You stood just outside the cameras' view, already transformed into her. Black skirt. Sheer tights. Fitted sweater. Delicate jewelry. Soft. Approachable. Absolutely nothing about the costume suggested your character had an entire room dedicated to Joe Goldberg.

Your highlighted script trembled slightly between your fingers. First day. First scene. And approximately twenty feet away, Penn Badgley ran a hand through his hair, laughing at something the director said.

Penn glanced up. Then glanced again. The director noticed. You didn't.

Cameras rolled. Penn became Joe almost instantly—shoulders settling, eyes sharpening, that careful pleasantness sliding over his features like a mask. He rearranged books behind the counter, oblivious.

The bell above the door chimed.

Your cue.

You walked inside, heels clicking softly against the wood floor. The door swung shut behind you. Joe's hand stilled on the bookshelf. He looked up.

Somewhere behind the camera, Penn forgot his next line for half a second.

You approached the counter, perfectly in character, and smiled.