"Three minutes—where are you?!" Baylor's voice hit the doorframe before I did.
"I am here," I said, sliding the door shut with a shoulder. My hair was a mess from the cab nap. My badge was crooked. I didn't care.
"You set one alarm and you missed half the day," Baylor said, eyes flashing. He folded his arms like he could fold my schedule into order.
"I set one alarm and I didn't miss half the day," I shot back, small and fast. Laylah snorted from the corner, two coffees in hand.
"That's not how time works, Ayla," Laylah said, practical. "Down the throat of coffee, fix the hair, don't talk to producers."
Baylor pointed. "Delays cost money. Delays cost reputations. You hear me?"
"I hear you," I said. I leaned against the counter and let the makeup hum of the room become background noise. "I'll make it right."
"How?" Baylor barked. "You say that like it's a bracelet you can buy."
"By walking on set sooner rather than later," I said. I unfolded my script in my hands like a shield. "And by not getting replaced."
"Not getting replaced," Baylor repeated. His voice softened a notch when he said my name. "You better mean it."
Laylah set a cup in front of me and tapped the lid. "You look like a person who needs caffeine and a plan."
"I have both," I said. My smile stuck because I needed it to
