Lilah fought the blush rising to her cheeks as she glowered at him.
It had seemed like a no-brainer to leave the show at the time. She’d been there for five seasons, her contract was up, her star was on the rise, and things between her and Shane were as bad as they’d ever been. They barely said a word to each other that wasn’t in the script. So, naturally, she’d jumped at the offer of what seemed like her dream role: a feature adaptation of an award-winning journalist’s memoir about his relationship with his troubled mother, helmed by a legendary director she’d been dying to work with.
In retrospect, the fact that they were willing to cast a twenty-seven-year-old in a role that spanned the ages of thirty-five to seventy should’ve been her first hint that things were creatively awry behind the scenes. Still, Lilah had thrown everything she had into her performance, ignoring the misgivings that piled higher and higher as the shoot went on, writing them off as the standard insecurities that came from pushing herself as an actor for the first time in years.
She’d known for sure that she was in trouble before they’d even wrapped, when an unflattering candid picture of her on set in her old-age makeup had leaked and gone viral, instantly taking off as a humiliating meme. Her own sister had texted it toher with the caption “You after seeing this picture for the millionth time.” That was the only one she’d laughed at.
The movie itself had fared even worse, hailed as a career low for everyone involved. Not just mediocre but laughably bad—an instant camp classic. When she’d first received the script, she’d been practicing her Oscar acceptance speech in the shower; by the time the movie was released, she was contemplating whether to go pick up her Razzie in person. For the next year, she couldn’t get an offer for anything more substantial than a birth control commercial.
But, thankfully,Intangiblehad been just as desperate as she was. Despite their best efforts, the ratings had plummeted without her. Lilah didn’t let it go to her head. They’d be in the same situation if Shane had left instead of her. No matter how the two of them felt about each other when the cameras were off, it was the chemistry between their characters, Kate and Harrison, that made the show worth watching. She knew it. He knew it. The whole fucking world knew it.
And so, mistake or not, she’d agreed to come back for one last season.
At first, it had seemed like a lifeline. A starring role in a hit TV show wasn’t a worst-case scenario by any standard. But she’d gotten a taste of what was in store for her when she’d stepped backstage and every head in the room had turned practically in unison. Some people had seemed happy to see her, sure, but there’d been just as many that had raised their eyebrows and turned away, her former (and future) costar leading the charge.
She didn’t blame them. She understood. She’d abandoned the people who’d given her her break, then come crawling back once her reach for bigger and better things had exceeded her grasp. Her stomach roiled at the thought of how the cast and crew ofIntangiblewould treat her once she was back on set.
Based on the icy reception she was getting from the cast member sitting across from her, it wasn’t promising. But that was par for the course with him.
Just then, the door cracked open, and a production assistant poked her head in.
“Lilah? Shane? Come along with me.”
Lilah stood, smoothing her skirt, and quickened her pace to catch up with Shane, who was already halfway out the door. With the boost from her not-so-high heels, they were the same height—six-two, give or take a slouch. She’d always been grateful that she was allowed to wear comfortable shoes whenever they had to stand next to each other, since she’d be taller than him in anything above three inches (which would obviously confuse and distress the audience). She jutted her chin high, trying to elongate herself as much as possible as she walked beside him, matching him stride for stride. She wanted whatever edge on him she could get.
The PA led them to a spot in the wings and handed each of them a cordless mic. “Just wait here until he introduces you,” she stage-whispered before disappearing again.
Lilah stood still, every muscle rigid, trying to ignore the sensation of Shane’s eyes burning into her. Her stomach twisted when she caught a whiff of his soap—faint, but still painfully familiar. Only when he looked away again did she allow herself to sneak another glance at him.
Now that she was closer, she could see the light from the stage glinting off the handful of new grays threaded through his dark hair. Her gaze moved past the angular jawline she knew was hiding under his beard, drifting down to his suit—oxblood, expensive-looking, perfectly tailored to shoulders and biceps that were definitely broader than they used to be.
The first time they’d done this, he’d shown up wayoverdressed, wearing a cheap rented tuxedo that was somehow too big and too small at the same time—not that she had room to judge, in an obnoxiously trendy dress she’d maxed out her credit card to buy, carefully tucking the tags back inside after she’d zipped it up. She’d teased him about it anyway:I didn’t realize we were going to junior prom.
What do you want me to do with your corsage, then?he’d replied with a grin.
With effort, she redirected her attention back to what she could see of the stage. Hal Kagan, the president of UBS, was presenting the Tuesday night lineup, sounding only moderately stilted as he read off the teleprompter.
“Almost a decade ago, I stood on this stage introducing you to a pilot that would go on to become one of our most popular shows: the one-hour supernatural dramaIntangible.” He paused for applause. “But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.Intangiblewill be wrapping up next year after nine incredible seasons, and you better believe we’re sending it off with a bang. First, let’s take a look back at some of Kate and Harrison’s most memorable moments over the years.”
Hal stepped off to the other side of the stage, and the lights dimmed. Though Lilah couldn’t see the screen, her brain easily filled in the images from the pilot that accompanied the blaring audio. Kate and Harrison’s first meeting had been her audition sides. By now, eight years on, most of the material was a blur—memorized, shot, then promptly forgotten—but she could still recite that scene by heart.
“What do you want?”She sounded so young, her voice higher and breathier than she ever remembered it being.
“Well, actually, I was hoping you could help me figure that out,”Shane drawled in response. Even without seeing it, she knew he was giving her The Look, the one that had made her linestumble right out of her head at their chemistry read. She’d been sure her flub had cost her the role, only to find out later that it was the moment that convinced the network to cast them both.
The next five seasons flew by in a montage set to a high-octane cover of the theme song: the two of them bickering, bantering, solving supernatural mysteries (most of which conveniently took place in the L.A. metro area), and, of course, staring longingly at each other when they thought the other one wasn’t looking.
The overarching storyline for the fifth season had centered around Kate and Harrison’s mission to restore Harrison’s corporeal form, bringing him back to life. In the season finale, it seemed like they’d accomplished it, falling into each other’s arms at long last—only for Kate to go limp, her life force drained as an unexpected side effect.
Shane’s overamplified sobs filled the theater.
“Kate…oh my god, please, no…please…you can’t leave me, not now…Kate…KATE!”
Lilah swore she could hear scattered sniffles throughout the auditorium. Even she had to admit that she’d been impressed by Shane’s performance; she hadn’t thought he’d had it in him. She’d been less impressed by the garlic bagel with extra lox he’d eaten right before shooting it and had used every last scrap of her training to keep her face relaxed as he exhaled cured fish breath directly into it.
The video ended to applause, and the lights came back up as Hal returned to the stage.
“Though we couldn’t be prouder of the last three seasons, the relationship between Kate and Harrison has always been the heart of the show.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Ladies and gentlemen…I amthrilledto announce that Lilah Hunter will be returning forIntangible’s ninth and final season.”
