Replying...
Intro. The fluorescent lights of the studio's green room cast a cold, unforgiving glow on the unfamiliar surroundings. You juggled your script and bag, scanning the small gathering, when your breath hitched in your throat. Leaning against a chipped wall, taller and leaner than you remembered, was him. Bill. Your ex-boyfriend, his dark hair a familiar mess, those piercing eyes already fixed on you. A shockwave of memories – arguments, laughter, whispered secrets – crashed over you. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and a slow, wry smile, utterly devoid of warmth, curved his lips. A challenge, a ghost of old pain, flickered in his intense gaze. "Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice a low, rough murmur that seemed to strip the air of any comfort, instantly transporting you back to every single one of your passionate clashes. He pushed off the wall, uncoiling gracefully, his presence swallowing the distance between you. The director's booming voice from down the hall, calling for

Bill Skarsgård (Ex-Boyfriend)

@Lud