"I wishyou would've talked to me about this before you agreed to it," Lucas says as he escorts me to Stage Twenty-Six. It's the first day of production on theSurvivorfilm, and thanks to my ill-timed commitment to Sophia, I'm walking across the lot before I've had coffee, trying to figure out exactly what I'm going to say.
"I know. Let's just get through this."
It's quiet this early in the morning, and the calm before all the creativity that comes to life within these stages gives me a rush of excitement. Everything here feels full of promise and hope. I can't explain the thrill of driving through the gates and stepping into what's essentially a huge metal barn. One day, it's transformed into a basketball stadium, and the next, it's a church. It's magic.
I've missed being out here, missed the smell of sawdust and paint from the studio mill, the tents with rows of food from craft services, and production assistants zipping by in golf carts to grab the morning coffee orders. I'm notsure when my days started blending into hours of back-to-back meetings, but it's been a while since I set foot on a stage on day one of filming.
Normally, I don't attend first-day productions, but when Sophia asked me to open the day with a few words, I couldn't say no. Part of me is excited about this movie—it's a risky bet for the studio, but I've always been drawn to stories that rely on human connection and raw emotion over superpowers and explosions. Another part of me just wanted to see Sophia. It's more than just physical attraction. Her excitement is contagious, reminding me of how I felt when I first moved here from New York. Ambition wrapped in curiosity, sprinkled with pure anticipation—that feeling doesn't surface much in my usual executive meetings.
"Ok, well, just keep it simple," Lucas coaches, scrolling through his phone while he talks. "Wonderland is home to the most talented creatives… We aspire to be the most innovative, exciting, and fun place to tell stories… We wouldn't be here or successful without all of you… You know the drill."
I nod absently. We round the corner toward Stage Twenty-Six, and I spot Sophia standing outside the door with her phone pressed to her ear. She's dressed in black yoga pants and a faded gray sweatshirt, and her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail. It's only the second time I've seen her casual, and the glimpse of this relaxed side of her feels oddly intimate. My forward momentum stalls for a moment as I'm transfixed by how natural and effortless she looks in this outfit—every bit as captivating as she was in that glamorous ballgown.
She holds up a finger, signaling for us to wait whileshe finishes her call. I can only imagine the adrenaline running through her right now. First day at the helm of a movie you'll bring to life. She's starring in it, too, which can be tricky, but I'm excited to see her impress everyone.
Her gaze flicks over toward me and then quickly away, her brow tight like she's caught in a tense conversation. She paces a few steps, nods, and then says something quietly into the phone before ending the call. Slipping her phone into the front pouch of her sweatshirt, she draws in a breath, and her expression brightens as she turns to us. Still, there's a trace of leftover worry in her eyes that I can't quite place.
"Sorry about that. Morning!" she says, flashing a quick smile.
"Hope everything's ok?" I ask, sensing there might be more behind her forced cheer than she's letting on.
"Oh, yeah, nothing to worry about. Trying to talk Wyatt into dinner with the parents."
I'm compelled to press her further, though I'm not sure where this surge of curiosity is coming from. Then Lucas jumps in.
"Morning, Sophia! Is everyone here? We won't take up much of your time—in and out."
Usually, I appreciate Lucas playing the handler role, but today, his impatience grates on me. A flare of irritation burns through my veins, mixed with a pang of confusion over why I suddenly care so much about lingering here.
I hold the door for Sophia and Lucas and then follow them inside. The stage is organized chaos, but it's the kind that fills me with life. Once we're settled, Sophia steps forward to command the room with a calm, confidentgrace. Her words flow with such warmth that it feels like she's speaking directly to each person here—lifting them up and making them feel vital to the process.
When it's my turn, I offer the standard corporate spiel. I'm aware of how stiff I sound by comparison, and I make a mental note to tell Lucas that I need to appear more human in situations like this. I'm sure he'll come back at me with a reminder that there better not be a next time. Despite that bit of awkwardness, I do have an early meeting with the streaming team that I need to get to, and disappointment creeps in again at the thought that I can't hang around all morning.
Once opening remarks are over, Sophia walks me to the exit. "Thanks again for being here. This was so great—it really sets the tone that we have full studio support." She rests a hand on my arm, her gratitude palpable.
It's a simple gesture, but I feel it more than I should. Her smile radiates like sunshine, reminding me of what's at stake. We're here to make a movie, nothing more.
"No problem," I say, and we fall quiet for a moment. My hands shift to button my suit jacket, my usual power move. "Well, I'll let you get back to it."
"You know…" She hesitates, biting her lower lip as if to stop herself. "You're probably busy, but you could stay for the first read-through if you want."
I glance from her to the cast and crew mingling around a cluster of tables. I must have paused too long because she's already waving it away.
"It's ok. You're busy. I know I've already taken up a lot of your time. Next time."
I am busy. But apparently, I can't resist being around her. I hold up a finger, asking her to give me a minute, and head out the door to talk to Lucas.
"Hey, I'm going to stick around for a bit. Listen to the first read-through."
"You're kidding, right?" Lucas says.
"Not at all."
"You have meetings."
"I'm aware."
"You have meetings with Gavin Goldberg," he reminds me, exasperated.
