Miggy's POV
I wasn't sure why I was getting more nervous the closer we got. My hands were cold but sweaty, and my stomach had been doing flips for the past ten minutes. I tried my best to hide it from Meynard—I wasn't even sure what exactly I was nervous about.
"Bro, are you okay?" he asked, glancing at me while driving.
I muttered under my breath, "Great, I thought I was hiding it well."
"Huh?"
I sat up straighter. "Yeah. I'm fine. Why?"
"You look tense. Did you eat something weird? Or maybe the aircon's temperature not enough for you?" He pointed to my head with one hand while steering with the other. "You're sweating."
I forced a chuckle. "No, no. Just… hot, I guess."
"Hot?" He raised a brow. "The AC's on full blast. I'm almost freezing here."
"Really? Oh, maybe I'm just used to warmer settings." I pretended to fiddle with the air vents.
"You sure you're not sick or something? We can stop and get you medicine if you need."
I almost admitted, "No need. I'm just nervous. Probably about her." But I swallowed it down. "No, really. I'm okay."
"You sure?"
"Promise."
When we finally parked, my heartbeat got worse—so loud I felt like it might give me away. I suddenly felt lightheaded, like I wasn't even in my body.
"I'll just go ahead," I told Meynard, quickly stepping out before he could say anything more. "I'll check something really quick."
I didn't really need the restroom—I just wanted to look in the mirror. Maybe wash my face. Anything to calm down.
"Relax. Don't be too anxious. You've seen her before. It's nothing new. Be normal. Breathe."
I stared at my reflection, practicing deep breaths like I was some teenager about to see his crush for the first time. "Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale." I even chuckled to myself. "Get a grip, man," I whispered. "You're not in high school."
After a few more moments, I stepped out, a bit more collected.
As I approached the set, I was greeted warmly. "Good morning, sir!"
"Good morning. Have we started already?"
"We're just finishing up the lighting and set adjustments," Neri explained.
She offered me a seat beside her. "We're watching some of the audition clips while waiting."
"Thanks," I said, but my eyes were drawn immediately to the monitor. It was her audition video.
"Relax, Miggy. It's just a video. Don't freak out". I glanced around, checking if anyone noticed me staring. Everyone seemed preoccupied. Meynard was beside Neri, also watching the videos.
A few minutes later, I saw her arrive on set. My pulse jumped. The director approached and started giving her instructions. I couldn't look away—she looked so composed. Natural. Effortlessly beautiful.
I tried to play it cool, standing and pretending to observe the production team. I asked Neri, "What time did she get here?"
"No exact time. Probably just now. She knows we're on a tight schedule."
"Got it." I moved away as she chatted with a man I assumed was her manager. "Must be who Meynard mentioned earlier."
"Okay! Silence, please! We're ready to go!" the director announced.
I returned to my seat near the camera. As the shoot began, everyone focused on her. I allowed myself to watch freely—finally, I wasn't the only one staring.
"She really is beautiful." Her nose was small but well-defined, her eyes wide and expressive, lashes thick and natural. Her lips were a soft pink, and her skin looked almost translucent, smooth with faint freckles on her shoulders. She wore a towel-like tube top, her hair tied back with a headband. It didn't hide her—if anything, it showed more of her.
She was my type. Maybe more than that. "Wait, what am I thinking?"
But then again, they say if you want something, you have to claim it. So, I'll claim it: "Someday, she'll be my girl."
I laughed quietly at my own foolishness—just as Meynard nudged me.
"The boss is here."
I shot up to greet our boss, shaking his hand and leading him a few steps away so we could talk without interrupting the shoot.
"How's everything?"
"All going smoothly, sir. They're almost done. I can request a preview if you want to check the raw footage."
"No need. I'll watch the final cut at the presentation before the launch. I'm just here for a quick visit. Got a lunch with the family."
"Yes, sir."
"I rarely drop by like this, but I was nearby. Did the team arrange lunch for everyone?"
"Yes, sir. Neri handled it."
"Good. I trust you with these shoots—you've always delivered. Keep it up." He patted my shoulder before heading back to his car.
Once I returned, the shoot had wrapped and the team was packing up.
"Done?" I asked Meynard.
"Just finished. The director said no retakes needed."
"You want to see the playback?"
I nodded, following him to the monitor.
"Sir," the director greeted, "your choice of model was perfect. She nailed everything I asked—no hesitation, very professional."
"That's great. The client's eager to see it."
We watched the raw footage. She was a natural—charming, relaxed, and captivating on camera. A few of the staff around me murmured their approval.
When it ended, everyone headed to the food table, but I didn't see her there.
"Sir, go ahead and eat." one of the staff offered.
"I'm good, thank you. Let everyone eat first." I turned to Neri. "Make sure everyone gets their share."
"Yes, sir. Gabie's just changing. She and her manager will join us shortly."
A few minutes later, they arrived. Gabie glanced around then called, "Jhay, here."
They approached our table, and Neri introduced them. "Sir Miguel, this is Gabie's manager, Jhay."
"Nice to meet you, sir," Jhay said, offering his hand.
"Glad to meet you, too."
"And this," Neri added, "is Gabie—our new endorser."
"Nice to meet you, sir," Gabie greeted, smiling shyly.
"My pleasure. You did great today. Keep it up."
I considered shaking hands, but my palms were still cold and maybe clammy. "Don't embarrass yourself, Miggy."
"Let's eat, sir," Jhay offered.
"I'm good, thanks. You go ahead."
"Sir, there's still a lot left." Neri added cheerfully.
"Come on, sir," Andrew chimed in.
The table was full, and with everyone inviting me, I finally gave in and sat down—right next to Gabie.
"Inhale, exhale. Don't let them see you sweating."
Meynard was on my right. Gabie on my left. I sat rigid, unsure where to look. She ate quietly, answering her manager in soft tones. I wanted to say something, anything, but the words stayed lodged in my throat.
"One conversation. Just one. Why is this so hard?"
Gabie's POV
"Is he seriously sitting next to me?"
Oops. That scent again. Damn. And now that I'm really looking—he's actually handsome. Not the loud kind of handsome, but the lowkey, clean, quiet kind that sneaks up on you. Ugh. This is dangerous.
"Besh, Mr. Handsome is beside you. He's so yummy. And that fragrance," my best friend whispered, nudging me.
I almost choked on my drink. I turned to him and hissed, "Will you stop saying things like that? Someone might hear you."
"But it's true!" he giggled.
"Yes, but can we not talk about it right now? I need to focus—I'm too conscious already," I whispered back, half-laughing, half-panicking.
He smirked. "Conscious? Why? Is he your crush?"
I gave him a sharp glare with a sarcastic smile, trying not to draw attention. "Please don't. Let's talk about that later when it's just us."
I was seriously nervous someone might overhear him. "Dead. I'm in trouble."
"Fine, but you owe me juicy update later," he said.
"Deal," I replied quickly, anything to shut him up before he embarrassed me further.
I glanced at the guy beside me—he was eating so quietly. Barely touched his food. Maybe he wasn't hungry… or maybe he was just too polite to refuse the invite. I mean, a lot of people were offering him food earlier. "Maybe he didn't want to say no."
Unlike me. I was starving. Shame or no shame, hunger is real.
He really does seem like a decent boss. When the team and some of the production staff were teasing us earlier—loudly, at that—he didn't get annoyed. He didn't scold anyone or give them that classic serious boss glare. You could tell they'd been working together for a while by how casual they were around him. But he didn't join in either. He just sat there, eating quietly. Calm. Classy.
He looked like someone who had money—but didn't flaunt it. He wore a plain blue polo shirt, and faded jeans. No flashy labels or designer logos. I couldn't see his shoes under the table, but I stopped myself from sneaking a peek. I didn't want him thinking I was weird or anything.
"Okay, that's dumb. Why am I even thinking about this?" If I got caught looking at his shoes, I'd die from embarrassment. And for what?
His skin was fair and smooth, like he didn't do manual labor. His hands looked clean and well cared for. He wore a black leather watch—nothing else. No rings, no bracelets. His hair was neatly trimmed and combed back. And the scent—wow. Masculine but not overpowering. Subtle. Classy.
I wanted to look at his face properly. But I was too scared he'd catch me staring. "I'm so shameless. They already made me sit beside him, and now I'm staring at him?"
"Delete! Erase! Stop it, Gabie." This is not okay. I need to get a grip. I can't keep thinking about him like this. I swear, Jhay's obsession with dreamy bosses is rubbing off on me. This is getting dangerous.
Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. My curiosity got the better of me.
"So… you're not like other strict bosses, huh?" I asked carefully.
He looked a little surprised by my question, like I caught him off guard. He paused for a second before answering.
"I don't mind if they have fun or relax—after work. What matters to me is that they take their jobs seriously during work hours. That way, the quality stays high," he said, looking directly at me.
"Oh no. He's even more handsome up close." My breath hitched a little. I had to look away.
"Lucky them to have a boss like you," I said with a small smile.
He chuckled softly. "Well, it depends. I can be strict too—when needed."
"I guess that's fair," I murmured. "I just hope that when I start working, even if my boss is strict, at least they're fair. I don't want to get blamed for things that aren't my fault."
He nodded. "Are you still studying?"
"Yes," I replied shyly. "Isn't it obvious? Do I still look like a student? Or did I mature a bit lately?"
"Don't worry. Just do your job well, and I'm sure your future boss will respect you," he said kindly.
I smiled. "I hope so."
I didn't expect to have an actual conversation with him today. And I didn't expect it to be… nice. He didn't treat me like a random extra, or someone who didn't matter. He listened. He responded like I had something worthwhile to say.
Eventually, he and some of the others left together after we finished eating. I'm still not sure what his role is exactly. He's clearly important—everyone treats him with respect—but I always see him chatting casually with the team. He's not liked the usual aloof higher-ups. He's… present.
On our way home, my best friend and I couldn't stop smiling. Despite the traffic—it was a typical Saturday crowd with employees coming off their half-day shifts and college students cramming into the vans—I didn't mind. I didn't feel tired at all.
I just kept replaying that little conversation in my head. His calm voice. His smile. The way he actually looked at me when I spoke.
"Oh no, Gabie. This might be serious."