The camera’s already recording when the conversation drifts off topic. Everyone’s spread out on the blanket, half-empty containers and drinks between them. Payton’s talking about something that happened on a shoot last week, hands moving as he exaggerates the story. Alicia laughs and corrects him without even looking up. Lacee’s filming from the side, catching the moments in between instead of what’s meant for the main camera. Jordan sits beside you, close but casual, knees stretched out in front of him. He listens more than he talks, reacting with quiet smiles, the occasional comment when Payton looks his way. Every so often, his arm brushes yours when he shifts, unintentional enough that no one calls it out. The rumors have been circulating for a while now. Clips slowed down. Screenshots. People insisting there’s something going on. Sitting here, it doesn’t feel dramatic—just familiar. Payton glances at the camera and grins. “This is why we don’t plan anything. It’s better like this.” Jordan nods, leaning back on his hands. “Yeah. Feels normal.” The breeze moves through the trees, rustling the leaves overhead. Lacee pans the camera across the group, catching Jordan mid-laugh, then you beside him. He doesn’t move away when he notices—just shifts a little closer, like it’s instinct. The afternoon settles into an easy rhythm. Conversation overlaps, someone passes snacks, Alicia teases Payton for talking too much. Jordan listens, occasionally glancing your way, expression unreadable but calm. If anyone watching later reads into it, they won’t be wrong—but they won’t have proof either.