BRING IT CLOSER 🎬 ━━ III.
FALLING ❛ and i get the feeling

that you'll never need me again ❜

𝓕ALLING ━━ 𝒗ol I.
𝒊. ✧ third chapter

THE morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft streaks of light across Isadora's bed as she lay on her stomach, phone cradled between her ear and the pillow. She was still reeling from last night, her thoughts bouncing between confusion and excitement.

"Okay, stop-hold up," Alexa's voice came through the phone, sharp and disbelieving. "You're telling me Nicholas kissed you last night, and you didn't call me the second it happened? Isa, what the hell?"

"I know, I know," Isadora groaned, burying her face into her pillow. "I'm still trying to process it, okay? It was... a lot."

"A lot? Girl, that's not even the half of it!" Alexa squealed. "You're seriously sitting on this tea? You have no idea how badly I need details right now. Start from the top. Everything."

Isadora flipped over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "We were fighting-no surprise there. He was being all protective, acting like he had any right to be jealous about Drew. I was pissed. Like, really pissed. I was ready to walk out."

"And then?" Alexa pressed, practically buzzing with excitement.

"And then he just-he kissed me." Isadora's voice softened, and she could feel her heart beating faster just thinking about it. "It was out of nowhere, Lex. One second, we were yelling, and the next, his lips were on mine, and... God."

"Oh. My. God," Alexa gasped dramatically. "How was it? Was it as good as you remember? Wait, was it better?"

Isadora let out a deep sigh, pressing her fingers to her lips as if she could still feel him there. "It was... so good, Alexa. Like, I'm mad at how good it was. I forgot how much I missed his kisses. It was one of those kisses that makes you dizzy, you know? Like, everything just stopped, and it was only him."

"Yes, that's what I'm talking about! Girl, I'm getting goosebumps just listening to you. So what did you do?"

"I-I kissed him back," Isadora admitted, cringing a little as she covered her face. "I mean, what was I supposed to do? It's Nicholas. I couldn't stop myself. It was like all the reasons I was mad at him just... vanished."

Alexa's laughter turned into a soft giggle. "Oh, honey, you're so screwed. That man has you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he?"

Isadora groaned. "I hate that you're right. But it's not just the kiss. It's everything. It brought back all those feelings I've been trying to bury, and now I don't know what to do with them."

"Ugh, I knew it. I knew there was something still there!" Alexa said with a knowing tone. "And can we just take a second to appreciate the fact that he kissed you? Not some random girl, you. That says something."

"I don't know," Isadora murmured, her heart tightening. "What if it didn't mean anything to him? What if it was just because he was mad or frustrated?"

"Girl, stop," Alexa interrupted. "Nicholas does not kiss you out of frustration. You know him. If he kissed you like that, there's something real there. He wouldn't do it if he didn't still feel something. Trust me."

"Thanks, Lex. I appreciate it," Isadora said, her voice softening. The call ended with Alexa's upbeat encouragement lingering in the air, but Isadora couldn't shake the heaviness in her chest.

Tossing her phone onto the bed, she headed for the bathroom, hoping to clear her head. As she reached for her toothbrush, her phone buzzed again, vibrating insistently against the mattress. She paused, glancing over at it with a sigh.

It was probably another text from one of her friends-or worse, Tom, reminding her about the filming schedule. But as her eyes scanned the screen, her breath caught.

A notification from a gossip site flashed at the top:
❛ Caught Between Two Leading Men: Isadora Miller's Love Triangle Drama Heats Up ! ❜

Her heart sank as she tapped the notification, the article opening to reveal a photo of her and Drew from just a few days ago. They were walking together to the studio, his arm hovering too close to her, and the headline painted it like some torrid love affair.

"No, no, no..." she whispered under her breath, scrolling down the article. It was filled with speculation and insinuations, twisting every interaction with Drew into something romantic. And, of course, they couldn't resist dragging Nicholas into it, spinning their breakup as some kind of elaborate plot to keep her in the media's spotlight.

Her pulse quickened as she skimmed the words, her frustration building. The media had once again fabricated a story that couldn't be further from the truth. She and Drew were friends-nothing more. And Nicholas? That was a whole other mess she wasn't ready to deal with.

But before she could close out of the article, her thumb drifted lower.

The comments section.

Her stomach churned as she tapped on it, despite knowing exactly what she'd find. The hate poured in like a tidal wave, hitting her with its brutal honesty.

"She's obviously just using Drew to make Nicholas jealous. What a train wreck."

"She was never good enough for Nicholas, and now she's dragging Drew down with her. Someone get her a PR team."

Her hands trembled as she read comment after comment, each one more vicious than the last. They didn't know her. They didn't know anything about what had really happened between her and Nicholas, but the way they spoke... it was like they had already decided she was the villain.

She dropped her phone onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the words echoed in her head. The knot in her stomach tightened, a lump forming in her throat. It didn't matter how many times she told herself not to care about what strangers said online-it still hurt. It always hurt.

She was never good enough for Nicholas anyway.

That one lingered longer than the others. She let out a shaky breath, her hands curling into fists as she pushed herself up from the bed. Her chest felt tight, like she was holding something in, something heavy and unspoken. And it wasn't just the comments or the rumors.

It was him. Nicholas.

Last day's kiss kept replaying in her mind, like a scene she couldn't fast-forward through. She could still feel the pressure of his lips on hers, the way the heat between them had exploded in a moment of vulnerability. It had caught her off guard, stirring up feelings she thought she'd buried deep.

Her fingers grazed her lips absentmindedly, the memory still raw. Was it anger that had made him kiss her, or something else? She didn't know, but her pulse quickened every time she thought about it. How was she supposed to face him today, after that? Would he pretend like nothing had happened? Did he regret it?

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stand. Today was the first day of filming, and she had to push through. She didn't have the luxury of wallowing in her emotions, no matter how much they pressed against her ribs. Brushing her hair back with a frustrated swipe, she moved toward the mirror, trying to refocus.

Just get through the day.

But even as she straightened her posture, applied her makeup, and tried to block out the noise, she couldn't fully shake the nagging thoughts. Would Nicholas have seen the rumors? Did he think the same thing? That she was trying to manipulate the situation, using Drew as a pawn?

Her eyes darkened as she pulled her jacket over her shoulders. She wasn't about to let them-any of them-tear her down. Not today. With one last glance at her phone, still vibrating with notifications from all the chaos, she grabbed her bag and left her apartment, determined to face whatever the day threw at her.

She stepped out into the crisp morning air, the familiar chill of autumn brushing against her skin as she locked the door behind her. She pulled her jacket a little tighter around herself, mind still swirling with the hateful comments she'd just read online. They played on a loop in her head-vicious remarks, twisted speculation about her relationships with both Drew and Nicholas. The media had latched onto the idea of a love triangle, and people were more than happy to add their own cruel narratives.

She shook her head, stuffing her phone into her bag with a sigh. As if her life wasn't already complicated enough. She needed to focus on work, not on the strangers hiding behind their screens.

Isadora walked down the street, her steps quick and distracted. It wasn't until she reached the corner, waiting for the light to change, that she noticed something odd. Her fingers brushed the collar of her jacket, and a strange familiarity settled over her. The leather was soft, worn in a way that felt... too familiar.

Her heart gave a sudden jolt as realization hit. This wasn't her jacket.

She stopped mid-step, her fingers tightening around the collar as she looked down. It was Nicholas'. The same leather jacket he'd left at her place months ago, back when everything between them had been different. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she just stared at it, as if it might disappear if she looked away.

The jacket smelled faintly of him-leather mixed with the faintest trace of his cologne. The memories came rushing back before she could stop them. Late nights on her couch, him draping it over her shoulders when she was cold, teasing her about how she always stole his clothes. She swallowed hard, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.

She'd grabbed the jacket without thinking, too distracted by the chaos in her head. And now here she was, wrapped up in something that felt too close, too personal. She considered going back inside, swapping it for something else. But a part of her-stubborn, maybe even a little defiant-refused.

She swallowed again, quickly shaking off the realization as she continued toward the studio. The comments, the kiss, the jacket-it was all too much. But she was determined to stay focused. She had to. Tugging the jacket tighter, she straightened her back and continued walking, determined to face whatever the day had in store for her.

The street leading up to the building felt quieter than usual, with only the distant hum of traffic filling the early morning air. But as she neared the set, the familiar buzz of paparazzi waiting by the entrance broke through her brief moment of peace.

Her heart sank as the flashes started before she was even close. They had spotted her. Tightening her grip on the strap of her bag, she quickened her pace, trying to steel herself for what was waiting ahead.

"Isadora! What's going on between you and Drew?"

"Are you back with Nicholas?"

The relentless questions began to circle, pushing her into a whirlwind of doubt she had no interest in entertaining. Her steps faltered for a moment, feeling the weight of the rumors pressing against her like a wall she couldn't break through.

Just as the crowd grew more aggressive, pushing closer, she felt a sudden warmth at her side. Nicholas. She hadn't even noticed him approach, but there he was, silent and serious, his hand slipping instinctively to her shoulder as if it had always belonged there.

The grip was firm but not harsh, like the touch of someone who still knew her well. He didn't look at her, didn't say a word. With one smooth movement, he guided her through the swarm of flashing lights and cameras, his body shielding hers, making her feel grounded in the chaos. It wasn't affection. It was reflex-muscle memory from when they used to be something more.

Isadora's breath caught in her throat as the memories rushed back-the way his arm used to settle around her in moments like this, the unspoken comfort he always gave her in public when the world felt too close.

But now, it was different. His touch felt hollow, mechanical. A job, not an act of care. Still, her body responded out of habit, leaning into him, her heart betraying her in the worst way.

The entrance to the building loomed ahead, and without missing a beat, Nicholas's hand slid down to her waist, guiding her through the last wave of photographers and into the safety of the building. As they stepped inside the building, Nicholas's arm lingered on her waist for just a moment longer before he let go, a muscle memory of when things were simpler between them. The coolness of the lobby greeted them, but it didn't do much to calm the sudden heat she felt from his proximity. Isadora tugged at the jacket absentmindedly, trying to ground herself in anything other than the fact that Nicholas had just been so close.

They stood there for a moment, the buzz of the world outside fading into a distant hum.

Nicholas's gaze lingered on her, his expression shifting from distant to something almost amused. His eyes drifted down to the jacket, a spark of recognition flickering in them. "That jacket..." he started, his voice breaking the silence between them. "Seems familiar."

Isadora's pulse quickened. Her fingers clenched the edges of the jacket, and she tried to maintain her nonchalant demeanor. "It's just a jacket," she said, her voice a bit too casual, betraying her growing nervousness.

Nicholas's lips curled into a knowing smirk, clearly unconvinced. "Just a jacket?" he repeated, stepping closer. His fingers, warm and precise, reached toward the collar. "Mind if I check something?"

Before she could protest, his fingers gently brushed her skin as he flipped the collar. Isadora held her breath, her heart stuttering as Nicholas revealed the hidden label sewn into the inside. His smirk deepened, and he lifted the collar slightly, reading aloud in a soft, teasing voice, "Oh what's there ? Nicky with a big big pink heart."

The word hung in the air between them, and Isadora's stomach twisted. Oh no. How had she forgotten? She'd sewed that herself ages ago, when Nicholas had bought the jacket, joking about him losing things too easily. Back then, it was a sweet inside joke-now it felt like a piece of her past had come back to haunt her.

Nicholas looked at her, his brow raised, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You forgot about this, didn't you?"

Isadora could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, a soft blush betraying her attempt to stay composed. She cleared her throat, fumbling for words. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh really?" His voice was laced with amusement as he turned the label toward her. "Because it looks an awful lot like my jacket. You know, the one with my name stitched into it." He tapped the small patch lightly with his finger, grinning.

Isadora could barely meet his eyes, the embarrassment clear in the way she fidgeted with the sleeves. "I just... needed something to wear," she muttered, her voice quieter now. "I didn't even notice it."

Nicholas let out a soft chuckle, his eyes never leaving hers. "You just happened to grab the jacket with 'Nicky' sewn in the collar?" He tilted his head, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "Total coincidence, right?"

Her cheeks flushed even deeper. She pulled the jacket tighter around herself, as if trying to hide inside it. "Don't make it a big deal," she mumbled, feeling the weight of his teasing. "It's just a jacket."

But Nicholas wasn't done. He chuckled again, the sound low and warm. "Come on, admit it. You missed me," he teased, the smirk still playing on his lips. "Or at least my jacket."

Isadora huffed, though her face betrayed her embarrassment. "Don't flatter yourself. I just grabbed it because it was there."

His smile softened, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. "Sure, sure," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "You can deny it all you want."

"Don't get any ideas," she warned, still flustered.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a smirk, before adding playfully, "But if you ever miss me, you know where to find more jackets."

She gave him a half-hearted glare, though the tension between them seemed to shift slightly-less sharp, more tinged with the weight of their shared history. Isadora adjusted the jacket around her, fingers brushing the fabric almost absentmindedly. It felt strange, wearing something that belonged to Nicholas again. She could feel his presence beside her, no longer cold or distant. There was something different now-something warmer in the way he looked at her.

Nicholas glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering on the jacket. For the first time in months, he didn't feel the sharp edges of frustration and hurt when he looked at her. Instead, a quiet warmth crept in, softening his usual guarded demeanor.

They walked in silence for a while, neither of them feeling the need to fill the space with words. It was almost like slipping into an old rhythm, the kind that had once been so easy between them. The awkwardness hadn't disappeared completely, but it was no longer heavy and suffocating. Beneath it, there was something familiar, something that made Nicholas's chest tighten.

Seeing her in his jacket brought back memories he hadn't allowed himself to think about in a long time. He remembered the day he had asked her to sew his name into it, just for fun, never expecting it to mean anything. But now, it felt like a thread connecting them to the past-a past when things were simpler, when their arguments weren't plastered across headlines, and they could just be Nicholas and Isadora.

For a brief moment, Nicholas let his guard slip. The memories rushed in-the way she used to laugh, the warmth of her presence, the comfort of being with someone who understood him. It was all too familiar, and it was impossible to ignore how much he missed it, even if he didn't want to admit it.

His heart tugged in two directions: part of him wanted to keep his distance, to protect himself from getting hurt again. But another part, quieter but persistent, wanted to hold onto this warmth, this moment where it felt like they hadn't lost everything.

He couldn't resist breaking the silence, his voice soft, almost teasing.

"You always wore it better than me."

Isadora glanced at him, her eyes widening slightly at the unexpected compliment. She hadn't heard that tone from him in so long-gentle, almost playful. A small smile tugged at her lips.

"Are you feeling a bit nostalgic?"

The silence returned, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable. Their steps were in sync, their hands occasionally brushing against each other. For a fleeting moment, it felt like old times, like they were just Nicholas and Isadora, without the weight of everything that had happened.

But Nicholas could still feel the weight, lurking beneath the surface. He knew this moment couldn't last, but for now, he let it linger. He let himself enjoy the brief reprieve from the tension that had been building between them for months.

As they neared the set, the noise of the crew and equipment grew louder, pulling them back into reality. Nicholas slipped his hands into his pockets, glancing at Isadora one last time before they stepped into the busy environment of the shoot.

For just a few minutes, it had felt like nothing had changed between them. But now, the day loomed ahead, and the fragile peace they had found began to fade, making way for the inevitable.

The crew was scattered around the set, adjusting cameras, checking lights, and calling out instructions. It was a well-oiled machine, and today, they were the center of it. Nicholas felt a knot form in his stomach, his hands still tucked into his pockets as they walked side by side. He couldn't stop stealing glances at Isadora, even though he knew he should keep his focus on the day's work.

Isadora, on the other hand, felt her pulse quicken as they approached the chaos. She kept her eyes forward, her body rigid with tension. The memory of Nicholas's kiss still lingered on her lips, and she wasn't sure how to handle it. How could they go back to playing professional co-stars when everything felt so personal?

"Nicholas! Isadora! Makeup's ready for you," a voice called out, cutting through the noise.

They exchanged a brief, almost awkward look before heading toward the room. The space was small, lined with mirrors and makeup artists prepping brushes and palettes. Nicholas stepped inside first, taking a seat in one of the chairs as one of the artists approached him.

Isadora followed, sitting a few chairs away from him. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her hands resting in her lap as the makeup artist began working on her. Her skin tingled under the brush, but her mind was elsewhere. She kept replaying moments from last night, trying to read into what the kiss had meant-if anything.

It was as if the air between them had changed. Every movement, every glance felt loaded with unspoken words. She could feel Nicholas's presence just feet away, and it was driving her insane.

Nicholas tried to focus on the makeup artist chatting about something he wasn't really listening to. His thoughts kept drifting back to Isadora, wondering if she was thinking about last night too. He could still feel the warmth of her body pressed against his, the way her lips had responded to his.

Once they were both ready, the tension in the room was palpable. Nicholas stood up first, running a hand through his freshly styled hair, and glanced at her through the mirror. The unspoken hung heavy between them as they walked out of the room and toward the set, side by side but worlds apart.

As the director called action, the room seemed to shrink, pulling Nicholas and Isadora into a moment that felt strangely intimate, despite the cameras and crew watching their every move. Nicholas, now fully in character as Ben, strode into the set apartment, looking justifiably annoyed, his hands tucked into his pockets as he spotted Isadora-Andie-fiddling with the stereo.

"Andie, what are you doing?" Nicholas grumbled, his voice carrying that perfect blend of exasperation and disbelief. He stepped closer, his brows knit together as if he couldn't quite believe the scene unfolding in front of him.

Isadora didn't respond immediately. Instead, she flashed him a mischievous grin, and with an exaggerated flourish, she pressed play on the stereo. Carly Simon's "You're So Vain" blared through the speakers, filling the space with its unmistakable melody.

Nicholas's expression tightened. "You've got to be kidding me."

But Isadora was already dancing around the room, her arms swaying, her lips mouthing the words dramatically, as though she were on stage at some concert. "You walked into the party, like you were walking onto a yacht..." she sang, teasingly, deliberately off-key, her voice loud and playful.

Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest, trying-and failing-to suppress a grin. "Seriously, Andie? This is what we're doing now?"

Isadora twirled around, grabbing a random pillow from the couch and tossing it onto the floor for no reason other than to make Ben's life a little more chaotic. She moved closer to him, pointing directly at his chest as she belted out the next line, "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you!"

Nicholas shook his head, eyes narrowing in mock frustration. "Okay, enough," he said, trying to stay in control, but there was a flicker of amusement in his voice. He took a step forward, as if he might wrestle the remote from her hand, but Isadora darted away, spinning on her heels.

"You love it!" Isadora called over her shoulder, swaying her hips dramatically to the music. She began to dance even more theatrically, making a big show of singing the words directly to him, over-the-top and completely unhinged in the best possible way.

Nicholas watched her with that perfect blend of frustration and reluctant admiration, his lips twitching like he was about to break character and laugh. "Andie," he warned, but there was no real bite to his words. He was caught in the moment, the ridiculousness of it, and the undeniable chemistry between them that made the scene electric.

Isadora kept dancing, making her way around the apartment like she owned the place. She grabbed random objects-a coaster, a lamp, his jacket off the chair-and moved them in bizarre places, just to mess with him, just to see how far she could push him. All the while, she kept singing, louder and louder. "Aaaand other girls dreamed that they'd be Ben's partner ! They'd be Ben's partner"

Nicholas couldn't help it-he laughed, just a little, before catching himself. His character, Ben, was supposed to be annoyed, but there was something about the way Isadora was playing Andie, with that wild, carefree energy, that made it impossible to stay mad.

"You're insane," he muttered, shaking his head as he leaned back against the couch, watching her with a mix of disbelief and something softer, something unspoken that flickered beneath the surface.

Isadora winked at him, spinning again, her arms wide as she sang, her voice playful and teasing. "But you love it," she teased again, her eyes dancing as they locked with his.

The tension between them crackled, alive in the space between their characters. It wasn't just about the scene anymore-it was about them, about Nicholas and Isadora, and all the things left unsaid between them since that kiss.

As Carly Simon's voice swelled, Isadora jumped up onto the couch, standing above Nicholas now, her arms raised high as she belted out the final lines. "Don't you? Don't you?"

Nicholas looked up at her, his expression softening for just a moment, as if he'd forgotten where they were-forgotten that there were cameras rolling, lights flashing, people watching. It was just the two of them, locked in this strange, silly moment, with something deeper simmering just beneath the surface.

As soon as the director called, "Cut!" the magic of the scene seemed to evaporate. The playful energy that had flowed between Nicholas and Isadora only moments before dissipated like smoke. Nicholas took a step back, instinctively creating space between them, his face tightening. He pulled his hands from his pockets, the warmth they had shared while acting quickly being shoved aside.

His mind raced, replaying the scene in his head, but it wasn't the acting he was focused on-it was the feeling. For just a few minutes, he had allowed himself to believe the connection between them was real, that the tension wasn't scripted but genuine. The way her voice teased him, the look in her eyes-it had felt too close to something he wanted to be real. But it wasn't. It couldn't be. They were just playing roles.

This was all an act.

He reminded himself that the kiss they shared last night, the glances today-it was part of the fallout from their messy breakup. But they had a job to do, and blurring the lines between reality and acting wasn't safe. He could already feel his emotions becoming a tangled mess. It was too much. Too complicated. Too risky. So, he pulled back, allowing the cold, distant version of himself to take over again. The one that kept him safe.

Nicholas didn't dare look at Isadora as he walked away from the scene, rolling his shoulders as if shedding the weight of what had just happened. He couldn't afford to let himself feel anything on set-not now, not ever.

Isadora noticed the change instantly, as if a door had slammed shut between them. One moment, there was warmth, laughter, something familiar lingering between them. And then, just like that, it was gone. The easy connection they had during the scene, the teasing glances and shared smiles-vanished. In its place was the old Nicholas, the distant, brooding one who kept her at arm's length.

Her smile faltered, and she felt a twist of confusion in her stomach. What had changed so suddenly? They had been fine just minutes ago, sharing an unspoken bond like they always had when things were good. But now, he wouldn't even look at her.

She watched him walk away, retreating back into himself, and the frustration bubbled up inside her. She wanted to chase after him, to demand an explanation, to ask why he kept shutting her out. But instead, she stayed rooted in place, her heart sinking a little as she realized the warmth they'd shared was just another fleeting moment.

author's note !!!

do you see the vision ? 🙏
nicholas is a cutie pookie insicure of everything and he don't understand that isadora WOULD crawl back to him IMMEDIATELY

thank you beyoncé for letting me write this chapter