Zombie Extras and First Takes

Maya smoothed her hair for the third time, checking the mirror. Natural curls she'd spent years fighting to tame, now suddenly weaponized with half a bottle of gel because CHRIS, literal Chris with the soft smile and perfect eyelashes, had agreed to be in her zombie movie.

"You good?" best friend Jax asked, not looking up from the camera rig.

"My palms are sweaty. That's the level of good we're at."

"Chris is just some guy. He's not gonna ghost you because your palm sweat situation isn't optimal."

Maya snorted. "Easy for you to say. Your crush didn't just agree to get fake blood splattered on his face for your freshman English extra credit project."

The cable snaked across the basement floor, a tripping hazard waiting to happen. Maya's dad had finally surrendered his DIY filmmaking equipment after she'd pitched this project with a desperation that honestly surprised her. Three weeks ago, she'd been invisible. Now she was directing a short film about loneliness and feeling like a zombie at school, which was definitely not inspired by personal experience whatsoever.

Chris showed up five minutes early, which felt unfair. Nobody should look that put together while pretending to be undead.

"Hey," he said, and Maya's brain short-circuited.

"Hi. Hey. Hello."

Jax mouthed *smooth* from behind the camera.

They started with the running scene. Chris was supposed to chase Maya through the park—her character's existential dread manifesting as literal zombies, deep stuff—but they kept messing it up. First Chris wouldn't run fast enough ("I don't wanna actually mow you down, Maya"). Then Maya kept tripping over the cable. Then her hair started rebelling against the gel.

By take twelve, they were breathless and laughing, Maya's palm no longer sweaty but just warm against Chris's when he pulled her up from the grass for the seventeenth time.

"Your zombie impression is terrible," she said, still grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah? Well your running form is tragic." He hesitated, just for a second. "Wanna get food after? Like, actual food, not brains?"

"Zombies don't eat brains in this movie, Chris. They eat cafeteria pizza. It's more realistic."

"That's fair." His smile did something complicated to her stomach. "So?"

"Yes. I mean—yeah. Absolutely."

Later, Jax would claim they'd captured the moment on camera by accident. Later, Maya would rewatch the footage and see exactly when her character stopped running away from the zombies and started running toward something real.

But that night, walking to the diner with Chris's arm bumping hers every few steps, she just felt alive for the first time in months.