Chapter 6

  In two days, Christin would be leaving for the filming location—and he still hadn’t packed his luggage.

  Since he had never stayed away from home alone, he felt clueless. Andrei was at work, and it was useless waiting for his advice. Christin could already imagine Andrei’s annoyed expression if he asked for help—again.

  He paced back and forth across the room, staring at the clothes he had chosen, wondering if they made him look overdressed… or underdressed.

  It was time to ask someone for help.

  But who?

  Should I ask Alisa? he thought. No—no. She’ll make me look like a beauty icon even while I’m sleeping.

  Maybe Aunt… never mind. She already believed he didn’t wear enough layers.

  Still confused, Christin sat on the edge of the bed, his head dropping into his hands. He tried to think of someone—anyone—who would know what to do in this situation.

  Then it hit him.

  “Mr. Ivanov!” he blurted out, suddenly bright with relief.

  But another problem quickly followed.

  Is this reason even worth calling him?

  His stomach tightened with nerves.

  After a moment, he forced himself to decide.

  “I don’t care,” he muttered. “Let’s call and see what happens.”

  He dialled.

  “Hello, Mr. Ivanov!” Christin said when the call connected. “How have you been lately?” Christin asked, a little nervously.

  “Good,” Austin replied. “Just packing my things for filming. By the way—how are things on your end? What about your college? Did you inform them?”

  “Yes, everything is settled,” Christin said quickly. “Most of my exams are in person, so I’ll have to make a few trips back to campus when the time comes. That’s all.”

  “So, what’s the occasion for the call?” Austin asked, curious.

  “Oh—right,” Christin said. “I needed some advice from you.”

  “From me? What kind?”

  “About staying away during the filming period,” Christin admitted. “How should I pack? Or… what am I even supposed to pack?”

  Austin chuckled. He clearly hadn’t expected that.

  “Yes, I can help you,” he said. “Basic necessities will be provided by the hotel. But if you use any special products, bring those along.”

  He added, “Bring any medication you take—and your prescriptions, if you have them. I usually carry an over-the-counter pain reliever too, just in case.”

  “Oh… okay,” Christin said, trying to absorb all the details. Then he asked, “What are you packing?”

  “Me?” Austin replied. “Just my casual clothes, socks, shoes, a few formal outfits in case there’s an and pyjamas.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Anything else?” Christin asked.

  “Hm…” Austin thought. “I don’t style my hair much, but I’m bringing a blow dryer. You can share mine if you want. But I don’t share my trimmer.” He hesitated. “What else am I forgetting…?”

  “Oh, it’s okay. I wouldn’t bother you by using your stuff every time. It’s fine,” Christin reassured him.

  “No, it’s really okay,” Austin replied easily. “We’ll be living in the same room anyway, so it won’t be a problem. It’s more of a suite, actually. It would just be sitting in the bathroom any—”

  “Wait. What?” Christin interrupted. “Living together?”

  “Yes—living together,” Austin repeated gently. “Were you not informed about this?”

  Uneasiness crept into Christin’s voice. Austin immediately sensed it.

  “This is the first time I’m hearing about it,” Christin said, anxiety rising. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  “Mr. Vasiliev. Please listen to me—are you listening?”

  “Yes,” Christin replied, trying to steady himself.

  “It’s a large room,” Austin explained. “Two queen-sized beds, a small balcony, a spacious bathroom, and a good-sized wardrobe. This arrangement was suggested by the director to promote team bonding—especially between us.”

  He paused.

  “Are you still with me, Mr. Vasiliev?” he asked gently, sensing Christin’s discomfort.

  “Yes,” Christin answered, though he was clearly unsettled.

  “We were fine at the restaurant,” Austin continued calmly. “So, we should be okay sharing a room too—especially since it’s spacious.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “Mr. Vasiliev,” Austin asked quietly, “am I no longer good enough?”

  Christin felt it immediately—the hurt in Austin’s voice.

  “Mr. Ivanov, please try to understand me,” he said, his voice softening. “You’ve been supportive in your own way, and I notice it. You’ve been very gentle with me—so please don’t say that you’re not good enough. The problem lies with me, not you.”

  “I’ve been called many things,” Austin replied with a faint smirk, “but ‘gentle’ is a first, Mr. Vasiliev.” he added, “I’ve seen you gather courage and face your fears. You did that at the dinner.”

  He paused before continuing.

  “How about you try taking on this challenge next?” Austin suggested quietly. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll come up with another solution. I promise.”

  “So,” he asked gently, “what do you say, Mr. Vasiliev?”

  Christin was stunned by the suggestion. He sat in silence for a moment, his heart racing.

  “I… I’ll try,” he finally said.

  “On the bright side, Mr. Vasiliev,” Austin added reassuringly, “I can help you rehearse your lines and practice your scenes. As your senior in this field, I hope I can be of some help.”

  He paused before continuing.

  “We can also work on your condition together,” he suggested gently.

  Christin listened quietly, absorbing his words.

  “We’re supposed to be lovers on screen,” Austin continued carefully. “So, we need to be comfortable with each other first—don’t you agree?”

  Christin couldn’t disagree.

  “Now,” Austin went on, sensing the need to lighten the mood, “is there anything else you’d like to ask about packing? Meals are provided by the hotel, and room service is available. We can also use our own vehicles for travel.”

  “Austin! Mom’s calling you for lunch!” a sudden voice interrupted from the background. “Brother, you said you’d take me out for shopping too!”

  “Zinaida,” Austin said patiently, “I’m a bit busy. I’ll be there shortly, okay, princess?”

  He turned his attention back to the call.

  “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Vasiliev. Was there anything else you needed help with?”

  “No, I’m all good,” Christin said. “Thank you. And… Mr. Ivanov—you can call me Christin. ‘Mr. Vasiliev’ sounds too long.”

  “Only if you call me Austin,” he replied with a soft laugh. “‘Mr. Ivanov’ sounds long too.”

  Christin chuckled. “Alright, Austin. I won’t keep you from your little princess.”

  Austin laughed quietly, something unfamiliar tightening in his chest as he heard his name spoken so naturally.

  “See you soon, Christin,” he said.

  The call ended.

  As the day passed by, finally, it was the day to reach the filming location.

  Christin had at last completed the never-ending task of packing—with Austin’s guidance and a fair amount of nagging from Andrei. The latter firmly believed that Christin was a lazy overthinker who spent more time worrying than doing.

  “Andrei, do you think I’ve left something behind?” Christin asked.

  Frustrated by the constant questioning, Andrei shot him a glare. With furrowed brows, he snapped, “For the twelfth time, Your Highness, in my opinion you have packed all the basic necessities a human being would require to survive on his own.”

  He paused, taking a deep breath.

  “And even if you did forget something, you can buy it there. It’s not like you’ll be locked away in some deserted place in the middle of nowhere.”

  Then his tone softened. He placed his hands on Christin’s shoulders and smiled.

  “You can always call me if you need anything. Don’t forget—your brother is just a phone call away.”

  Christin smiled back, finally realizing he didn’t need to worry so much.

  Christin drove his own car as usual, while his security team followed him.

  The hotel soon came into view. He parked in the lot and stood still in front of the hotel.

  This is the real test.