Page 64 of Off Script

Jacob glanced back with a grin. “Keep up, Hollywood.” He just kept walking like this wasn’t uphill and vaguely murderous.

Of course Jacob liked nature. He probably hiked for fun and read existential poetry by a campfire or some shit.

They didn’t talk much; it was the kind of quiet that didn’t need to be filled. Eventually, Jacob stopped without warning. When Liam caught up, the trail had opened onto a rocky outcrop above the lake. The water below looked unreal—too still and blue. The kind of view that made you feel like the rest of the world could wait.

Liam just stood there, staring out, letting himself breathe. “Okay,” he muttered. “I get the appeal.”

Jacob sat down on a flat boulder, stretching his legs out in front of him like he owned the damn forest.

Liam stayed standing for a moment, eyes on the view. “How’d you find this spot?”

Jacob didn’t look over. “Found it that first morning. I’ve come out most days before call time.”

“You’ve been hiking before dawn forfun?”

“It’s quiet.”

That was all he offered—no embellishment, no further explanation.

Liam stood there a second longer before sitting down beside him, leaning back on his hands and letting the view soak in. “It’s a good spot.”

Jacob didn’t answer, but the corner of his mouth pulled slightly, like maybe Liam’s approval meant something to him.

Liam let his eyes wander across the lake, the trees, and the stupidly perfect sky. “It’s weird. Being still like this.”

Jacob kept quiet, but Liam knew him now—knew that silence didn’t mean distance; it meant Jacob was listening, giving him space to speak.

“I’ve been performing for as long as I can remember. Drama Club. School plays. Auditions. Set life. Press junkets. Always something to hit my mark for. It never stopped.”

Jacob made a low, unreadable sound.

“But this?” Liam gestured toward the lake. “This is just… still. No one is watching. No one is waiting for me to say the right line. My brain doesn’t know what to do with that.”

Jacob’s mouth twitched. “You’re not great at being still.”

“Nope,” Liam admitted. “I’m trained for stage lights and polite interviews. Not rocky cliffs and silence.”

Jacob was quiet for a second. “You don’t have to do anything here.”

“That’s the part that messes with me,” Liam admitted. “I’m not sure who I am without all that.”

“Maybe this is how you figure it out.”

After a stretch of quiet, Jacob asked, “So, drama club. Tights and Shakespeare and everything?”

Liam laughed out loud. “I was Mercutio. Took itveryseriously. Thought I was going to be discovered by some wandering agent in the school auditorium.”

Jacob side-eyed him. “Were you any good?”

“Probably not, but I was loud and I knew all my lines.” He smirked. “My little sister still brings it up—how I died tragicallyin Mom’s scarf and called it a costume. My family’s great like that. They always showed up. Always sat front row like it was the damn Tonys.”

Jacob met Liam’s gaze and held it, a genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“What about you? What were you doing in high school? Sports? Fights behind the gym?”

Jacob let out a short, humorless laugh. “Trying to survive Stockton.”

“Yeah?”