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Hawaii

The bustling set fell silent as Lucas emerged from his tent, his right hand swathed in white gauze. He flexed his fingers gingerly, wincing as he made his way towards the crew gathered near the craft services table.

Jennifer rushed to his side, her brow furrowed with concern. "Let me see," she whispered, gently cradling his bandaged hand.

Murmurs rippled through the crew. A makeup artist whispered to her colleague, "Talk about commitment to the craft." Her friend nodded, adding, "Yeah, but what if he can't shoot for a week?"

Lucas overheard snippets of their conversation as he made his way to a secluded corner. There, a production assistant waited with a bucket of ice. Without a word, Lucas plunged his throbbing hand into the icy water, closing his eyes as the cold numbed the pain.

As he stood there, Lucas caught the admiring glances of some crew members, their eyes filled with a mix of awe and concern. He offered them a smile.

Jennifer appeared at his side again, this time with a bottle of water and some painkillers. "You don't always have to be the tough guy, you know," she said softly, worry evident in her eyes.

Lucas just shrugged, his good hand accepting the pills. "It's what the scene needed," he replied, his voice low. "Sometimes, you've got to bleed for your art."

Jennifer squeezed Lucas's uninjured hand, her eyes searching his face. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it, offering a small smile instead. With a gentle pat on his shoulder, she turned and walked towards the set, her ponytail swinging as she went.

Lucas leaned against a nearby equipment crate, his bandaged hand resting on his lap. He watched intently as Jennifer took her mark, the cameras rolling. His eyes darted between the actors and the director, studying their movements and expressions.

As the scene wrapped, a group of extras milled about, some stealing glances at Lucas. One young woman, her period costume slightly askew, kept looking over her shoulder at him.

Lucas pushed himself off the crate and approached the group. "Hey there," he said, his voice warm. "First time on a big production?"

The woman's eyes widened. "Y-yes," she stammered. "It's all so... overwhelming."

Lucas nodded, launching into a story about his first day on a set. Soon, the group was laughing, the initial awkwardness melting away.

Over the next two weeks, Lucas became a fixture on set, even when he wasn't in a scene. He'd huddle with the director, gesticulating with his good hand as they discussed character motivations. During breaks, he'd pore over the script with the writers, suggesting tweaks to dialogue.

"Lucas, what do you think about this line?" the head writer would ask, and Lucas would furrow his brow in concentration before offering his thoughts.

With the crew, he was equally engaged. As the Hawaiian leg of the shoot approached, the set buzzed with excitement. Lucas helped Jennifer pack her trailer, their laughter drifting across the lot. When they boarded the plane, he was the last one on, having stopped to thank each crew member personally.

---

The plane touched down with a gentle bump, and a wave of excitement rippled through the cabin. As the doors opened, the warm, fragrant Hawaiian air rushed in, carrying the promise of sun-soaked days and balmy nights.

The cast and crew filed into a line of waiting vans, their chatter a mix of jet-lagged mumbles and eager anticipation. Lucas helped Jennifer into their van, then slid in beside her, their shoulders touching.

As they wound their way along the coastal road, Jennifer's eyes grew wide. She pressed her face against the window, drinking in the sight of turquoise waves crashing against golden sand. A childlike grin spread across her face.

Lucas watched her, amused. He leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered, "We're not here for vacation. Remember that."

Jennifer turned to him, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I know..." she said, but her gaze drifted back to the beach longingly.

The van convoy pulled into the circular drive of Turtle Bay Resort, a sprawling complex of low-rise buildings nestled among swaying palms. Staff members in bright aloha shirts swarmed out to greet them, leis in hand.

"Aloha! Welcome to Turtle Bay," a smiling woman said as she draped fragrant orchid leis around Lucas and Jennifer's necks.

The lobby was a flurry of activity as room keys were distributed and luggage was sorted. Lucas stood to the side, taking it all in, when a tall man with weathered skin and kind eyes approached him.

"Aloha," the man said, extending his hand. "I'm Kekoa. I'll be your cultural advisor for the shoot."

Lucas shook his hand warmly. "It's great to meet you, Kekoa. We're looking forward to learning from you."

As they spoke, the rest of the cast gravitated towards them, forming a loose circle. Kekoa began to explain the significance of various Hawaiian traditions they'd be incorporating into the film.

Jennifer sidled up to Lucas, still sneaking glances out the windows at the beach beyond. He caught her eye and gave her a knowing smirk. She elbowed him playfully, then turned her attention back to Kekoa, ready to immerse herself in the culture of their temporary island home.

***

(A day later)

The Hawaiian sun beat down on the pristine beach, casting a golden glow across the sand. The cast, clad in colorful swimwear, dotted the shoreline like exotic birds.

Lucas and Jennifer made their way to the water's edge, toes sinking into the warm sand. An instructor in a red rashguard waited for them, clipboard in hand.

"Alright, let's start with some basic—" the instructor began, but his words were cut short as Lucas suddenly sprinted into the surf. With a graceful arc, he dove beneath an incoming wave.

Jennifer's mouth fell open as she watched Lucas slice through the water with powerful, practiced strokes. He emerged several yards out, shaking water from his hair like a sleek seal.

The instructor's eyebrows shot up. "Well, I'll be," he muttered, then called out, "You're quite good! You've learned swimming, huh?"

Lucas swam back, standing up in the waist-deep water. He grinned, droplets cascading down his toned chest. "Yeah, I've been learning," he said with a casual shrug. As the words left his mouth, he felt a fleeting sense of amusement. If only they knew that his 'swimming lessons' had taken place entirely within the confines of his mind...

Jennifer eyed him suspiciously. "Since when?" she mouthed silently.

The instructor chuckled, shaking his head. "Looks like I don't even need to teach you at all."

Lucas's smile turned sheepish. "Oh no, I still have a lot to learn."

"Like what?" the instructor joked, his eyes twinkling. "Like peeing secretly while swimming?"

Lucas and Jennifer burst into laughter, the sound carried away by the sea breeze. Lucas winked at them both. "Haha, I'm doing it right now."

Jennifer shrieked in mock disgust, splashing water at Lucas. He retaliated, and soon they were engaged in a full-on water fight, their laughter mingling with the crash of the waves.

***

A crew member approached, clipboard in hand. "Lucas, Jennifer, time to suit up for the scene," she called.

The pair exchanged glances, nodding in acknowledgment. They made their way across the warm sand, weaving between equipment and bustling crew members.

At the edge of the set, two large white tents billowed in the ocean breeze. With a quick wave to each other, Lucas and Jennifer ducked into their respective changing areas.

***

Lucas emerged from his wardrobe tent, adjusting the cuffs of his sleek black swimsuit. The beach was alive with activity, crew members scurrying about with equipment while actors lounged in the sun. His eyes scanned the shoreline, finally landing on a familiar figure perched atop a large, smooth rock.

Jennifer sat there, her legs dangling over the edge, surrounded by a few other cast members. Their laughter carried on the sea breeze, a carefree sound that seemed at odds with the tension Lucas suddenly felt in the air.

He noticed a group of locals gesturing towards the rock, their faces etched with concern. Frowning, Lucas made his way over to Kekoa, who stood observing the scene with a tight-lipped expression.

"What's the matter?" Lucas asked, his voice low.

Kekoa sighed, his weathered face creasing with disappointment. He gestured towards Jennifer and the others. "That rock is sacred," he explained, his tone heavy with respect. "In our culture, we never disrespect such places by sitting on them. But look at them," he shook his head, "they are not respecting our beliefs."

Lucas's frown deepened as he looked back at the laughing group, suddenly seeing the scene through new eyes. The carefree attitude he'd admired moments ago now seemed thoughtless and disrespectful.

"Is that so..." Lucas murmured, his mind already racing with how to address the situation without causing a scene.

Lucas approached Jennifer, his expression a mix of concern and determination. He reached out, gently touching her arm. "Jen, we should probably move from here," he said, his voice low and earnest.

Jennifer looked up, surprise flickering across her face. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you're buying into local superstitions," she teased, a playful lilt in her voice.

Lucas shook his head, his eyes serious. "It's not about superstition. This rock... it's sacred to the Hawaiians. Sitting on it is disrespectful to their culture and beliefs."

Jennifer's smile faded as realization dawned. "Oh," she breathed, glancing around. "I had no idea."

"I know," Lucas assured her. "But we're guests here. The last thing we want is to offend the locals or create tension on set."

Jennifer nodded, quickly standing up. "You're absolutely right. Thanks for letting me know."

As she brushed sand from her suit, Lucas grinned mischievously. "Here, let me help you ward off any lingering bad juju," he joked, playfully patting her back.

"Lucas!" Jennifer laughed, swatting his hand away. "You're ridiculous."

Their laughter carried across the beach, drawing the attention of a group of Hawaiian onlookers.

"Is that Lucas Knight?" one whispered excitedly. "Who's the girl he's with?"

Another fan squinted, recognition dawning. "That's Jennifer Lawrence. I think she's his rumoured girlfriend."

A murmur of disappointment rippled through the group. "His rumoured girlfriend? The one disrespecting our sacred sites?" someone muttered.

The onlookers continued to watch, their admiration for Lucas now mingled with conflicting feelings about the incident they'd witnessed.

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