#wriiting

Michael B. Jordan x Black Reader

Minors DNI

Michael and Reader are exes and actors who are always caught up in an invisible string. This time the string leads them to interview each other for their own Actors on Actors episode.

[ Go easy on me! This is the first time I've posted in years. Happy New Years everybody x ]

The studio lights are blinding.

You’ve been through a million and one press junkets and interviews but this time, the air feels thick. Every corner of the room buzzes with an unfamiliar electricity that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The set is pristine, designed to look like a cozy living room—two chairs, warm lighting, a small coffee table between them—but the last thing you can focus on is the camera. 

Because he’s here. Michael. Sitting just across from you.

You can't believe it. Of all the people they could’ve paired you with for this episode of Actors on Actors, they had to pair you with him. Your ex.

The same ex who once held your heart in his hands, and, with a few words, shattered it into pieces you’ve been picking up ever since. The same ex who, when you look at him now, is still so achingly familiar—like he never left. His smile. That same mischievous glint in his eyes. His laugh, low and rich, the way it used to rumble through you and make your heart stutter. Everything about him makes it impossible to breathe without feeling that pull again, the one that you worked so hard to forget.

Parts of your brain know that it would’ve been easier if the relationship had ended in a screaming match or some sort of cheating scandal, but you know that it just wasn’t true.

“We’re not the same people we used to be, and I can’t keep pretending we are. I think it’s time we let go before we lose ourselves completely.”

“Do you think that we’ve outgrown each other?” 

The answer in the silence between the two of you was all the confirmation that you needed.

You two were the definition of the right time , wrong person, and now you have to sit there and pretend that you didn’t plan your entire futures together at 16 years old. 

Of course the planning happened during a game of M-A-S-H while you were waiting in the dressing rooms on the set of The Wire.  And at the time you would’ve rather been Prodigy from Mindless Behavior or Zayn as your final choice, but 2 kids and a little blue house with him didn’t sound so bad.

 It still doesn’t…

But you’re both here, now, for the cameras.

You can put your professional face forward and sit for a conversation with him for the next 30 minutes. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him since the breakup. You are in the same circle and you are both mostly drawn to the same projects so the two of you constantly being around each other was inevitable. 

The crew gets into position, their voices soft but urgent as they check angles, make sure the lighting is right. You know the script for this—questions about your latest roles, how you’re navigating your careers, the “game of acting.” A simple conversation. But it’s never simple with him.

You put on your game face and saunter onto the set with a calm powerful stride.

“We are two people that need no introduction. Hello Michael.” you say to the camera while holding your hand out and he looks at your hand for a moment as if you had just handed him a speeding ticket. 

You laugh softly at his expression and decide to not give him too much of a hard time.“I’m just playing. Hey Mike.” you try again, and his small pout dissolves into a soft warm smile that takes over his entire face. 

“Hey, baby girl.”

He pulls you in gently by your hand into a hug. A warm embrace that lasted a minute, but felt like an eternity. 

The last time you were pressed this close to his chest was months ago while your legs were clasped around his waist– holding on for dear life as he stretched you out after the Oscars after party.

The comforting hand that was massaging your back was the same as the one that held you closer while his hips rocked slowly into you. 

Your hearts were beating so loudly against one another as if they were trying to declare your love because neither of you dared to speak the words.

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

“Look at me… Please?” He pleaded again, this time moving your braids  out of your face.

You let out a sigh and turn your head away, letting his lips land on the side of your face and neck instead. “I can’t.” you reply quietly 

“I know.” 

“Come on, baby girl.” Was all that it took for you to roll him onto his back and slide your champagne colored gown up higher and off of your body. 

You can hear him take a sharp inhale while his hands up and down your body as if he’s remembering and studying all at once. 

His fingertips danced over your soft brown skin that felt hot to the touch. His eyes finally met yours as you took him into your hand once again and guided him into you without haste. You teased him slowly the way that he liked while your other hand held his jaw in place. 

He opened his mouth slowly to take your fingers into his mouth between his parted lips as you sunk down onto the tip and let out a breath while preparing to take the rest.

Michael’s eyes flutter closed  when you cupped him lower and you tsk before shaking your head.

“Look at me. You wanted me to look at you. I am right here. You close your eyes again and I'm leaving. And you’re not allowed to cum until I say. Do you understand?” You question, trying to sound brave because if you had stayed in the previous position you don’t know how you would’ve kept your composure.

“You say that because you don’t know how good you fuckin- feel” Michael added and nodded hesitantly-

 Michael glances at you, his eyes catching yours for the briefest second before he looks away, focusing on the monitor instead. That moment feels like a confession. He always knew how to make you feel like you were the only person in the room. Even now, even after everything.

“You ready?” His voice is low, careful, and it makes your stomach flip. You swallow hard, nodding once, trying to push down the surge of emotions that threatens to consume you.

“Yeah. Ready.”

The cameras roll, the noise in the room quiets, and suddenly, it’s just the two of you. Alone in front of an audience you can’t see, surrounded by a pressure neither of you has fully prepared for.

Michael leans forward, his usual charm in place, but the tension in the air is palpable. You can feel his gaze on you, warm but intense, like he's trying to figure out just how much you’ve changed since the last time you saw each other.

“So,” he begins, his voice smooth, “you’ve been getting a lot of praise for your latest role. How does it feel to be the one everyone’s talking about?”

It’s a simple question. But it isn’t. Not when the words hang between you like a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. You know him. You can feel the way he’s looking at you. The way his eyes soften when they meet yours. The way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s waiting for something.

You answer, but your mind is elsewhere—floating between memories of late-night talks, whispered confessions, and the sting of a love that was never quite enough to keep you together. Your gaze flits to him briefly.

The moment stretches longer than it should.

This was a mistake.

But you don’t say it. You can’t.

“Well, I am in awe that when they wrote this character that Jordan Peele had me in mind. Like, of all people. He had seen my work and said yes I need this bumbling awkward nerdy black girl to be my leading lady. You know how much I love  Jordan Peele. How many nights have we had in depth discussions for hours about Nope and Get Out and Us. And the script was just brilliant. I can’t say much about it yet, but you know how ecstatic I was when I found out that I got this role 2 years ago. I called you 5 minutes later after I called my mom and I just sobbed. Getting to star in a movie alongside Viola Davis is just any actor’s dream and it’s just purely insane. She’s the sweetest, most gorgeous hardworking person in the room. And she taught me how to let those tears flow without being embarrassed. You owe it to the character to tell their story. It will not always be pretty.” You yap on and Michael is just staring at you with those stars in his eyes like he’s trying so hard to pay attention to all that you’re saying but with the way that he’s eyeing you it feels like he’s searching for something.

“You have an eyelash.” He lies quietly and grasps at nothing on your cheek while letting his fingertips graze your cheekbone momentarily. 

It takes you back to the night of the after party once again.

You’ve now braced your hands against his chest with one knee down on the bed so that you can gain the perfect angle to bounce for longer.

The new angle allowed him to feel everything  at once and his hands gripped your hips, his mouth opened to let out a broken whimper-– just above a whisper.

Your hands trailed from his chest to his throat before your grip tightened around it. 

The feeling of being sheathed inside of you like a warm embrace was too much with the way you brought yourself back down onto him with smooth rolls of your hips and bouncing. 

He thought that he was going to lose mind before you  fell forward to let him impale you on it and pick up where he left off. 

It was your turn to whine softly against  his neck while you licked a strip up his neck up to his earlobe , suckling it softly. 

“Right there? Right there! Right. There.” He teased as he mocked your words. He locked one hand on the back of your head and the other around your waist to seal you in place before thrusting harder into the most perfect soft ribbony spot with precision. 

You turn your brain off to how “wrong” it was to be back in your hotel room, using the man who was once the love of your life like a pogo stick.

A long drawn out “fuck” leaves his mouth and you know that he’s close. You lean back and allow him to sit up while you ride him again. He rests his forehead on your shoulder– placing the softest butterfly kisses.

The switch from him doing all the work below to Lotus position felt like it was nearly too much and somehow not close enough. 

You stare into each other’s eyes while chasing that feeling together, in sync and in ebbs and flows of what felt the best to you both.

“Fuck, I love you, and I can’t help that.” he admits quietly. His hands come up to cup your breasts, softly grazing the hardened brown buds. 

Your body froze in place. You searched his face for all signs of uncertainty and euphoric accidental confessions, but sighed a sigh of relief when you couldn’t find a hint of doubt.

“Is that not enough?” you question. 

You both didn’t have the answer to that question so you opted to lean in to kiss him and suckle his tongue instead.

The moment your thighs began to tremble against him he knew that you were close. 

“My God.Michael, fuck.” you whine and try to match his rhythm but finding yourself cradling his head against your breasts and trying to prepare for that coil to snap in the pit of your stomach. 

“Doing so good for me. Good job, mama. Good fucking job.You feel so fuckin’ good. Ma fu-” He praised and hissed as he felt your nails rake down his back, 

“Harder… You’re gonna make me cum-”He whispered and you could feel him twitching and throbbing inside of you. 

“I can’t. I can’t-” You whine again , feeling overwhelmed by the feeling of being so close to where you want to be. 

“Yes, you can. Use your words. If you wanna cum , you gonna have to use your words.” 

“Please?”

“Please? Please? Please, what baby? I don’t understand that.” He mocks you to the very end but you know with the way that he’s now gripping your cheeks and dropping you down onto him , that he’s just as close as you are.

“Please make me cum.”

“I know. I know. I know.” he coos.

“ Get my fingers wet for me, baby, I’m going to get you there. You feel so good. Gonna make you feel so good.” He  leaned  you back gently, his hands sliding down from your breasts up to your mouth. 

You wasted no time making a show of getting his fingers nice and sopping wet. You sucked on them while he gripped the back of your head and made you take them deeper. Any other time your skin would’ve felt like it was burning with the way that this gaze was set upon you , taking you all in.

He rubbed the back of your head with a satisfied hum and with one soft kiss to your temple he got to work–making you feel the best that you had in the 4 months since the breakup.

With his fingers between your legs , rubbing gently at  your sensitive little bud and him now thrusting up into you and a tempo that was different than before you knew that you wouldn’t last long.

A combination of your grip and the sting of your long sparkly nails were the last thing he needed to send him over the edge with you.

 He smacked your thigh softly  just in time for you to lean back a little in his lap and let him coat your stomach right next to the little ‘m’ inside of a heart tattoo. 

As you moan into each other’s mouths you begin to overstim each other. 

He laid you back, still grinding softly against you and with you twitching in his arms.

Even after all that had just taken place, the softest kiss that he placed against your lips almost felt forbidden. 

He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours while you both caught your breath. Neither of you wanted to burst the bubble of fantasy so instead you did what you both do best and silently comfort each other.

You wipe the sweat from his face and he leans over to grab tissue from the hotel room nightstand to clean you up. 

‘You okay? ” He asked softly knowing that neither of you had the energy or words to have the actual conversation that needed to be had but you both agreed that for the sake of growth and moving on that this would be the last time. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He confirms while running his hands over your back to ground you. 

He opens the bottle of water on the nightstand and holds it up to your lips before taking a few sips himself. 

By morning you could feel his fingertips grazing your cheek while he’s saying his goodbyes. 

It was as if he was reading your mind. The audacity of this man to smirk at you as if he knows that the last time you had the best orgasm of your life was 2 years ago and again 5 months ago while feasting upon you like you were the last meal he’d ever have.

You had been broken up for over 2 years at that point and you both blamed it on the delirium from the lack of sleep caused by late call times and reshoots. 

You cough down your Earl Grey tea and return a look of your own. “Thank you” you say firmly and he continues the discussion. 

“I remember that. When you called me I was already on my way home with flowers cause it was Monday - and if y’all didn’t know, brief sidenote. I feel like Mondays are hard enough. Everyone deserves flowers to start their week off right. So, yeah, you called and I also ended up bringing home a little ‘Congratulations, my future Oscar winner’ cake. And now a year later you’re about to  share that movie with the world. I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked. And that’s the thing about both of us. Neither one of us ever really wanted to be actors growing up. It just kind of fell into our lap as a part of our path and it’s something that we fell in love with. I have always loved your work ethic and your style of acting. You know that I tell you that on and off camera. The way that you can make any character feel so–human. That’s something that I really admired about you. She was this professional little thing that walked on the set of The Wire like she had been working in the industry for 20 years. She used to scold me so much too. I heard “be professional , Michael” more from her than I did the director.” He says laughing and you kick him playing with your heel. 

“You were a menace! I thought that we were gonna get kicked off of set with your prank wars! Our scenes were already 60 seconds” you say laughing as he grabs your foot,

“Heeyy! I was just trying to get your attention. I didn’t learn to love acting until I watched your scenes and wanted to work harder and fall in love with the craft. But, my first thoughts were the curly haired brown skinned girl that I got to see every day. You know, I wasn’t BIG MIKE back then. I had straight backs and 4xl Big and Tall shirts.It was rough. But Wallace taught me a lot. It was one of the first roles where I got to put on different shoes and hats and walk through someone else’s life” He says, laughing at himself at first.

“Please edit a photo of that right here, thank you. Because why did the wardrobe department have him dressed like Master P, every episode. ” You chime in while laughing at him.

He pushed your heel playfully with his loafer and it made you both burst out in laughter again. 

“It’s okay because they dressed me like Reba McIntyre. They really said a single mom who works too hard and loves her kids… It was… something.” You joke before getting back to the main topic.

“Yeah, a lot of people don’t know that he and I have known each other for forever and I can address the elephant in the room. Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean that we aren't still fans of each other and the craft and we work well together. I literally cried when his character Wallace died. They didn’t tell me so that my reaction could be more authentic. I hated it and wanted no parts of it, but it taught me how to embrace feeling and emotion and let it flow as it needs to. In order to breathe life into the character. I cried again while watching him in Black Panther for the first time. It still gets to me to see him hurt or in pain or just–” You try to continue the conversation but didn’t expect to get choked up on the idea of how much you care for his well being,

Michael instantly leans in with a tissue from the table next to your mugs to wipe away your tears and you quietly wave him off with a small shake of your head before taking a moment to gather your thoughts, 

You watch as the corner of his mouth turns down for a second and there's something etched across his face like he wants to comfort you but he's not sure if that's his place now.

The frown on his face is replaced with a knowing look when he realizes that you’re still in front of a whole crew and cameras. 

He settles for placing his hand on your knee and running his thumb over it to calm your nerves and soothe you. 

It was something he’d always do to calm you before anything important while your leg jigged and shaked from the anxiousness. 

You give him a soft smile and nod before continuing the conversation.

“ I think it was a combination of how hard he worked to make Erik feel human and how far he’d come in general. I also felt like Wallace in a way led to you bringing Killmonger to life. Erik really did feel like that guy from your neighborhood that you watched get dealt the shittiest hand of cards in life and he had to learn to play the game with those cards while going after the people who dealt them in the first place. Shout out to Ryan Coogler. Those were my favorite movies to work on. Lupita, Letitia, Angela, CHAD. Everyone worked for hours to create what you saw on the screen. You could just feel how important and special this film was going to be for a long time. My heart. My heart is forever left in Wakanda, honestly.  I literally cried watching all of his films to be honest. Put on any of the Creed films and you will find me bawling by the end. He and Tessa were like magic together. And yes I saw all of the tweets and articles, thanks TMZ. But, no really, can I just also clarify that Tessa and I are besties. I literally had to silence my phone before this because she will be sending some sort of meme. People love a good fake story.We needed a good laugh.” You tease while mouthing “fuck you guys” to the camera. 

You can hear the staff chuckling and you turn to see Michael immersed in what you’re saying. His eyes only leave your face to take a sip of his coffee. 

“Yeah, Tessa’s the homie. We were celebrating our anniversary in Cabo when we read those articles too. People just say anything and it’s taken as the truth. . . I think you’re right too. That’s exactly the way that I think of both roles. Really I approach all roles that way. Where’s the humanity in this? And if I can’t find it. Then I wonder when it was turned off. How did the character lose it ? Then from there I just dive in. . . Switch with me?” He asks after making a face at how sweet the coffee is. 

He takes a swig of your Earl Grey and takes a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“Oh, I could’ve told them that you wouldn’t like this. It's very sweet but very nice, thank you.” You say in the direction of the staff. 

“Oof. You have. You have my red lipstick on you from my mug.” 

You’re already swiping at his lips without a second thought. It didn’t dawn on you how awkward things might appear until you meet his gaze and he’s grabbing another tissue from the table and swiping at his own lips.

“Did I get it?” He asks licking his lips slowly and you wanted to smack the grin off his face at that moment. 

“Yup. YUP. Got it. Perfect, good job.” You reply cheekily before looking out at the crew and staff. 

“Also, Did you know that he was my first on-screen kiss? My first on-screen everything..." You segue into the next conversation about your newly released romcom. 

The cheeky grin that he was once wearing is now replaced with a look of nostalgia induced sorrow. 

“Yeah yeah. It was all teeth and upper lip. I didn’t know what was going on. I just knew that they said hey keep it cute. Simple. A peck. I still wasn’t at the BIG MIKE stage. This was the Chronicle era and I know y’all didn’t watch that one, but that’s alright —you’re still my people. It  was for some throwaway party scene. It didn’t end up making the final cut but the butterflies that I felt that day was all that I remember. I was so nervous I kept getting the lines wrong. Anyways, Steve ended up getting smashed into the ground the next day and that was that, but I didn’t even care. I was on cloud 9. We had our first date the next weekend after that.” He reveals and you smiled fondly back at him at the thought. 

“You never told me that you were nervous. I was so nervous that day. I think I ate about 20 Altoids and then I couldn’t even feel my tongue for 5 minutes.”

He chuckles to himself at the thought of the memory.

“You were definitely my celebrity crush. So, for me it was and still is a special moment in my career… And now I know why your breath was so minty.” He jokes but you don’t miss the way that he rubbed over the tiny print of your initials on the inside of his wrist.

“Also, can I just add. Can you please stop dying on screen! You’ve got about 4 or more characters that just get off-ed brutally. I was so over the moon when I found out that you would be the male lead opposite of me in this thriller romcom, Try Again. I know how much you give to these characters and how much you want to do their stories justice but I love when you laugh. It’s still my favorite sound. Working with you on this new romcom was difficult because we did all of our own stunts, but I loved it because it felt like we were 16 again. I haven’t heard you laugh or seen you smile that much in years. So many heavy characters took so much of your light in order to bring them to life. In this A24 movie we play a couple who’s thinking about getting divorce and are in the process of separation. However, we end up needing each other to get through a situation because it isn’t as it seems! So stay tuned for that.” You continue, pointing towards the camera.

He leans back in his chair, looking at you with a softness in his eyes, a little more vulnerable than he usually lets on in interviews. There's a long pause, like he's choosing his words carefully, trying to balance what he's feeling with the professional facade.

"Man, I—" He laughs softly, running a hand through his hair, as if gathering the courage to say exactly what’s on his mind. His voice lowers, sincere. "You’ve always had a way of seeing right through me, haven’t you?"

Michael’s eyes meet yours, the years between you two suddenly feeling smaller, as if the old connection is still there, just buried under time. "It’s... It’s not just the characters, you know. Those stories, they take so much, but they also give me a way to feel things I didn't know I needed to. But hearing you say that… hearing you say that you miss my laugh… it hits different now."

He exhales slowly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don't think I realized how much of myself I left behind, chasing all those roles. But you always knew how to make me feel like me again. Even on the hardest days, there was something about your energy that could pull me back."

A pause, and he glances away for a moment, almost like he's fighting to keep his composure. Then he looks at you again, softer than before. "I missed you, more than I would have liked to admit. The real me. Not the guy I play on screen, but the one who can sit next to you and just laugh about nothing at all."

He clears his throat, trying to make it sound light again. "So yeah, you’re right. You were 16 again, and I was with you, laughing like nothing ever changed. Layla and Quinten are a lot like us in a way. They fell in love very fast and early on in life and they had seen it all and done it all. And then one day life is pulling them in two different directions. And onto a path when they’ve never really had to travel alone before. There’s love always, but there’s also self discovery that needs to happen. But there is always, always love, respect, and care.”

There's a tenderness in his gaze that lingers for just a second longer than expected, before he finally gives you that familiar, playful smile. "So yeah. Try Again is coming out a few months before Sinners, stay tuned!" He finishes off, trying to keep a level of professionalism and privacy.

The words he says hit harder than expected, each one a tender reminder of what you once shared, what you’ve both  lost, and what could still be there, even in the quiet spaces between the two of you. 

After blinking back the tears a few times, almost as if you’re trying to keep the vulnerability at bay, but the sincerity in his voice has already cracked something wide open.

For a moment, it’s quiet. Your gaze softened but the way that your heart thudded against your chest made this feel way too real. You felt caught between the walls that you built and the person sitting across from her, the one that still knows you better than anyone else. You take a breath and turn slightly toward him, leaning in just enough to let him know you’re hearing him, really hearing him.

"You always did know how to make me feel like I was the only person in the room, even when we were surrounded by a hundred people." You smile, but it’s a little sad, a little too knowing. "I think that's why it was so easy to fall in love with you in the first place. You never treated me like I was just another face in the crowd. You saw me. And I... I didn’t always know how to be honest with you, even when I should’ve been. But maybe, I’ve learned a little more now. And I think that’s the thing that made me connect with Layla in the first place. She’s accomplished and driven and sometimes a little controlling but that’s only because she wanted the best for him. Quinten is kind, loving and friendly. I think sometimes to a fault because in the career that he’s in people will see that as an open invitation to be as sneaky and shitty as they can be. Even if it’s done quietly and he doesn’t really see it. We get to see their growth and communication throughout the film. And there’s aliens! So really stay tuned! "

His eyes linger on his, soft and steady, before Michael responds . "I think you're right. Maybe it’s not about going back to what they were. It’s about... accepting where they are now.I could talk so much about this and the process of bringing a script to life as an actor. But, we only have about 30 minutes for the discussion and they’re already signaling for us to wrap it up! We’re both yappers so we didn’t even get into half the things that we wanted to talk about. Round 2 on your podcast, Table Read? ”

He asks plugging your show at the end, but you both knew that it was just another reason for him to see you and spend more time with you. 

You let out a soft breath, eyes flicking down for a moment, then back up to meet his. “I’d like that, actually. There’s so many more things I'd love to get into with you and I’m sure they’d love to see it.” 

“Thank you so much for being here with us today and I’m truly sorry that all we did was yap the time away but look forward to Sinners with this large headed man and the incredible Lily Rose Depp. You can also look forward to our movie Try Again. Once again, thank you for having us.”

Once you wrap everything up and the director yells cut , Michael scoops you into a hug without much thought. 

“You smell good.” He says quietly and you just give into it, resting your head on his shoulder. 

As the cameras stop rolling and the director yells "cut," the room suddenly feels quieter, as if the world outside their conversation has been temporarily suspended. There’s a weight in the air, and for a second, you wonder if the moment has already passed—if you should just let it fade with the lights and the final words of the interview. But then Michael's arms are around you, pulling you into a hug without hesitation, like he’s waited for this exact moment.

"You smell good." he repeats, voice low and warm against the side of your neck.

The “reminds me of home” part swirling around his brain is silenced and you both settle into the hug.

For a moment, you don’t say anything. You just lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder, the familiarity of his embrace wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. The hug is long, comfortable, almost as if time has folded back to the years before everything shifted. Before the distance, the separation, the silence.

You breathe in his scent—something that’s distinctly him—and it hits you with the sudden realization of how much you missed this. How much you missed him.

"I didn’t know I missed this... until now," you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper, vulnerable in the way only old friends or lovers can be.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his face close but not too close. There’s something in his gaze, a mixture of longing and something more, something unspoken that lingers in the air between you. The laughter, the warmth, the smiles—they’re all still there. He hasn’t changed, not entirely. Neither have you.

"Yeah, I think we both didn’t realize how much we needed this," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary. "But we can’t go back to where we were, can we?"

You meet his eyes, feeling the weight of those words, but there’s no sadness in them. Not really. It’s just the truth. You’ve both moved forward, but this moment, the connection between you, doesn’t need to be erased. It just needs to evolve.

“I don’t think it’s about going back," you reply slowly, voice steady. "I think it's just about... acknowledging it. Acknowledging that we’re here now, even if it’s different. But, different isn’t always a bad thing.”

Michael nods, the sadness in his eyes matching the quiet acknowledgment in your words. "Different can be a good thing."

For a moment, neither of you speak. The room around you feels like it’s frozen in time. The noise from the crew, the laughter from the makeup artists—it all feels so distant now, like they’re characters in their own story, while you and Michael are the ones still figuring out what comes next. There’s a kind of peace in that.

You finally pull away from him, offering a small, sincere smile. “I’m really glad we got to do this. It’s been... a long time.”

“It has,” he agrees, his voice soft. Then, with a playful grin, he adds, “Maybe we should stop making it so long next time?”

You laugh, and for the first time in ages, it feels effortless. You can almost hear the echo of that laughter from when you were both 16, the sound of two people who hadn’t yet learned how to let go of each other.

“I think I could manage that,” you tease back.

And just like that, the walls that had been built over the years seem to crumble, at least for a moment. The past isn’t gone, but it doesn’t feel as heavy anymore. It feels... shared. Real.

As you both make your way off set, you turn to him one last time. “Are you going to the Golden Globes lunch thing?”

He gives you one of those familiar, knowing smiles. “For sure. It’s on my schedule. You?”

“Yes.. It’s on mine too… See you there?”

“See you there-”

And with that, the chapter ends. Not with an answer, not with certainty, but with the soft, unspoken promise of maybe more. Maybe one day. But for now, you both step into separate futures, carrying pieces of each other with you—unspoken, untouched, and yet undeniably there.

The story of the Aberrant Plexus xenomycelial breach at IPGL unfolds at Diffractions ahead of my upcoming exhibition. // Start here // Stay tuned.

Here’s my story.

Buried not in paper, nor in memory—but somewhere more deceitful.

The internet.

A place for ghosts and liars.

A place where I could bury him—the version of him I called Papa.

The man I wanted. The man I sculpted from ash and wishful thinking.

This story is not a dream.

It’s a nightmare.

One I rehearsed so often, I began to live it.

~marzii'spoetry

Book: : "The Father I Invented"

*takes a deep breath and crack knuckles.*

You, my dear dreamty, have woken the ramble part in me. I've held those two dear in my heart and with no one to ramble about I actually do , you since it's literally ur oc and other that have played the game but I don't wanna bother foqjjs

never sent, just hidden away.

those pages, filled with joy and tears.

reflections of all my deepest fears.

with each word, a piece of me, i left