AN: Too meta? I don't know her.

"You made me
A shadowboxer, baby
I wanna be ready
For what you do

I've been swinging
All around me
'Cause I don't know
When you're gonna
Make your move

Oh, your gaze
Is dangerous
And you fill your
Space so sweet
If I let you
Get too close
You'll set your
Spell on me

So darlin'
I just wanna say
Just in case
I don't come through
I was on to every play
I just wanted you."

Shadowboxer, Fiona Apple

The green room is mercifully quiet. Ben sits on one of the large leather couches, uncomfortable in his tuxedo. His phone is next to him, but the device stays off. He has no interest in reading about himself, the film, or the hype around the premiere. He's poured himself a glass of scotch because he can't figure out what else to do.

The door suddenly opens quietly, and he is surprised to watch his co-star, Rey Johnson, enter the room. He's seen her in nearly all forms - dirty from their fight scenes, fresh-faced from her trailer after a night shoot, and tonight she glows with inner radiance and immaculate makeup. Her lips are a perfect shade of red (not that he should be noticing).

"You've heard?" He asks, gruffly, a tired note in his voice.

"I didn't want to believe it."

The film series that they've spent the better part of a decade working on, Galaxy Battles, is currently airing its conclusion to a packed theater. The premiere. The last time he'll see her. He doesn't know what to be the most upset about. That he never admitted his feelings for her, or that the character he's spent so much time crafting has met his end in a most untimely (and seemingly irreversible) death.

He's surprised to notice there are tears in her eyes.

"It wasn't supposed to end like this," she says.

"How?"

"I loved Kira."

"You were - are - a fantastic Kira. No one can ever take that away from you."

"And your Rylo was amazing. I still can't believe what they did to you. To us."

They are quiet. Sound effects from the nearby theater shake the room. It's most likely one of many unnecessary battle scenes that the director has opted for.

"How did you make it through the red carpet?"

"I acted, didn't you?" Now it's her turn to sound bitter.

He laughs, then asks, "Is… Is the kiss still included, or did that end up on the cutting room floor as well?"

"As far as I know, it's there."

He remembers the day. It was magic on set. His character - finally redeemed. After struggling with his evil nature, it was Rylo's love of Kira, among other sacrifices, that brought him back to the light. Joined together, as they were meant to be.

And the kiss.

While Ben has certainly been physical on other sets prior to filming this, the kiss was everything. The chemistry with Rey, with their characters, with redemption. It was a perfect cinematic moment… Or, it had been. Now forever tainted by what comes next. That day, Ben was determined to tell his co-star how he felt, that she was the most talented and beautiful woman he had ever come across. But the director had called cut, and they'd been pulled apart by some production matter, and the moment was lost.

"Good. At least that's one thing we have."

Rey is, as far as he knows, single. In the months since principal photography on the film wrapped, he hasn't seen her be involved with anyone. Neither is he. Mostly because he's still in love with his co-star.

"Will you say anything?" She asks, pouring herself a scotch to match his.

"What do you mean?"

"Surely, people are going to ask you about the ending."

"Have you seen our NDAs? They are intense. I don't think either of us has the capacity to go up against the studio."

"Nor do we have footage of the original ending…" Rey says quietly. She's referencing the scripted ending where there two characters had ended on a much happier note - one that told a message of hope and possibility.

"Nothing good is going to come of this," he says.

"I'm not so sure." She knocks back her drink, then walks towards him and says, "Scooch."

He makes room on the massive leather sofa, completely unsure what to do next. She's close enough he can smell her perfume and it makes him heady. The skirt of her voluminous gown brushes his leg. As she settles in, he can feel the heat of her smaller frame next to his. Sure, they've kissed before - but that was on camera, surrounded by crew and lights. Clearing his throat, he asks, "What good is there?"

"Well, our characters did get together, even if it was only for a few seconds." She sighs. "Let's face it, the film that's currently screening is an atrocity." After a moment, she asks, "Would you ever come back?"

"To play Rylo?"

"Yeah."

"Not after what they've done. Or, at a minimum, I would want the approval over the script and the final edit."

"You know that's a nearly impossible ask."

"And I didn't think I needed it before, or I might have tried to get it in my contract. I mean, how do you screw up a four-decade saga with ONE film?" He told himself he wasn't going to get angry, but his emotions are too close to the surface.

"Well…" Rey picks at her gown.

"Well, what?"

"Even after everything, I'm glad we did this together, Ben. There's no one else I could have possibly gone through all of this with." If the tips of Ben's overly large ears turn red, Rey doesn't seem to notice. He holds his breath as she reaches over to grasp his hand.

They sit side by side, hands clasped together. Before he loses his courage, he says, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being you."

With that, he leans over and, ever so gently, strokes her cheek. Then he dips his head to kiss her gently on the lips. It's meant to be a soft kiss of gratitude - some way to communicate all that he's feeling, how sorry he is for the impossible situation they've been put in. Instead, Rey's mouth opens and she the kiss deepens immeasurably. Her hands are on his chest, beneath his jacket and in his hair. When she climbs on top of him, he thinks this might all be a dream. He doesn't want to ruin her coiffure or her dress, but sequins spill around him as he rubs his hands up and down her body, pulling her closer.

She pulls back and looks down at him, lips plump and eyes glassy. "Want to get out of here?"

"We can't."

"We absolutely can."

"We have commitments."

"Fuck them." And then Rey's hand reaches to his trousers, where it is very clear that at least one part of his body would be all too happy to leave. Immediately.

He tips a finger under her chin, and smiling, answers, "Fuck them."