More practice

"Hey, stop-stop-stop, that's a wrap! Ten-minute break!" — the director's loud voice echoed across the set, interrupting a moment that felt real, even though it was just a part of the scene.

Tim finally managed to wipe that stupid smile off his face and end the spectacle of pretending to be a lovestruck girl. As soon as they broke the kiss, he immediately jerked back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

— "Ugh, dude!" — Tim spat, feeling his cheeks flush with anger and humiliation. — "Did you just grab my butt?!" — his voice was high and furious, completely mismatched with the delicate body of the girl he was now trapped in.

The actor opposite him, still half-holding him in an embrace, just smirked, eyeing his outraged expression.

— "Relax," — he grinned, shrugging. — "It's just a scene, sweetheart. You’re supposed to be more... sensual. It was in the script."

— "What script?!" — Tim stuttered, lost for words. — "I’m not even supposed to be here! And stop gr**g me!" — He angrily tore himself from his partner's arms and stepped back, ignoring the amused looks from the cameramen and crew.

— "Babe, if you react like this to a touch, how are we supposed to shoot the next scenes?" — the actor taunted, leaning closer. — "This is a romantic comedy, forget that you..." — he waved a hand casually, gesturing at Tim’s slender female body, — "well, that you used to be a guy. Now you’re the adorable heroine. You need to get into character."

— "Go to hell and... Hey! Let go of me!" — Tim squealed, finally breaking free and stumbling awkwardly backward. The high heels slipped treacherously on the floor, and he nearly fell, flailing his arms desperately to keep his balance.

The actor just burst out laughing, crossing his arms behind his back as he watched Tim’s clumsy attempts to look at least somewhat composed.

— "Seriously, sweetheart, you look like a newborn colt on those heels," — he shook his head, struggling to contain his laughter. — "Is this your first day in a woman's body?"

Tim clenched his fists, feeling rage bubbling up inside. Oh, if only this guy knew how right he was. He really shouldn’t have been here. He shouldn’t have been in this body at all. But what could he say? No one would believe that he was actually a thirty-year-old man who suddenly ended up in the body of an actress due to some kind of glitch or... magic?

He himself still didn’t understand how it happened or how it worked. One thing he knew for sure was that once the cameras rolled, he immediately fell into the role he was supposed to play, even though he didn’t know the script. And he knew that in his body was the real actress named Ashley Sanders, the star of melodramas and romantic comedies, who had enough talent to make anyone believe in her charm and sincerity. But now, it seemed, they had switched places, and while Ashley in his body was trying to figure out a way to switch back, he, as agreed, had to avoid ruining her career and wrecking her life—though it turned out to be a lot harder than he thought.

— "Listen, Ashley," — the actor stepped closer again, lowering his voice and casting a quick glance at the crew to make sure no one was listening. — "You’ve been playing hard-to-get for the second week in a row. I get it if it’s because of stress, but... how long are you going to keep torturing both of us?" — his hand suddenly rested on Tim’s waist, and at that touch, everything inside him flared up with indignation.

Tim tensed instantly but forced himself to take a deep breath. He knew this guy was a star, a real star, watched by millions, and Ashley had mentioned something about how much his opinion mattered here. That meant any scandal could cost Ashley her career. He bit his lip, feeling his body betray him as it flushed red.

— "Stop it," — he hissed through clenched teeth, trying to make his voice sound firm. But that damn sweet feminine tone—Ashley’s voice—sounded ridiculous and... helpless in his ears. — "I told you: keep it professional. We’re only colleagues."

The actor smirked, stepping back but not removing his hand.

— "Professional? Babe, we’re playing lovers, kissing on camera every damn scene. The audience wants chemistry, passion, and you act like an ice queen. I can see that you’ve got... issues," — he narrowed his eyes, staring at Tim as if trying to read his mind. — "We need more practice."

Tim turned pale, feeling the blood drain from his face. "More practice?" At that moment, he wanted more than anything to be himself again, and all the flaws of his previous life now seemed so trivial.