassuring hand on her back. “You don’t need it. That’s what PR and headlines are for, and then you can just sit back and let the chaos happen and ignore it all.”

“That actually sounds pretty nice.”

Dieter laughed. “It was, but now I’ve let myself get sucked into it. I wish I could go back.”

“You could, too,” Bee said. “You could delete it with me. We could be social media-free together.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds scary,” Dieter said. “Like almost cultish.”

“The social media part is the cult,” Bee laughed. “That’s where the cult is.”

“Make sure that the phone you grab is the phone that belongs to you. If I catch anyonentrying to steal each other’s phone, I will be having a conversation with you,” Sammi said as the dreaded basket of phones started to travel around the room.

“She really sounds like a teacher now,” Claire said, appearing behind Bee. “I hate this. Sammi used to be fun.”

“She’s just doing her job,” Bee said. “It sucks, but I really liked the break.”

“Even from me?” Dieter asked, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

Bee smiled. “That was the one downside. I only ever got to talk to you when you sounded like a fancy English man.”

Dieter laughed. “Oh, so you don’t want me to talk in an English accent when we’re alone?”

“No, definitely not,” Bee laughed. “Not to be mean, but I could do with fewer English accents in my personal time.”

The phone basket got closer and closer to them, and Bee started feeling an intense dread in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want it. Who was going to contact her in a positive way?

The people she liked were both here. Her mom was so frequently stressful that she couldn’t really look forward to talking to her. Maybe Staci texted her? But Staci also knew she was busy. Then, she suddenly got very anxious. She had forgotten about Fudgy and Marshmallow.What if there was an emergency with them, and she didn’t even know?

Now she needed her phone immediately in order to confirm that the fear was not true. She couldn’t handle something happening to her babies without her knowing.

“Here they come,” Claire said excitedly. “What if people think we’re all dead? That would be hilarious, like what a scandal.”

“People go dark on social media all the time,” Dieter protested. “The public probably just thinks we’re all filming the show that we said we were going to film.”

“True,” Claire said. “But wouldn’t it be funny?”

Bee felt sick. She didn’t want to think about death, not after the negative thought she had about her sweet puppies back home in Los Angeles.

“Maybe,” Bee said weakly. “That could be funny.”

The basket traveled further along the row that they stood in. People were snatching in the pit of the phone basket and eagerly grabbing their devices, turning them on, and quickly tapping with their fingers.

“Here they come!” Claire said, bouncing up and down on her feet. The basket was just two people away now.

“Isn’t it gross putting all of these phones in the same basket? People use their phone for TikTok on the toilet all the time,” Dieter said. “We’re all going to need to sanitize.”

“Yeah, just don’t touch your face. I have sanitizing wipes in my bag back in the room,” Claire agreed, reaching for the basket of smartphones. “Yay! This one’s mine!”

Bee spotted her phone case easily in the basket, and she reached in and grabbed hers from the pile before passing it over to Dieter. She held down the button on the side to turn it on. Her original plan was to leave it off as long as she could, but now when she was worrying about her dogs, she had to see what was going on. Dieter grabbed his phone and turned it on, too. Bee stood and watched as the screen slowly lit up and came back to life.

“Oh my god, Bee and Dieter, so scandalous,” someone said from behind them. The supposed-to-be whisper carried over the hushed conversations that broke out as soon as phones were back in the possession of their rightful owners.

“What?” Bee asked. “What is scandalous?”

Claire’s phone was already alive and well, and her Instagram app was open. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.

“Oops,” Claire said.

“What?” Dieter asked. “What happened?”

“You guys weren’t careful in London,” Claire said, sucking her teeth. “I don’t blame you, but holy shit. This is not what you two wanted.”

“Just show me,” Bee said, desperately trying to see what was on Claire’s phone. “Quit being so cryptic. You’re making me nervous.”

Bee was still waiting for her phone to start up fully. It was still searching for the wifi, and the apps were still trying to come to life.

Claire turned her phone screen toward Bee and smirked. There was a photo of Bee and Dieter standing outside of the hired car that had crashed in front of Buckingham Palace. Bee was crying, wrapped up in Dieter’s arms as she gasped for air after having the wind crushed out of her by the sudden car crash.

It was a dramatic scene, and seeing how great Dieter was at comforting her in photo form was spoiled by the fact that it had been completely leaked to the media. One of the most vulnerable moments of her life was now publicly blasted for other people to see and dissect. The headline on the photograph was “DIETER BRAVO TANGLED WITH HOLLYWOOD NOBODY IN CAR CRASH THEIR MAKEOUT SESSION ALLEGEDLY CAUSED.”

“Oh my god,” Bee said. “Are you joking with me? The makeout session allegedly caused the car crash. Not the guy who was literally arrested for reckless endangerment for that accident. Me and my smoochable lips.”

“I mean, your smoochable lips could cause a car crash,” Dieter teased before quickly pretending he had never said anything at all.

“Not this one!” Bee raged. “I certainly didn’t cause this one.”

The blame was what frustrated her the most. And then the invasion of privacy. She was hurt, not being dramatic. Broken ribs seriously hurt, and they still hurt even now after being squished into corsets of varying tightness all week.

“Hollywood nobody is so wrong, Bee,” Claire said, trying to reassure her. “You’re not a Hollywood nobody. You’re a star.”

“I am a Hollywood nobody. That’s fine,” Bee said. “It’s not what I’m mad about. I can be called a million names, and I don't even care. I care about being blamed for a car crash and about this. Now everyone can see Dieter and me at this moment that was so personal.”

“It was kind of right in front of one of the biggest tourist destinations in the world,” Claire said, trying to reason with her. “When you told me where the crash happened, I kind of expected this. I don’t know if that makes you feel better, but you can’t do anything when you’re as famous as Dieter without someone seeing.”

Bee blew the breath she had been holding out through her lips. “I just didn’t want people to find out like this. What is my mom going to say seeing me like this? I probably have a thousand missed calls from her right now.”

“Well, I hope she approves,” Dieter laughs.

Bee sighed again and turned her focus back to her phone. Fudgy and Mallow. Her boys, she needed to check if she had any texts from the sitter.

[Dog Sitter]: Fudgy loves these bone treats, FYI! I’ll send him home with a bag when you get back. He misses his mommy!

[Dog Sitter]: Mallow has been so sweet lately. He’s really opening up and stepping out of his shell. He was a little timid at first, but now he’s doing so great!

[Dog Sitter]: Photo Message. Sweet boys got dressed up today for some fun.

“Oh my gosh, do they have sweaters?” Dieter asked, looking over her shoulder. “We need to get them more sweaters when we get back. The boys look so handsome.”

Bee smiled. “They could use more sweaters, I think. You’re right. They look really handsome.”

A couple of missed calls from her mom popped up at the top of the screen, scattered throughout the week. Good. Her mom didn’t have Instagram, so maybe the story wasn’t all over Facebook. That was the only place her mom really paid attention to.

But then the Instagram notifications piled in, and they came in fast. Dozens of them, DMs from strangers, spewing hate for her being spotted with Dieter.

Fat.

Ugly.

Irrelevant.

And, of course, a slurry of Asian slurs, because…of course.

Bee laughed as she clicked through them, deleting angry message after angry message. “Your fans kind of suck, Dieter,” Bee said. “They’re kind of dicks.”

Dieter sighed. “I’m sorry. I knew this would happen. Maybe we should both delete Instagram.”

“Pfft, no way,” Bee said with a grin. “This just makes me want to post more. I’ve got to show all of these whiny little bitches that I am hot. I should start posting more.”

Claire cackled from next to her, throwing her head back with laughter. “That’s the spirit, Bee! We can do a little photoshoot tonight.”

Bee continued scrolling and skimming the messages. “Oh, I also need to prove somehow that I’m not illiterate. Someone called me “an illiterate skank”. How do you prove that you can read?”

“Reply to her DM?” Claire offered.

“No, don’t do that,” Dieter protested. “They’ll just screenshot it and show everyone that they actually got to you. It just proves that you read your hate messages.”

Bee pouted. “I really just want to respond with something like super misspelled. Like “Read” but without the ‘a’?”

Dieter laughed but shook his head. “Don’t do it. It’s just bait.”

“Fine,” Bee said stubbornly. “I won’t.”

She kept scrolling through the messages until she finally saw a name that looked familiar. Instagram also told her that this person followed her account. Then she realized why it was so familiar. It was from her ex, but the profile picture had been changed. He was never really an Instagram guy when they were together, so why now?

“Oh shit,” Bee said, clicking into the message thread. Claire peeked her head over Bee’s shoulder to read with her.

[Ex]: So I see you’ve blocked my number, but you’re too stupid to block me on social media.

“I never blocked his number,” Bee said. “I literally didn’t. My phone has just been off.”

“Hmm,” Claire hummed, reading ahead. She reached over and scrolled with her finger. “What the fuck? He’s so mean.”

Bee pulled away from claire once she saw the direction that the messages were headed in. This was bad. Really bad.

[Ex]: Does Dieter know you’re a fan? I wonder how he would respond knowing you used to stay up late reading Dieter fanfics, that you would watch all of his movies, no matter how shitty they were.

[Ex]: I think he would take it pretty hard. And it would be pretty embarrassing. But luckily, when you decided to leave me, you left me with the responsibility of our internet bill, so I’ve got all your search history.

[Ex]: Dieter bravo shirtless. Dieter bravo hot. Dieter bravo nsfw. r/DieterBravo on Reddit, and pages and pages of Dieter Bravo romance fanfictions. You’re so pathetic leaving me for someone you have a sick, parasocial crush on. I bet he’s not even that hot in real life. I bet you’re just with him for the fame.

“What’s wrong?” Claire asked. She had only read part of it, but she seemingly didn’t want to clue Dieter in, who was clearing out his own hateful Instagram DMs.

“I just need some time to decompress,” Bee said. “I’ll meet up with you guys for dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” Dieter said, concern etched between his brows. “Get some good rest.”

“Yeah, get some good rest,” Claire agreed.

But Bee didn’t think she was going to get good rest at all. She had a phone call to make.

Chapter 14 | Series Masterlist

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #agentbrandy #Dieter and Bee Universe

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itsbrandy · 5 months

Text

Burnout Chapter 12

Summary: Getting into rehearsals for the show. Bee is confused on where Dieter stands.

Word Count: 9.8k

End of Episode song: Prototype - Andre 3000

Chapter 12: Duncan and Celine

Dieter and Bee had been on a grand total of three solo dates since their out-of-LA excursion, but they hadn’t gotten remotely close to the speed in which Bee’s past relationships had gone. She was used to the thrill of the chase being very short, luring men in with her good looks and quick jokes.

Both of her relationships were high speed and high reward, with a quick title and a fast move-in date. It was what Bee was used to, but it wasn’t necessarily a healthy pattern. Despite this, a fast-paced relationship was still something that Bee felt drawn to.

But for Dieter, commitment proved to be a taller task, and while Bee was beginning to feel insecure about his lack of labels and the fact that he hadn’t yet kissed her out of the context of a scene.

Rehearsals had started for their show, and while Bee’s character saw a lot of lip-on-lip action, Bee was feeling more than neglected in that department. It had been bothering her, every time Dieter was rattling off about his latest obsession or his excitement for filming she caught herself watching his mouth.

One time she even caught herself drooling.

Their Disney promotional filming had been pushed off until the week before filming, which gave Bee a short reprieve from her old life. She hadn’t had to face old coworkers or her ex at all in the past month, spending her days living the life of a mostly unknown celebrity.

Walking her dogs in the morning, grabbing a smoothie with Claire, and tending to the numerous beauty appointments that Claire insisted on were her duties outside of rehearsals and small social engagements.

Bee felt great — her hair had never been shinier, her skin had never been smoother, and she had never felt better about her diet. Still, there was a love sickness that lingered. The unrequitedness of Dieter’s obvious affection for her was maddening.

“Maybe I need to see a therapist or something,” Bee said after taking a long drag from her smoothie straw one Monday morning.

Claire made a face. Her fingertips encircled her straw as if she was about to do the same, but Bee’s statement gave her pause. “Why would you do that?”

Bee looked around. Their smoothie spot was mostly empty except for some private school teenagers skipping class and snacking on sickly sweet açaí bowls.

“I’m just so frustrated,” Bee admitted. “I feel like I have everything going for me — the perfect job, the perfect dogs, the perfect best friend, the perfect man — but it’s like not enough.”

Claire laughed and stirred her smoothie around with her straw. “I can only think of one thing on that list that isn’t quite enough.”

“It’s annoying!” Bee complained. “He hasn’t like told me how interested he is, or kissed me, or said we were anything in particular…but he keeps asking me out on these gorgeous dates. He’s the most romantic and most frustrating person all in the same…hot body.”

“It is a hot body,” Claire agreed.

“It is,” Bee echoed.

“But it’s not hot enough to get therapy over. Dieter’s got a lot of experience with dating in his time. He’s been famous for a lot longer, and if I had to guess,” Claire trailed off, avoiding making eye contact with her. “He wants to be careful about dating you in order to protect you and your career.”

“That’s stupid. I don’t care,” Bee complained. “I mean, I do care. I don’t want people to think I’m a nepo baby or anything. But let them talk. They’ll see the show and see that I really can act.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “Glad to see the confidence from you.”

“Thanks. I’ve been working on it,” Bee said. “But seriously, what’s the point of not kissing me in private then?”

“Not wanting to hurt you? Wanting to take it slow? You just got out of a long-term relationship with a guy who was kind of a piece of shit,” Claire said. “And I’m not saying you don’t know how to handle yourself, but it’s probably best that you ease into your next relationship.”

Bee pouted. She knew as much, and her heart was telling her the same. The lack of transparency was driving her crazy, though.

“If he wanted to take it slow, he could just tell me,” Bee pointed out. “I would at least like to know what’s going on in that brain of his.”

“You could always ask,” Claire said. “You know better than to keep things vague. Why not ask him what the trajectory of the relationship is going to look like?”

Bee snorted, nearly choking on her smoothie. “I’m not going to Dieter fucking Bravo and asking him what the trajectory of our relationship will look like.”

Claire laughed, too, and then glanced at her Apple Watch.

“Time to go?” Bee asked.

“Yup,” Claire said, rising from her seat. “Did you practice that big betrayal scene last night?”

Bee nodded and stood from the table as well. The two of them headed toward the door together. “Yeah, I hope I didn’t keep you up with my yelling in a British accent.”

“As if,” Claire elbowed her in the side. “I took an Ambien and was out.”

“Girl,” Bee said, a little note of concern in her voice.

“I can’t sleep during filming stuff like this,” Claire explained. “All this pressure to have a comeback is kind of eating me alive.”

Bee’s shoulders sagged. Claire’s worries were much more serious than her own, and she felt slightly guilty that she had filled their alone time with useless whining about Dieter when her friend was clearly going through something more important.

“That sounds like something you should definitely talk to a therapist about,” Bee said. “Like a for real therapist.”

“I am,” Claire said, unlocking the doors to her car. “Where do you think I got the Ambien script from?”

“That’s good, though. Is there anything else they said would help with it?” Bee asked. “Or is it something that you just kind of have to live through?”

“A bit of both,” Claire shrugged and started the car, waiting for Bee to buckle her seatbelt before backing out of the parking space. “But rehearsals are almost over, and filming starts in a week. And then, once filming starts, I will be too tired to worry, and once filming ends, we will be too busy touring and doing promo to worry, and then after the promo, it comes out. And then…my fate is sealed.”

Bee looked out the window as Claire navigated toward the freeway. The steady Los Angeles sun was high in the sky, as it usually was when they finished up their morning routine and headed toward the studio together. Today, there was not a cloud in the sky, not even the wispy ones that made you think there would be a small reprieve from the blistering sun.

“That sounds healthy,” Bee said. “Fate sealed and all.”

“All we can do is the best we can at any given moment,” Claire said, taking a deep breath in and a strong exhale out. Her fingertips gripped the steering wheel, white knuckles and all. “I’m just trying my best.”

“You’re doing great,” Bee assured her. “Really great.”

A solid brick of guilt stood firm in Bee’s stomach. Claire was an unrelentingly good friend to her, but she found it difficult to return the favor. Why? Why did she have to bring up Dieter, and why hadn’t she noticed that Claire was struggling so?

The radio hummed on a low volume setting, pumping slow, rhythmic bass. A Bad Bunny song, or so Bee thought. She wasn’t sure, but Claire listened to a lot of Latin music.

Claire remained silent. Her eyes focused on the road as she wove between cars and navigated the traffic. She was stunningly beautiful, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that would make any girl envious. Her hair wasn’t natural, but it was still breathtaking all the same.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Bee asked. “With the anxiety or with anything?”

Claire came to a complete stop behind a long line of cars in the exit lane. She turned to Bee and smiled with soft pink lips. “You’re doing exactly all the right things to help. Having you to go through this with is more than I could have ever asked for.”

Tears reached the corner of Bee’s eyes at her words. She had never been encouraged to keep female friendships in her past relationships, and Claire had truly been the best friend she had ever had. Bee reached over and playfully smacked Claire on the knee.

“What was that for?” Claire asked.

“Being a good friend and making me tear up,” Bee said.

Claire laughed. “I’m just trying to help. It’s called method acting.”

The two women pulled up to the studio at the same time as the other actors scheduled for the day. They were practicing a variety of scenes throughout the week, as it was the last week before filming. There were several scenes that needed more work, including a large-scale argument between Bee’s character, Dieter’s character, and Claire’s character. There were also three — THREE — sex scenes that still needed to be er — choreographed between Dieter and herself.

But those would be reserved for the last day of rehearsal. The thought of them hadn’t made Bee very nervous while she was still so frustrated with how reserved he had been. With Dieter’s womanizing reputation, his slow-going approach to dating her was so confusing, she almost wasn’t even excited for it.

Claire was right. It was a sign that Bee needed to be the one to start the conversation about what they were and what direction they were heading in.

“Wow, everyone is here early,” Sammi, the director, remarked. “Good, we have a lot to get through. Dieter and Bee, we’ve got the first encounter scene to get through again. Beverly and I were looking over the blocking for this scene, and we decided we hate it.”

Dieter laughed from behind Bee so loud that Bee could almost feel his waves of joy.

“I hated it too,” Dieter agreed. “I’m excited to see what you two have come up with.”

Bee turned to the side enough to welcome Dieter fully into the conversation. He smiled at her, the corners of his mouth and mustache pulling up in a greeting. She would never get used to the way that he looked at her.

“It’s much more accidental touching, blushing virgin than before,” Beverly offered. “We’re doing regency era, so we think she should be a little more embarrassed than outraged. Especially since Dieter is so hot and she’s unmarried.”

Bev was one of the producers with the most input, and with her gorgeous dark curls that fell to her waist, she could almost be one of the actresses herself. It took all of Bee’s newfound confidence in herself to not feel inferior to her.

“I can do a blushing virgin,” Bee said with a laugh. “It’s actually a refreshing departure from being an angry virgin.”

Her character, Celine, was known for being hot-headed and quick to react. These traits contrasted heavily with Dieter’s character, Duncan, and his calm, cool, and collected approach. Their relationship was much different than the enemies-to-lovers hot-headed pairing from the second season of the main series, Bridgerton. With every verbal lashing that her character gave to Dieter’s, he only responded with poise and respect.

To be entirely truthful, his character and his acting were hotter than anything Bee had ever seen on tv. He was somehow submissive and authoritative. Respectful and raunchy. Humorous and intelligent.

There were eerie similarities between Dieter and his character, and they never failed to make Bee feel like she was melting when they were doing scenes together.

Dieter set his bag and snacks down in the area for the cast and accepted a freshly cold bottle of ice water from one of the assistants. The rehearsal period for this show was slightly drawn out, but that was part of the attention to detail that Netflix put into this series, or so Bee had been told.

“Bee and Dieter in 2 minutes, please,” Sammi said from her director’s chair. She faced a plain white sheet set up, similar to how the large studio space had been arranged for Bee’s audition. Most of the blocking and practice they were doing was without set pieces or costumes, which made for inventive rehearsal.

This was all an effort to save cash before shipping the cast off to England to film most of the show in real, period settings. Bee had never traveled internationally before and needed to get a rushed passport and certificates for Fudgy and Mallow to join her.

Bee set her own bag down and grabbed a bottle of water from the same assistant. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. She was always careful to say please and thank you to the support staff on set. She knew how it felt to be ignored and underappreciated.

“Ready to get started?” Dieter asked with a cheeky smile. “You look great today.”

Bee resisted the urge to scowl. The compliments were endless with Dieter, but the confirmation of his true intentions was left to be desired. She would leave the conversation for out-of-work hours, though. There would be no mixing of work with pleasure for them, despite the fact that rehearsal sometimes left her lips bruised from the passion of his kisses.

Meaningless ones, though. There were no kisses outside of work hours, so Bee simply didn’t count them. But holy shit, they were incredible. Every time, the breath was taken away from her completely, and the tingles that she felt from her fingertips to her toes were indescribable.

“Thank you,” Bee said. “You do, too.”

Maybe the compliments were a work thing too – though that wasn’t fair, he gave her plenty of compliments on their few dates. Ever since their beachside romance, they had been consistently flattering.

“I practiced this one a lot last night,” he confessed. “I think this scene really sets us up well.”

“Yeah, it does,” Bee agreed.

Dieter shot her a look, one that displayed his confusion but was subtle enough that Bee felt she could ignore it.

It was going to be a long day of pretending to fall madly in love with Dieter Bravo – as if she wasn’t already doing so. Bee followed Dieter over in front of Sammi and Bev to work out the new positioning for the scene. They pulled their scripts out first and worked through the scene.

The story starts with an interaction that places their two characters in a compromising position, where after a slip and a fall, Duncan’s hand ends up on Celine’s breast as he helps her to her feet. The initial interpretation of this scene left Bee playing the scene as utterly outraged and shaking mad, but the new angle was that she would act more embarrassed than anything.

The change was easy enough. Truthfully, it was how Bee felt whenever she interacted with Dieter. He continued to make her feel like she was inexperienced.

“Shall we try it out then?” Sammi asked, putting on a fake British accent.

“We shall,” Bee joked, taking several steps back away from Dieter to reset the scene.

Dieter did the same, and the two of them waited for Sammi’s direction to start the scene over. She waved in a gesture for them to begin, and Bee stalked forward with her fists at her side. Her character was looking for Willa, Claire’s character, but she was nowhere to be found. Around the corner, Duncan, Dieter’s character, could be seen doing the exact same thing, except he was looking for his brother.

“Okay, stop,” Sammi said when they were just steps away from each other. Both Bee and Dieter froze where they stood, facing each other. “Let’s take this in slow motion. Bee put your right foot forward. Dieter, then your left foot.”

They followed her instructions, and the movement put Dieter’s ankle right against Bee’s.

“So, you’re going to be wearing a floor-length gown here, Bee,” Sammi explained. “Dieter will have stepped on it with this motion, which means when you move your left foot forward, you will turn, spin, and drop right into his arms with your back facing his chest.”

Sammi stood and demonstrated the action. It was a classic romantic trick, except the gag here would be that when Dieter pulled her back up, he would do so with his hand on her chest. Bee acted out the motion, pretending to slip, spin, and drop into Dieter’s arms.

“Is this alright?” Dieter whispered to her, knowing what came next. It was completely out of character, and Bee had already agreed to what came next by virtue of acting out the scene. Still, he insisted on making sure she was okay before he touched her every time.

The gesture was enough to make Bee melt, but she avoided showing it for fear of breaking character herself. He slowly placed his hand on her chest, mostly hovering over it. Bee followed the motions that Sammi and Bev had explained, looking down at Dieter’s hand, up to his eyes, and then back down to his hand.

Bee screamed, only to have Dieter’s hand clamp down on her mouth to cover her outburst. They couldn’t risk getting caught, but the action only made it look more like Dieter’s character was meaning to be inappropriate with her on purpose.

“Shh, shh,” Dieter said, urging her to be silent so that he could explain. “It was an accident. I tripped on your gown.”

He was no longer touching her chest, but his hand was still covering her mouth, not trusting her to not scream for help. According to those times, he had spoiled her honor, and if there were any witnesses, he might be forced to marry her. As a man avoiding marriage until he fell in love, he didn’t want to be paired with a stranger.

Bee spoke against Dieter’s hand clamped on her mouth, but there was no way for her to, be understood.

“Are you going to scream again?” Dieter asked her, looking deeply into her eyes. When they shot this for real, he would be looking both at her and at the camera in two separate shots, but the point was the same.

Bee shook her head ‘no.’ At this point, she had presumably started to understand the consequences of what had happened if anyone had seen.

“I tripped on your dress, and I tried to make sure you weren’t going to get hurt,” he explained, exasperated. “If you need me to defend your honor and marry you, so be it. But I don’t want to marry just anyone. I want to marry for love, do you understand me?”

“Sure,” Bee squeaked. “Love, yes, great, as long as no one is around.” She started to disentangle her limbs from his and move away from him.

“We shouldn’t be unchaperoned anymore,” Dieter insisted, standing and pulling Bee to her feet as well. “It was nice meeting you, um…” He trailed off, uncertain of her name. A small pout was affixed on his mouth.

“Celine,” Bee said quickly before moving past him and out of the bounds of their set. Her character knew who Duncan was, and she didn’t need any further confirmation of who he was. Only that he was the most eligible bachelor of the year.

“Excellent!” Sammi said, clapping her hands together. Beverly was also clapping, and others around the studio joined in, too. “That was perfect. That is exactly what we need to go for. Duncan wants capital L, Love. And Celine wants it too, but she’s waited so long to look for it that she’s scared. That perfectly embodied it right there!”

Dieter raised his hand up toward Bee for a high five, and she happily gave it to him. He then pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her and then releasing her.

It was crazy to her how easy Dieter made acting for her. With him, she felt like she could live a thousand different lifetimes. She believed the stories he wove and felt safe in expressing her feelings opposite him with any story they might have to tell together.

One scene and all of the bitterness that she had held for him this morning had completely drifted away, nonexistent. There would have to be a conversation about it at some point, she couldn’t go on having “dates” with him forever with no roadmap, but she knew that she needed to take her time after her breakup. And, if they would end up together, she wanted to enjoy the process of falling in love with Dieter.

She had already had plenty of experience loving him from afar, but these little moments were different. There was an unsurprisingly big difference between staring at photos of him on social media and looking at him in real life.

“You were amazing,” Dieter said to Bee. “I swear, every day, you are closer and closer to winning awards with your acting, Bee. I can’t believe you got here all the way from Disney. You’re meant to be here.”

Bee blushed, the flush spreading thick across her cheeks. “You’re too much,” she joked. “You and all of your compliments.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” Dieter said. “Besides, we’ve got to go do Disney again soon, don’t we?”

“We do,” Bee said with an easy grin. Their very first shoot together was a fond memory of hers, with the desserts that she had designed and the surprise of meeting Dieter for the first time. It was almost as treasured as their very first date or their very first kiss (although it was on set).

Sammi looked over her notes for a bit as Dieter and Bee made small chit-chat about a party they had both attended over the weekend. It was a small — for Hollywood — get together for a mutual friend of Dieter and Claire’s.

“Okay,” Sammi said, clapping her hands together. “I want to run another Bee and Dieter only scene really quick while I have you two here, and then we’ll pull in Claire for the next scene.”

“Sounds good,” Dieter said with a smile.

Ugh, that smile. Bee’s heart was thumping again.

The next scene was a classic scene from a bodice ripper, where the man who has been so far emotionally unavailable finally confesses his love and affection despite communicating poorly for the entire rest of the piece.

The scene felt like cruel irony as Bee and Dieter navigated it. She held his hands as he confessed his feelings to her character, but he kept having to stop and start over due to difficulty with his lines.

“I have known it—.” Dieter sighed, stopping and starting over again. “I have known it was you since the very start. Since that day that I bumped into you completely by accident, I have known that you were the one.”

Bee looked at him, pushing tears to well to the corners of her eyes. This wasn’t even really acting. It was low-hanging fruit. She was doing exactly what she felt like doing at this moment. She wanted to cry! She wanted to grab him by his shoulders and shake him and say, “Hey, real life Dieter, what have we been doing for the past month?”

“I told you that I would only marry if it was a love match,” he explained further. “All I wanted in my life was to be with someone that I loved, and so I waited.”

“I waited too,” Bee said. “I waited because I was scared, though. I was afraid of love, Duncan. I’ve never been ready to give myself to another person. For years I told my mother that I would not court men and that I wasn’t ready. Thank God she listened.”

“But you don’t need to be scared,” Dieter assured her. “Celine, as long as you love me, you—fuck.”

Dieter pulled his eyes away from her and looked over to Sammi for the rest of his line. His cheeks were burning red at the tops of them, and his bottom lip was tucked under his top lip in frustration.

“You never need to…” Sammi offered, trying to encourage him to come up with the rest of the line on his own.

“Celine, as long as you love me, you never have to be afraid of love ever again,” he said firmly.

Bee watched as his tongue swept over his bottom lip. Then, she looked back up at his eyes, holding the eye contact steady.

“Do you promise me?” Bee asked. “That if I love you, you will love me back?”

Dieter laughed, shaking his head. He was still fully in character, but the words that left his mouth suggested something otherwise. “That’s not how it works, Bee.”

“Celine,” Sammi called out. “Celine!”

Bee could feel her heart threatening to pound its way out of her chest. Her hands were quickly growing damp in Dieter’s, and she was struggling to hold his eye contact any further. Hearing her name on his lips in this context made her feel dizzy. Lovesick.

“Crap, Celine,” Dieter swore. He flashed her a nervous smile and looked up at the ceiling, chanting. “Celine, Celine, Celine.”

“Back up,” Sammi instructed, flipping back a page in her script. “From Bee’s last line.”

“Do you promise me?” Bee asked again. “That if I love you, you will love me back?”

Dieter did the same motion, laughing and shaking his head. “That’s not how it works, Celine.”

Bee took a deep breath in, looking at him with wide-open eyes, waiting for what he will say next. Dieter’s character doesn’t elaborate, instead waiting for her to concede.

“How does it work?” she asks, her voice just above a whisper. She channels the fear that she really feels with him, the unsafeness of her heart.

“I think,” Dieter says, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek. “I think you just hold your breath and dive in.”

“Perfect!” Sammi shrieked, throwing her arms up in the air.

A stack of papers fluttered to the ground with the grandness of her action, and the sound made Bee flinch. Dieter’s hand still rested on her cheek, his skin somehow warm against her flushed skin.

“Let’s have you run that one more time, just because I want to see it again. But somehow, you’ve done it again, and you’ve both gotten this just entirely perfect. Isn’t their chemistry just insane?”

Bev nodded her response, and as Bee turned to look at her, she caught something that looked like jealousy pasted upon Beverly’s face.

****

The rest of the week passed by as normal, with rehearsal after rehearsal polishing up scenes that they had already accomplished. Some of the cast and crew had already left for England in anticipation of filming, but Dieter, Claire, and Bee would be among the last to join them.

Today’s rehearsal was thin as a result, consisting of just Dieter and Bee for the morning. Claire would join them later — a first which Bee wasn’t sure she as ready for. Something about having Claire drive her to rehearsal each day had been a confidence builder. With today being the intimacy test and rehearsal, Bee’s nerves were at an all-time high.

Bee had been making careless mistakes all morning, even going so far as to accidentally drop Fugdy’s leash on their morning walk, sending the small dog sprinting down the road. He had come back to her as soon as she called out his name, but still…what a way to start the morning.

“Good morning,” Dieter said from beside her, starting to pour himself a cup of coffee at the refreshments table. Bee had been standing there for a minute, zoning out with a glazed donut in her hand.

How embarrassing.

“Morning,” Bee said, taking a bite of her donut and grabbing a napkin.

“Did you sleep alright?” Dieter asked a note of concern in his voice. “I got your text this morning about Fudgy almost making his great escape.”

She had texted him this morning. A double text at that.

A true moment of weakness.

And he hadn’t responded. His avoidance of their closeness or any clarification on their relationship had only gotten worse the closer to filming they got. Every love scene they practiced drew Bee closer and closer to wanting to shake him.

They still texted, still grabbed lunch together on set, and still joked together just as easily as before. The only thing that was awkward was the lack of clarification and Bee’s subsequent insecurity about it all.

Maybe it was just her. Maybe she was ruining it.

“Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention, and Fudgy got loose. He’s a good boy, though. He came right back as soon as I yelled for him, but he got pretty far,” Bee said with a shrug.

Dieter frowned. “That’s scary. I love that little guy.”

Behind her eyes, Bee could see Dieter curled up on the couch with Fudgy under one arm and a glass of wine in his open hand. That was just a couple of nights ago when Bee and Claire had invited him over to watch the episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race they had missed the Friday before.

“He loves you,” Bee smiled. “But Mallow’s heart is firmly with Claire. There’s no interrupting that.”

Dieter nodded and took a sip of his hot coffee. “I’m honestly worried you won’t be able to move away from her. You’ll have to leave him behind.”

Bee laughed. “Honestly, I might have to just stay with Claire forever. Or maybe when one of us gets married, we buy a whole cul de sac, like in Sister Wives or something.”

Dieter looked confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”

For a man, Dieter was pretty well-versed with pop culture, but it appeared the latest Sister Wives rewatch craze hadn’t taken hold of him just yet.

“The Mormon fundamentalist guy with four wives but like all of his wives just left him recently,” Bee said in between a bite of her donut. “The wives used to live in like four separate houses, but the dude would just rotate between every night.”

“Oh so,” Dieter said with a pointed finger like he knew the answer. “Mallow would be the husband, and you and Claire are the Sister Wives.”

“Right,” Bee said. “And if you’re involved, then Fudgy can rotate between me and you. I think that works out well.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dieter laughed. “I think that’s a win-win.”

Bee tried to imagine what that life would be like if her and Claire and Dieter just all remained friends. She could really only see herself with him. She was hungry for the fairytale romance that had begun to shape up toward the beginning. The bought-out restaurant on the beach…she could see herself growing old and returning there with him. With deep lines pressed into his skin and an easy smile on his face as he held her hand and looked out to the water.

“Are you ready for today?” Bee asked, trying not to focus on longing for the future.

Instead, she chose to fight fire with fire and illuminate the other harbinger of her anxiety.

Dieter huffed a laugh. “Yep. It’s been awhile since I’ve had to consult with an intimacy coordinator this much for one project, but it seems like we’ll be banging it out all day.”

Bee shook her head ‘no’. “Nope, don’t say banging.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair. I didn’t even mean to do that.”

“Sure, you didn’t,” Bee said, crossing her arms over her chest. She shut her mouth and ended the banter as their director approached the refreshments table, script in hand.

“Good morning, lovebirds,” Sammi said, reaching for a paper cup to fill with coffee. “Ready to work on these scenes?”

“That’s actually what we were just discussing,” Dieter said. “We’re both a little out of practice with intimacy, so we’re excited for the instruction.”

Bee choked slightly on the last bite of her donut. She definitely hadn’t said that, but with Sammi’s wry smile in response, it was apparent that she had gotten the joke.

“Well, it’s a clothes-on rehearsal, so you shouldn’t have to worry too much,” Sammi said, looking for the creamer to add to her coffee. “Should be pretty straightforward.”

Bee let loose the most dramatic sigh of relief. She knew that she would need to be mostly naked for those scenes eventually, but avoiding them today lowered her heart rate considerably.

From the looks of Dieter’s expression, he was relieved too. That familiar goofy sideways smile was perched on his lips.

“Great,” Dieter said, holding his coffee close to his chest. “Saving the best for England, I see.”

Sammi winked at him. “Everything is better in England.”

Dieter laughed and proceeded to banter with Sammi, insinuating that the U.S. is better than England and vice versa. Bee stayed quiet as they did so, a little too overwhelmed to join in on the fun.

“Finish your coffee, and let’s get started?” Sammi asked, taking a seat at her director’s chair.

Bev wasn’t here today, which was another relief for Bee. The producer had been making Bee feel slightly uncomfortable with the intensity in which she looked at her after interacting with Dieter.

Instead, an intimacy coordinator sat next to Sammi, a cute little Korean woman by the name of Mari. She was 100% professional, with a button-down shirt underneath a sweater and a slick-back ponytail to show off her colorful blue glasses.

Bee wasn’t sure what she was to expect from someone who specialized in the workings of TV sex, but someone that looked like a mixture of herself and a professional businesswoman was not what she was expecting.

Bee scolded herself for expecting someone a little slutty looking to be a better fit for the job, but then she laughed to herself. The only other Asian woman she had seen as part of this entire process was going to be the one who would help her pretend to be intimate with Dieter Bravo, of course. As if there wasn’t already a slight chip on her shoulder that left her with something to prove.

“Hi, I’m Mari,” she said, extending her hand toward Bee as she took her place before the director’s chair and the intimacy coordinator’s chair.

Bee shook her hand and smiled. “Hi Mari, I’m Bee.”

“Dieter,” he said from behind her, reaching out to shake Mari’s hand, too.

“Lovely to meet you both,” Mari said. She seemed a little stiff, maybe nervous, but she pulled out three thin binders from the over-the-shoulder bag that hung over the edge of her seat. “One for me, one for each of you.”

Dieter and Bee collected their copies, and each opened the binders. They contained information on the types of protective barriers they would use to help stimulate nudity on the show without actually being naked. The thin strips of fabric made Bee flush deep scarlet.

It had been one thing to kiss Dieter Bravo as part of her job, but this was going to be another thing entirely. She was not ready to make out with Dieter, especially not mostly naked for work. Bee thanked her lucky stars that today’s rehearsal would not be a simulation of the real deal for shooting.

They walked through a number of terms for intimacy, including information on keeping consent on set and a bunch of other details that Bee found herself thankful for. Then, they discussed the major shots that necessitated those garments, including a shot-by-shot guide.

“So this is going to be kind of like in slow motion?” Dieter asked, clarifying.

“Yes!” Mari said excitedly. “These shots are all little glimpses of intimacy. Just enough to tease and help viewers insinuate what is happening. Like in this scene, you can see Duncan’s leg kind of settle between Celine’s leg from the back, so you can presume that he’s like about to—.”

“Right,” Dieter cut her off, surprising Bee with his prudishness. He looked visibly nervous, and a light sheen of sweat covered the bronze skin of his brow. “That makes a lot of sense. So, what are we working on today?”

“Just going over those scenes,” Mari said with a shrug. “It’s really no pressure, but we want you two to get used to the stop-and-start nature of these scenes. It’s not a big, heated make-out session. Instead, it’s more of a choreographed make out, and people aren’t really used to choreographing kissing their partner.”

Dieter stiffened at the use of the word ‘partner.’

Bee nodded, though, in agreement. This was going to be super weird. She and Dieter hadn’t so much as discussed getting to this step together, so the thought of having to simulate it step-by-step in slow motion wasn’t exactly a pleasant one.

Thinking about performing these scenes with Dieter made her feel itchy, like the unrequited statement of whether or not they were a couple who could even go to this next step was sitting just beneath her skin.

“Sounds great,” Bee said. “I’m excited to get started.”

She was lying, but she wasn’t exactly opposed to doing her job.

Mari eagerly set the scene up, referring to the first passionate makeout scene between Duncan and Celine that took place on the floor of a luxe hallway in Duncan’s manor. For them, it would be on the cement floor of the studio, but the motions and actions were all the same.

They started their scene with Dieter backing her against the wall, which was everything Bee could have imagined and more. His lips met hers, hot and aggressive but somehow gentle all the same, and she felt so blissful she nearly forgot her line.

“How dare you kiss me like this,” she said, in character.

Dieter smiled at her and trapped her lips once more.

“Good!” Mari said excitedly. “So, here, we’re going to transfer from the wall to the floor. This is going to be a little bit advanced, so Dieter, you’re going to sweep her leg out from under her in a controlled manner. So, nudge your right foot in behind her left foot, and then make sure your knee is right up against hers.”

Dieter followed her instructions, and Bee’s heart kept thundering away. The heat of Dieter’s body, even between layers of clothing, was overwhelming. His scent was dizzying, and his presence over her was more impressive than any man had ever been. Even though they were doing a choreographed dance of sorts in a studio, he acted as if he was in complete and total control.

“Great, and then your hands are going to go at her waist and behind her back,” Mari instructed. Dieter listened and snaked his arms around her waist, holding her gently and firmly all the same. “Twist and rotate so that your back is against the wall now, Dieter. Bee, this is going to put you into a slight dip.”

The directions reminded her of the couple’s first meeting scene, where Dieter tripped and spun her in a similar manner.

“Oh, this is just like the first meeting scene,” Bee said.

“Exactly!” Sammi said excitedly. “You guys make it look so good!”

Dieter once again mimicked Mari’s instructions and cradled Bee in his arms.

“Now, Bee, you’re going to plan your back foot firmly on the ground and anticipate him pushing you to the ground. It’s sort of a half-lower, half-fall here.”

Bee held her breath and prepared for Dieter to totally drop her on the ground by accident, but he didn’t. Instead, he skillfully lowered her to the ground and himself on top of her. Mari was saying something, something about propping her knee up so that the dress she would be wearing would pool up around them nicely, and Dieter did it for her as he lowered his hips against hers.

This was too overwhelming. It was too hot in here, and there was too much Dieter. As if that could even be possible, but it was. The physical contact with him was a far departure from staying up late and reading Dieter Bravo romance fan fiction. It was farther still from the intimate dates. The seaside restaurant date, the late night drive-in movie date, the —

“I need a break,” Bee blurted out.

As soon as the words passed her lips, Dieter jumped off of her and completely separated his body from her. “I’m sorry,” he said as if it was a reflex.

“N-no, you did nothing wrong,” Bee stammered. “I just need to get some water.”

She felt lightheaded, dizzy even. And she quickly stood up from her spot lying down on the floor, only to topple over into Dieter’s arms once more.

“Yeah, I need water and air,” she insisted, disentangling their limbs. Bee felt sick, deeply ill. She felt like she wanted to laugh and cry all in the same breath. A small part of her – maybe an insane part of her – wanted to call her ex and tell him that he was right. She wanted to tell him that he was right and that she didn’t have what it took to do this in Hollywood.

She wanted to tell him that she knew she wasn’t good enough for Dieter, either.

Bee swiveled and tried to make her exit without looking at Dieter, but he grabbed her by the elbow and stopped her.

“Are you okay?” Dieter asked. His head was lowered near her face, his dark eyes concerned but still bright with the passion that he had been feeling while they kissed.

“Yeah, I’m —,” Bee said, trying to pull away from him. “I just need air.”

Dieter kept hold of her and started to escort her out of the studio. Assistants swarmed around them, but he waved them all off, guiding her by her arm and a gentle hand on her back.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured her. “She’s fine, guys. I’m serious. Back off of her. She knows what she needs.”

That was exactly the problem. She knew what she needed, and Dieter wasn’t giving it to her. She felt like she was falling apart, reverting back to toxic dating habits when everything had been going so well. But this was just a symptom of a problem she already knew that she had.

Somewhere along the line, Bee never really learned how to stand up for herself.

Maybe it had to do with her utterly unapproachable mother or the standards that she held for her, but she felt comfortable in a grand total of zero of her personal relationships with asserting herself or letting the other person know how she felt.

She couldn’t do it with her first long-term partner or her second. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to tell Claire that she really wasn’t a fan of sushi despite Claire ordering it three times a week.

These difficulties were there despite how safe she felt in the relationship itself. Bee knew that Claire would never hurt her. She was less certain about Dieter and her heart, but she knew that from a friendship standpoint, at least, he wouldn’t either.

Dieter guided her out of the studio and onto the front steps, helping her sit down and handing her a water bottle that he must have tucked underneath his arm on the way out.

“Here, drink,” he said, uncapping the bottle and putting it in her hand.

“Thank you,” Bee said, taking a long sip from it. The water helped the lightheadedness immediately, and she downed half the bottle in one big gulp. But that nagging was still there, pulling at her heart and poking at her.

“It’s really intimidating. Not that I’m intimidating, but having to like do something so special with someone in front of other people is hard. It’s not something that normal people have to do,” Dieter explained. “This reaction is totally how I felt with my first role like this. You feel like your body isn’t your own a little bit. And it’s disorienting for sure.”

“Right,” Bee agreed. Well, at least he understood part of the problem. She wasn’t 100% sure that he was going to understand the second aspect of it. But her words were climbing up her throat now and threatening to spill all of her secrets. “I just have to say something to you.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow. “I’m all ears, Bee.”

She turned toward him, knees pointing toward his, and handed the water bottle back to him, mostly to cover up how badly her hands were shaking. Bee took a deep breath in and steadied herself. She had already noticed the pattern, the problem that she had gotten herself into throughout her life of silence when she had an issue with something.

Today was going to end that pattern.

“I feel like this is difficult because of how I feel for you, and I’m unsure of how you feel about me,” she said. “I really like you, and I understand that we should probably take things slow, but I don’t feel comfortable acting like we’re just friends when I feel like there is definitely something more. It’s confusing to me. I don’t need like a confirmation that we’re an item or anything, but I do need to know if that’s something that you’re interested in.”

Dieter looked at her, but his eyes were unreadable. “Yes.”

That was it? Yes?

“Yes?” she asked, trying to clarify.

“Yes, I consider myself to be dating you,” he said with a nod. “I’m sorry if I haven’t stated it clearly, and we probably should’ve had this conversation sooner, but–.”

“No, it’s okay,” Bee interrupted. “I hadn’t said anything either. So it’s my fault, too, then.”

Dieter frowned. “But I’m the one that’s been asking you out on dates, so it’s my responsibility too. I’m just trying to find the balance. I want to see you as a friend, to spend time with you and Claire. I also want to see you as a coworker because I think that we make a really kickass team of actors. But more than anything, I see you as someone that I want to be with. And it’s hard for me to reconcile all of that right now.”

“I understand,” Bee said. His words were a punch to the gut if she had interpreted him correctly. It sounded like he couldn’t have her be all of those things at once, and since he said dating last, that was obviously the lowest item on the agenda. “So, no more dates then?”

Dieter laughed. “No, more dates. I need to prioritize that element of our relationship, obviously.”

Bee felt those familiar butterflies gather in her stomach again. The rising heat that felt a little bit like acid reflux and a little bit like falling deeply, desperately in love. She smiled at him, and he slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him.

“I also haven’t done this outside of work yet,” he said, placing his other hand beneath her chin and lifting her face to meet his.

He kissed her hard and soft all the same, just like the day that she auditioned for her role.

But this time, they were not Duncan and Celine.

They were Bee and Dieter.

****

Bee yawned and stretched slightly, looking at the rising sun peeking up from behind the castle. “God, it’s so early.”

“Welcome to Disneyland,” Dieter said, fussing with the collar of his polo shirt. “Disneyland – where I only ever see it before the sun gets in the sky, and thank God for that because it gets damn hot here.”

“Dieter, language,” Bee laughed, throwing him a slight elbow. They were in front of the camera now. All dressed up in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle for a return to the first thing they had ever filmed together – the segment where Dieter had tasted her desserts.

The camera crew counted them down, and Dieter took the lead.

“Hey, Disney fans, it’s Dieter here,” Dieter said brightly. He ramped up his personality in a far departure from his grumbling just moments before. “We’re so excited to discuss more about how Disney desserts are created, and we know just how much you loved seeing those incredible Star Wars desserts designed by our friend Bee here!”

“Hi, everyone,” Bee said. “It’s me, Bee, again. I’m so excited to hang out with Dieter again today and show him just how I designed and created the unique Star Wars treats that you can enjoy in the Disney Parks right now!”

Dieter turned to her. “Wait, we can enjoy them today? Like right now in the Parks?”

“Yep!” Bee said. “In any of the confectionaries in the Parks, you can find at least one of my special Star Wars treats. But, if you want to find all of them, you should look no further than Galaxy’s Edge.”

“Cut!” the Disney film crew leader yelled. “Perfect take. Let’s do one more, just in case.”

“You’re doing great, Bee!” Staci yelled from somewhere behind the blinding lights. “Happy birthday, by the way!”

“Thank you, Staci!” Bee yelled back, waving back at the lights.

“Dammit, she said it first,” Dieter complained from beside her.

Bee snorted. “No, she did not. You texted me at midnight and said it twice when you picked me up from my place.”

Dieter pouted. “But she told you happy birthday first at Disneyland.”

“Oh my gosh,” Bee laughed. “Can we just do the second take now? This guy is driving me insane.”

She was only joking, but the film crew indeed picked up the pace. They filmed one more take of that exact intro before heading over in carts to Galaxy’s Edge to show Dieter how to order the treats in Galaxy’s Edge. They also would go over Bee’s notebook, where she had initially designed the desserts.

As Dieter snacked, Bee explained to Dieter and the camera what was in each dessert, similar to the Great British Bakeoff dessert intros. She then explained why she chose certain flavors, design elements, and even the types of desserts. Dieter was acting, but he still hung onto every word like he usually did.

“You’re amazing,” he said, watching her explain. “You’ve got to keep baking even though you’re a big actress now.”

Bee felt herself blush – that wasn’t part of the script, but the crew didn’t stop them from continuing.

“Talented baker extraordinaire and a talented actress all in one!” Dieter said, trying to play off his personal compliment.

“Thank you,” Bee said with a grin. “Now, what do you think of the cookie again?”

“It’s truly, seriously out of this world,” Dieter said, following the script once more.

“Like Tatooine out of this world or Arvala-7?” Bee asked.

“Both,” Dieter said. “Definitely, definitely both.”

“Cut!” the film crew leader yelled. “Perfect work, guys. It looks like we’re going to get out of here early, after all!”

Bee let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. Their flight to England was first thing in the morning, and she still didn’t feel remotely ready. She still had to pack and prepare the dogs to be boarded. Her to-do list was so long that her to-do list had a to-do list.

Together, she and Dieter were led through the back of Disney property and back out to Dieter’s car. He had driven her here this morning, insisting that the birthday girl should never have to drive herself to work.

“We have somewhere to be tonight,” Dieter said, putting the car in drive and taking hold of her hand.

“What? No! Dieter, I have to pack for England. I haven’t even started,” Bee complained. “I said no dates, no fanfare. It can be my birthday when we get to London.”

Dieter rolled his eyes as he pulled out of the parking lot. “London time is work time. And you aren’t packing on your birthday.”

“We leave tomorrow for England. Would you like me to be naked in England?” Bee questioned. “Does that sound like a good idea?”

Dieter shrugged and put his turn signal on. “I don’t see much of a problem with it to be honest.”

Bee wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be such a boy.”

“I’m just being honest! But fine, you can pack during the day today, but we go out tonight. Deal?”

“Do I have a choice?” Bee asked. “It’s sounding like I don’t have a choice.”

Dieter laughed. “I had Claire buy you a dress just for the occasion if that answers your question.”

And so Dieter drove her home despite her protests about making a fuss about her birthday. Not only had they just determined that they were dating the week before, but she also never put much thought into her birthday. Getting older was just that to Bee. She was getting older. Her exes never made much of a fuss about her birthday. Those men never bothered to get her so much as a cake from the grocery store.

But here was Dieter, her dream man in the flesh, insisting on a date despite her already packed schedule. She complained only out of nervousness about their big trip to begin filming.

When Dieter pulled up to Bee and Claire’s condo, he got out of the car to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, then the forehead, and then the lips.

“Prettiest birthday girl,” he said, pulling her in for another kiss on the lips. “Pack during the day, okay? And be ready by 7?”

Bee winced. “Sure, I can be ready by 7.”

“Good,” Dieter said. Then, as he was closing himself into his car. “Happy birthday, Bee.”

“You keep saying it!” Bee protested with a laugh.

Bee struggled to pack for London with the upcoming birthday date for this evening. Claire had been gone all day attending various beauty appointments before they had to go, but she did volunteer to help with packing when she got home. Together, they conquered Bee’s packing quickly and finished up just before 2 pm.

Despite the extra time, Bee was thoroughly exhausted. Claire had another couple of appointments to attend to, which left Bee to her own devices. So, she traded the rest of the items on her to-do list for simply finding her passport and taking a nap on the couch. She deserved it. After all, it was her birthday.

Around 5 pm, Claire woke her up with a sparkly gold cocktail dress in her hands.

“Girl, you need to start getting ready,” Claire said. “You’ve got a birthday date in two hours.”

Marshmallow lept up from his spot on Bee’s chest and started panting excitedly that Claire was there.

“Shit, you’re right,” Bee said, peeling herself from the couch. “I’ll start getting ready now. Wait, where are you going?”

Claire was all dressed up like she had somewhere to go, too. She wore a short purple dress and had a matching clutch in her hands. Her blonde hair was perfectly curled in a way that Bee could not replicate for the life of her despite Claire showing her all of her secrets.

“Sammi invited me to a little indie award show. It shouldn’t go too long, so I’ll be home before 10,” Claire said with a shrug.

“Ooh,” Bee said. “A short dress to an award show, I love that for you. Long dresses are the worst.”

Claire looked a bit embarrassed. “Are you sure it’s alright? I know people do it sometimes, but like, this isn’t the Grammy’s or anything.”

“Yeah, you look great!” Bee said, taking the sparkly dress from her. “I’m sure I’ll look great in this, too. Your style is insane, Claire.”

Claire looked at the time on her phone and started heading toward the front door with Mallow trailing behind her. “Okay, well, I need to get going. Have fun, birthday girl!”

“Have fun!” Bee called after her. “Mallow, baby, come here.”

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Bee yawned and headed for the bathroom, where she started on her hair and makeup. The dress was gold, so she decided on gold eyeshadow. With how nice the dress was, it was clear that Dieter had something really nice for her birthday in mind. Her heart was pounding even while she was doing mindless tasks like applying her mascara.

[Dieter]: Here! 😘

“Shit,” Bee said aloud. She fumbled around her bedroom, looking for her keys and a small purse. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Finally, having located her belongings, she locked Marshmallow and Fudgy up and joined Dieter in his car.

Dieter was suspiciously quiet as he drove toward WeHo. It wasn’t a long drive, but even ten minutes without a vocal Dieter was too long.

“What are you up to, sneaky?” Bee asked after a while. “I’m not used to this birthday treatment.”

Dieter sucked his teeth. “That’s the problem. You need to get used to surprises and stop asking so many questions.”

The way he said it was playful, but Bee took the hint and remained as patient as possible while he drove them toward their destination.

The outside of the building was unassuming and tan, and it looked almost like someplace where celebrities wouldn’t be caught dead at. But, with this being West Hollywood, Bee guessed it was probably much nicer on the inside.

Dieter got out of the car and opened Bee’s door for her, leading her into the building by her hand.

The inside of the restaurant was indeed fancy, and she wasn’t quite sure if it was a restaurant, a bar, or a nightclub. Gorgeous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the whole space felt like a time capsule.

“What is this place?” Bee asked. Her cocktail dress was glittering like the room was, shimmering gold and reflective. “Where have you taken me?”

“This is Delilah,” Dieter said with a smile. “It’s got a really cool 1920s theme. I think Kylie Jenner had a birthday party here or something, so it felt fitting.”

Bee laughed. “I am not anything like Kylie Jenner, no offense to her.”

“I’m sure she’s not offended,” Dieter laughed. They held hands as they walked further into the restaurant, which suspiciously had no host at the host stand. “But you do have birthdays, just like Kylie Jenner does.”

“Wh-?” the question reached her lips and disappeared all in the same moment as Dieter led her around the corner to a room full of people all seated around glittering gold decor.

She spotted Claire, Staci, and Sammi in just one quick glance. But what pulled her eyes away was a bright, gold neon sign on the wall that displayed the word “BEE,” surrounded by an arrangement of stunning white roses.

“SURPRISE!” the room cheered. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEE!”

Chapter 13 | Series Masterlist

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