Ch-81

"Cut! And with this, we finish the shooting of [Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban]!"

Hearing that announcement from Alfonso Cuaron, everybody on the set cheered out loud. There were applause, yells of happiness, hoots of enjoyment, and everything in between. Yet, all I could feel was the angry stare of one Emma Watson. The worst part was that she wasn't even looking in my direction. But I knew that if she wasn't hell-bent on ignoring me with all her might, and if looks could kill, I would be dead thousand times over.

This had been her demeanor for the past few days. She had been avoiding me mostly, and sometimes even others. I'm damn sure her performance in the last few days must have also suffered, but everyone was just eager to wrap up the film so we could go on a break. Maybe that's why Alfonso didn't call her out. Or maybe he did it in person where no one could see him berating her?

"Troy," Dad called out. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

I did a double take before nodding, "Oh yeah, sorry." I cleared my throat loudly before taking over the proverbial mic. "Everyone. Thank you for being a part of this film series. We couldn't have done what we did without input from all of you. I know this is not enough to show how much you mean to us and this franchise, so consider this a small token of our appreciation. To every adult member of the crew and speaking cast members, we wish to give you a check for a thousand pounds each as a Christmas gift."

Huge cheers rang out on the set. Given we had a little less than five hundred adults in the film, this expense alone would come out to be nearly half a million pounds, which was a lot. This was in addition to the Christmas bonuses that most of them would get from Warner Bros, so it was a nice payday for everyone involved in the film.

"For everyone below the age of 18," I continued with a grin when the cheers died down a little, "it's Santa time, so please come here to collect your gift."

I loved this part of Christmas a lot. Ever since the first movie, Dad and I had been playing a not-so-Secret Santa with the kids on set. I didn't count myself in the same category given my circumstances, but I felt a little bad for these kids who were growing up on a film set. Consider this a redemption of sorts, or whatever, but I loved seeing the smiles on everyone's faces when I handed them their gifts. Not everyone had a scene today, but all kids with at least a speaking role were called on set for the follow-up wrap party.

One by one, expensive toys, video games, designer clothes, shoes, and such things were handed over to them by yours truly until only the last gift remained. When I saw the name written on the last box, only then did I realize that Emma had yet to come over to me to get her gift. And given our last interaction, she probably wouldn't. She wasn't hurting for cash, so she could buy most things that money could buy for her.

I looked around to see if I could catch her eye, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Emma has gone back to her trailer," Evan said when I asked him. "She said she has a killer headache and won't be able to participate in the party. If you want, we can send over the gift to her chauffeur."

"No," I shot down the idea immediately. "You handle things here. I'll go over to her trailer and give her this gift myself."

Evan shrugged, "Alright. Just come back fast, bro. Steve told me that there would be dancing here later on, and I would love to see you dance."

"Yeah yeah," I waved him off before walking in the direction of our very own trailer park where everyone from the cast had a dedicated trailer.

Before I became an actor, I used to think that these trailers were some of the most wasteful things ever, but now I know that they are essential for an actor. It is the place where you can get ready, rest in between shots, revise your lines, and in the case of kids, study. On regular TV shows or theater sets, there are dedicated green rooms for this purpose, but as movie locations are never the same, it becomes difficult to do so. Take [Harry Potter] for example. Even if we were shooting in Leavesden Studios, different soundstages would be used for different scenes, and the distance between two soundstages is huge. Trailers can be moved and placed wherever is the closest parking spot to that particular soundstage. Like the one I'm moving towards to meet Emma.

Whatever useless fact I may spout at the moment to distract myself, I can't deny that I'm dreading this upcoming meeting. I loved Emma. A lot. Just like I loved Jamie and Evan and my parents. I can't bear the fact that she is upset because of me. I wasn't some dense teenager with no clue as to what was happening right in front of me, but the implications scared me. Emma was not even 13 at the moment, and I don't even know how old I should be considered. Is it grooming if something happens between us?

I don't know, and frankly, I'm a little afraid to find out because by this logic, I won't be able to be with any girl my age as long as I'm a teenager.

Finally reaching her door, I knocked once before opening it and entering the place.

"Hey!" She squeaked in surprise. "I could've been changi–" She stopped mid-sentence when she turned towards me and saw who it was that had entered her trailer. "Oh, it's you. I told Evan that I have a headache."

"No, your headache is right here," I pointed at myself.

She scoffed before taking a seat on the couch. I saw that unlike me, she had already changed out of her Hermione costume and had removed her makeup. In my opinion, she didn't need makeup. She was perfect just the way she was naturally.

"What do you want, Troy?" She asked bluntly after taking her seat.

"Your apology, to begin with," I said earnestly.

"Why?" She asked again. "You made it perfectly clear that I should stay away from you to not spread rumors, and that's exactly what I'm doing. So what's your problem now?"

I took a deep breath before saying softly, "I'm so sorry, Emma. I'm absolutely deeply sorry for how I behaved that day. Please forgive me." I joined my hands in a pleading motion and gave her my best puppy-dog eyes so that she would forgive me.

"But you weren't wrong, were you?" She shot back. "I would hate it if false rumors spread about us when nothing is going on here."

I closed my eyes in frustration. This was the crux of the conflict. She was mad because I didn't reciprocate her feelings. I think that even if I had let her down gently, she would still be angry at me right now.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and said, "I can't do this right now, Emma. We are both so young. You have your education to focus on in addition to this whole acting thing. It's better if we go back to how things were last week. Just forget anything happened. I'll do the same."

She didn't speak for a few moments, which worried me honestly. Silence, as they say, is sometimes more dangerous than harsh words.

"Say something," I prodded.

She sighed audibly before saying, "What did you think I had in mind that day?"

"I don't know," I confessed honestly. "I just didn't want those nasty tabloids to start some rumor about you. That's all I knew. I didn't–"

"I like you, Troy," she cut me off harshly. "Not as in some sibling love like you. I like you for who you are as a person, and I want more than what we have right now."

"Emma–"

"No," she cut me off again. "Let me speak now or I would lose the nerve." Only then did I notice that she was visibly shaking. With visible effort she controlled herself and said, "I like the Troy who makes me laugh and helps me without even needing to ask for it. I like him for his drive to be the best, yet treating fame as if it's nothing. I like him for his dashing good looks and awesome personality. Forget everything else. Forget the media, the paparazzi, and the fame. The fame is not real. We are. Don't forget that I'm just a girl standing in front of a boy, asking him to like her back."

Oh God. Is this really happening to me? My heart was beating faster than the engine of any machine ever built and I didn't know the reason for it. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that I would face such a dilemma this soon in my life. Yet, a big part of me wasn't opposed to the idea. I wanted to say so many things to her, so obviously I chose the dumbest thing to say.

"Did you just quote Julia Roberts from [Notting Hill]?"

"Ugh!" Emma almost screamed. "Get out, Troy! Get out of my trailer."

"Sorry, sorry," I moved forward with my hands raised in apology. "Wrong timing." Then I took out the box that was in my pocket ever since I left the wrap party. "Here. For you."

"I don't want anything until you give me an answer." She crossed her hands at the elbows.

"This is my answer," I said seriously. "Open it and find out."

The box was a long one, wrapped with beautiful blue gift paper. After some cajoling, Emma finally took the gift from me and tore open the wrapping paper impatiently, revealing a jewelry box with the words 'GRAFF' written outside in an elegant font. She gasped before even opening the box and then looked up at me in shock.

"It's not a ring," I said, gauging her reaction accurately.

Having received that warning, she relaxed a little and finally opened the box, which held a beautiful diamond necklace with two butterflies on it.

"It's beautiful," she said while raking a finger through the butterfly design.

"Turn it around," I said.

She did and was surprised to read the words engraved there.

'With love, from Troy.'

I was conflicted as hell. When I came here to apologize to Emma, never in all my years had I expected that she would propose a relationship to me. I could do many things at the moment, like running the hell away from this trailer, sitting Emma down and breaking down point by point why this was a bad idea, or even slowly showing her my bad side so much so that she forgets about dating me at all. Or the absolute best of them all–I could've said that she was like my little sister. We were at an age where it wouldn't be weird if I said that. The only problem was that I should've begun with it a few years ago when she didn't have feelings for me. Now it was too late for that.

Then there was the fact that Emma was the sweetest and most caring girl I've met in my life. Sometimes, she gets me in ways even my parents don't. Never once while talking to her had I felt as if I was talking to a child. She was a real-life Hermione with brains to back up her beauty. Also, I had heard somewhere that if a girl comes to you and confesses her feelings for you, that is the best girl you can get in your life. With that thought in mind, I bridged the gap between us and put both my hands on her shoulders.

"Dad wanted to buy something generic for everyone, but I insisted that I'd choose your gift personally. Because I wanted to," words started flowing out of me of their own accord, as if someone had cast an Imperius curse on me. "I don't just like you, Emma. I love you and will probably continue loving you forever. I'm not in love with you, and I honestly believe that we are too young to 'be in love' with anyone, but if you'd like it, I want to be your boyfriend."

I had put aside all my insecurities and worries and decided to just go with it. I had received this second chance at life, and I didn't want to have any regrets.

"Oh my God! Yes!" Emma squealed happily and jumped into my arms. "I want it very much."

Expecting her reaction, I opened my arms wide before she latched onto me. Then I engulfed her in a hug of my own. After a long time, I felt complete and blissful, as if a missing piece of the puzzle had been put in place.

"But I have some conditions if we are to do this," I said in a serious tone, hearing which Emma separated from me and turned serious as well.

"First of all, we absolutely have to keep it a secret. You cannot tell it to anyone on set at all."

"Why?" she asked curiously. "I think people like Alfonso can know."

"No," I shook my head. "If somehow the news reached Warner, they'd make our lives a living hell. Most relationships at our age result in heartbreak and drama. I'm not saying it will happen to us, but they will think so. And if it were to happen, it could make our work together difficult. Not to mention your contract expires after [Goblet of Fire]. What if after shooting it we don't want to remain together? Would you want to continue playing Hermione even then?"

She bit her lip in contemplation as the truth of the situation hit her. I knew it was a little insensitive to talk about such things right now, but it had to be done. I didn't want her to go out and blab to anyone who would hear that we were dating.

"So this is our second rule," I continued. "If for some reason, either of us breaks up with the other person, we'll remain friends, and continue shooting the films. We can't let our personal feelings get in between our work."

"Anything else?" She asked.

"That's all I could think of at the moment. Anything you'd like to add?"

"Yes," she finally said after a few moments. "I'll agree with both your rules only if you follow one rule of mine."

"And that is?"

"Kiss me."

That paused me in my step for a moment. It hadn't even occurred to me that being in a relationship is not just holding hands and talking to each other for hours. For obvious reasons, I would never take the relationship to a level I'm uncomfortable with until we have both reached maturity, but I guess a kiss should be fine.

So I stepped forward and encircled her waist in my arms before asking, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," she said with utmost certainty.

"As my lady commands," I whispered before lowering my lips to hers.

My eyes closed on their own at the feeling that went through my body. The softness of her supple lips was heavenly, and I could have stayed in that moment for years. I probably did as well because I lost track of how long I stayed in that position, slowly moving my lips against hers.

After what felt like an eternity, I separated from her and rested my forehead against hers while panting slowly.

"Wow," she breathed out.

"Wow indeed," I said with a huge grin on my face. "Are you feeling good enough now to come back to the party?"

"Help me wear this first," she pointed towards her gift.

"Sure."

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