Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

To say that it was rough living in New York City in the year of 1933 was putting it lightly. If you weren’t struggling to keep your job, you were struggling to keep your house. If you weren’t struggling to keep your house, you were struggling to survive on the streets. Entire households, families― children ―had been forced to face inevitable truth: it was The Great Depression, and it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

One would think in times like this, going to the theater was the least of everyone’s priorities, but that wasn’t the case at all. Movies, plays, anything that would provide an escape for the common people was welcomed―if they could afford it, that is.

Rey had been living in New York for almost two years after she ran away from the orphanage in England. She was nineteen years old now, and her dream to be in show business was as big and present as ever. She currently worked at The Lyric Vaudeville Revue, providing entertainment to the audience through comedy. Heaven knew how much these people needed a laugh. She wore a suit, top hat and mustache, dancing, doing flips and other tricks to please. She met her best friend Finn at the Revue, and she was closer to him than anyone else. He was her only family for the past two years.

After their most recent show, Rey, Finn and the other cast members gathered in the backstage dressing room to shed their costumes and go home for the day. One of their older members was practicing a sneeze he used in their performance. He made a particularly loud one, catching their attention.

“That’s a funny one, right? Is that funnier?”

“It’s hysterical,” Finn said with a laugh, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “As long as we’re laughing, we won’t cry over the box office.” Rey knew what he was referring to as she peeled off her mustache. Their sales had seen a great decline in the past few weeks. Fewer and fewer people were coming to their shows. She couldn’t blame them, of course. It just wasn’t affordable like it used to be.

The old man noticed a pamphlet next to the mirror Rey was sitting in front of.

“What’s that, Rey?” he asked.

“It’s a play,” Rey answered.

He peered closer at the writing. “‘Isolation by Ben Solo’. What kind of a name is Solo ?”

Rey’s face burned out of embarrassment and also because she didn't appreciate the jab at the man's name. She very much enjoyed Ben Solo’s plays. She’d been attending them whenever there was one in production with any spare change she had, sometimes seeing the same play multiple times, though she’d never seen the writer himself. In fact, there was no picture of him. As far as the public knew, Ben Solo was a faceless, genius playwright. The pamphlet in front of her advertised his newest one as well as served as a call out for auditions.

“I heard he’s real famous,” Finn spoke up, coming to her defense. “He’s also looking for a female lead for that play. I bet Rey could do it no problem.” He winked at her and she smiled back gratefully.

“Must be at the Federal Theatre,” the old man continued. “At least they’ve got an audience.”

“It’ll pick up,” Rey said, trying to sound optimistic. “Right, Finn?” Finn smiled half-heartedly, but the others did not look so hopeful. “It always does,” she finished quietly.

After they cleaned off all their makeup and put on their own clothes, Rey and Finn walked out of the Revue arm-in-arm.

“Have you eaten today?” she asked him. She noticed her dear friend had lost a lot of weight recently, and she suspected she was probably the same.

“Nah, I’m not hungry,” he said casually. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Hey,” she chided gently, gripping his arm a little tighter. She smiled sadly. “You’re all I have, you know.” His tense look softened and he nodded.

“Take me to dinner, Miss Rey?”

Rey giggled. “The kitchen on Third should still be open. How does soup and biscuits sound to you?”

“My favorite!”

After some time of walking, Rey spoke up. “I actually sent in my resume a few days ago,” she said as she and Finn navigated their way through the packed streets, tightly surrounded by other New Yorkers either going home for the day or headed to a soup kitchen. “To set up an audition for the play, I mean.”

“That’s great!” Finn exclaimed. “Have you heard back from them?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “The man I gave it to, Mr. Snoke, he sent it right back to me. I know I don’t have a list of colorful achievements, but if they would just give me one audition…”

“They’d be crazy not to have you. You have a lot of talent as an actress, Rey. I know it, everyone knows it.”

“So do you,” she returned as she bumped his shoulder. “You should send in your resume as well!”

“Honestly, I don’t know if the theater is for me,” he confessed. “Someday, Rey, films are where I’ll be seen― on screen . That’s where it’s at.”

“Hm, perhaps,” Rey mused. She never gave much thought to the film industry. She figured it was too far out of reach, but she admired her friend's anticipation for the future.

“All I know is that I can’t keep doing comedy acts at the Revue forever," Finn resolved with a sigh. "That’s depressing.”

As if Finn’s words created a curse, The Lyric Vaudeville Revue was shut down only days later. The owner of the building locked the doors, took down the signs, and threw out all their props and costumes onto the streets. Rey had arrived in a hurry after hearing the news. Passersby gave looks of sympathy but walked on. Furious, Rey shook the doors to no avail, blocked by a giant locked chained to the handles.

“Oi! Open up, we work here!” she yelled.

“Not anymore, missy,” a worker who was still taking down signs said, voice devoid of any pity. Rey’s co-workers let out cries of protest.

“It’s alright for you,” Rey responded, shaking, fists clenched at her sides. “We haven’t had a paycheck in two weeks!”

“What am I supposed to do about it?”

She groaned and looked at the pile of clothes and accessories on the ground that were quickly turning into litter. She looked around the group of actors, trying to spot her friend.

“Where’s Finn?” she wondered aloud.

“Dunno,” one of the actors said dejectedly, kicking at a feather boa. “Heard he was packin’.”

“Finn!” Rey burst through the door of Finn’s shabby, shared apartment. Indeed, he was tossing his few belongings into a suitcase. He looked at her, miserable. Tears filled her eyes.

“You were going to say goodbye before you left, weren’t you?”

“Oh, Rey.” Finn engulfed her into a hug, worried he’d hurt her. “Of course I was. I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that.”

“Are you going back home?” she asked as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Yes,” he said after her let her go. “It’s no use. The show’s done. I’m done. I can’t take it anymore, I’m going back to Chicago. I’m so sorry, Rey.” He gently wiped under her eyes. “You know, you really oughta try out for the part. Don’t take no for an answer. Okay?”

“But what about you?” she asked helplessly. “I can’t do it without you.” He tried to smile, but it faltered.

“I know you’ve come such a long way,” he told her. “You’ve been let down your whole life. And I know what you’re thinking: ever since you were a kid, something good comes along and before you can take it, fate comes and snatches it away.”

Rey lowered her head, crying.

“But not this time, Rey, I can feel it,” he continued. “You can do this.”

“Not without you,” she repeated in a whisper, an idea forming in her head.

Determined, Rey marched up to the acting agency downtown. It was lunchtime, so the person she was looking for was bound to walk out at any moment. Her heart soared when she saw she was right; a grumpy, tall, old man walked out. He was adjusting his hat on top of his head when she walked towards him.

“Mr. Snoke, how do you do?”

Snoke sighed in annoyance and kept walking, but Rey kept up with him.

“Miss,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice. “I’ve already told you. If you want to apply, you are to call my office and leave your resume with my secretary. I have no time for this.”

“I prefer to do these interviews in person, sir ,” Rey said as she followed him across the street. She was trying to be courteous and professional, she really was. But she had talked to Snoke once before, and did not like him at all. However, he was the only person in town who still owned a company that connected aspiring actors to projects in the industry, therefore her only link to Ben Solo. And more than anything, she wanted to be in his new play. If she got the part, she was also hoping to ask Mr. Solo if he could possibly get Finn a part, who was leaving tomorrow morning. This was her only shot.

“Any smart girl would do what I’ve just told them,” Snoke snapped, reaching the sidewalk. Rey bristled at his words.

“If you will recall, I sent you my resume not too long ago, but you returned it unopened.”

“Then you have your answer. I am familiar with how Mr. Solo chooses his actors. He doesn’t just work with anyone. He is very particular.”

“At least one audition,” she petitioned, then forced herself to say, “Please.” Snoke made no response. Now in front of a restaurant and ready to be alone, he regarded her with a look of irritation. “One audition in front of him, Mr. Snoke. Just to show him what I can do.”

“Hmph. It’s too late, girl. He’s already chosen someone.”

Rey’s heart landed to the floor with a thud. “H-he has?”

“The play is cast.”

Any last hope she had of being able to make it in this city was completely shattered. This was the end for her. As a delicious scent reached her nose, Rey looked past Snoke and into the fancy restaurant. Waiters were setting down plates of food in front of wealthy customers. There was pasta, steak, salad, and the smell… Her stomach grumbled loudly.

“However,” Snoke suddenly added, and she came back to reality. He was looking her up and down. She, on instinct, backed away.

“However?” she repeated, cautious.

“I will give you some advice,” he said. “I suggest you use what you have. You’re not terrible-looking.”

Rey clenched her teeth. What exactly was he saying?

“A woman with your complexion shouldn’t have to starve, I suppose. There is a new place that has opened recently.” He took out a card and pen and scribbled onto it. “Ask for Unkar Plutt and tell him I sent you. You’ll make money there.” He held out the card.

Swallowing, she snatched the card from his hand. He sneered and went inside the restaurant. She took one last longing look at the food before walking away.

By the time Rey reached the address written on the card Snoke gave her, it was close to getting dark. To her horror, the place he’d recommended was exactly the kind of place she dreaded it was. Women walked together inside as groups, laughing and chattering away, while men entered the joint one by one, hats low on their heads to hide their faces somewhat. Her stomach did a flip. It was a peep show. Snoke had suggested she work at a peep show .

“Disgusting man,” she muttered under her breath. She stood at the edge of the sidewalk, a good distance away from the doors. The entrance was covered with posters of half-naked women, smiling at the camera while making provocative poses, exposing their bare bodies. Rey could see her reflection in the glass door. Her face looked like what she felt: terrified. There was a man hovering by the door as well, as if trying to decide if he wanted to go in or not.

Tears once again threatened to form as she turned her head away and walked down the street, crunching the card into a ball and throwing it away. As always, food was everywhere and constantly taunting her. She walked by a fruit stand, the vendor noticing her briefly before turning to help other customers. There was a large box of apples, just sitting there. She had no money on her, they were right in front of her, red and green, so inviting…

Rey’s mouth watered and before she could think twice, she picked one and made to shove it into her coat pocket, but not before the vendor’s hand caught her wrist.

“Hey!” he snarled. “You gonna pay for this?”

The blood drained from her face and she said nothing in shock, instead trying to rip her arm from his grip. He opened his mouth to shout once more.

“Excuse me,” a voice rang. Rey and the vendor turned to look at the source. A man appeared next to them and produced two pennies. He glanced at the vendor before making eye contact with Rey. “I believe you dropped these.”

Rey’s eyes widened. It was the man who’d been hovering in front of the peep show building. The vendor begrudgingly accepted the change before letting go of her and going back to his shop. She nervously regarded the man, who smiled at her.

“Poe Dameron,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Rey,” she replied, shaking hands before shoving her hands into her coat pockets.

“Nice to meet you, Rey. May I buy you dinner?”

Her stomach accepted very loudly, to which his smile widened and he led her to a diner nearby and ordered two servings of macaroni for her. She eagerly gobbled up one plate before she remembered her manners. She cleared her throat, sat up straight and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“Er, Mr. Dameron, you should know… I’m not in the habit of accepting charity from strangers,” she said, and her face colored in shame. “Or taking things that do not belong to me.”

“I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding,” Mr. Dameron said, waving a hand nonchalantly.

“It’s just that I haven’t been paid in a while,” she excused herself lamely. That was still no excuse to be stealing. “The theater I work out just closed down today. I was feeling quite hopeless.”

His eyes lit up when she said the word “theater.”

“So you’re an actress, huh? Fascinating. What theater was it?”

“The Lyric Vaudeville Revue.”

“Ah, Vaudeville,” he repeated, a fond look on his face, as if remembering something. “I worked Vaudeville a few years back. Now that is a tough audience. If you don’t kill ‘em fast, they’ll kill you. If you work at a place like that, then you must be a strong character.”

“Worked,” she corrected him. “And they didn’t even pay us.”

“That’s awful. Anyway, Miss Rey,” he said quickly. “Rey? May I call you Rey? Do you not have a last name?”

She smiled uneasily. “Just ‘Rey’ is fine.” She started her second plate of macaroni with gusto.

“Very well. You must be English, right?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful, love your accent. Rey, you wouldn’t have to be a size four, by chance would you?”

She paused, her fork hovering by her mouth as she stared at him. His expression looked innocent enough, but his words implied something else. Then his eyes widened as he realized what he said and she put her fork down.

“Oh no. No, no, no. Rey―”

“ Not interested ,” she retorted, getting up.

“You’ve got me all wrong, Miss Rey!” Mr. Dameron stood as well. “Please, I’m not that type of person at all.”

“Why type of person are you?” she asked, seething.

“I’m someone you can trust, Rey,” he said, raising his hands. “I’m a movie producer! Believe me, I am on the level. No funny business. Please, sit down.” He laughed nervously. Rey narrowed her eyes at him before slowly taking her seat.

“Thank you. Now Rey, I want you to imagine a clear picture in your mind,” he began, raising his hands in a more dramatic gesture. “A handsome explorer bound for the Far East―”

“You’re filming in the Far East?” she interrupted, resuming her meal. He nodded, a sly smile on his face.

“Asia, yes. This hero, on board ship, meets a mysterious girl. She’s beautiful, everyone is drawn to her, but she’s haunted, chased by a past she wishes to escape. And what she can’t escape is the feeling that forces beyond her control are compelling her down a road from which she cannot draw back.”

Rey’s attention was drawn. She looked up from her food and listened. His words sounded so familiar…

“It’s as if her whole life has been a prelude to this moment, this fateful meeting that changes everything,” Mr. Dameron continued in a near-whisper. “And sure enough, against her better judgement―”

“She falls in love,” Rey finished, eyes wide.

He nodded, happy she was catching on. “Yes.”

“But she doesn’t trust it,” she kept going, knowing who she was really talking about at this point. Her eyes dropped, looking at nothing. “She’s not even sure if she believes in love.”

“Ye―uh…” he paused. “Really?”

“If she loves someone,” she looked at him. “She’s doomed.”

“Why is that?” he asked, leaning forward.

“Good things never last, Mr. Dameron,” she said. She let out a slow breath as her shoulders sagged, forgetting about food.

“Huh,” he expressed, nodding. Then he shrugged. “So you’re interested. Good, it’s settled. Now, I hate to rush you, but we are actually under a bit of time pressure, so―”

Rey sat up. He wasn’t planning on leaving for Asia tonight, was he? This was all happening so fast. “I don’t know, I honestly―”

“Rey, I’m telling you, you’d be perfect for this part! Look at you, you’re the saddest girl I’ve ever met. You’re gonna break their hearts, Rey,” he grinned. “You’re gonna make ‘em weep. Just imagine it.”

She shook her head at him. “I'm afraid that’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Dameron. I don’t make people cry, I make them laugh. I’m not the leading lady you’re looking for.” She got up from her seat a final time and adjusted her bucket hat. She looked at him. “Good luck with your picture, really.” She nodded to him and strode across the diner to pick her coat of the rack.

“Rey?” Mr. Dameron got up as well. “Rey, please reconsider! What I’m offering you is not only money―fame, adventure, a sea voyage ― it’s the thrill of a lifetime! Would you like to read the script first? Ben Solo is delivering his first draft as we speak.”

Rey paused and turned around.

“Ben Solo?” she repeated. Every other word Mr. Dameron said basically went over her head, but this was a name she could not miss, no matter how softly it was spoken. “You know Ben Solo?”

“Sure, he’s an old pal of mine. We’ve known each other for years,” Mr. Dameron answered easily, waving a hand, then noticed her surprise. “Wait. Do you know him?”

“No. No, it’s not that,” Rey said. “I’ve just seen his plays.” Her face felt warm. “They’re amazing.”

“What a writer, right?” he acknowledged, voice full of praise. “And let me tell you, Rey. My buddy Ben wouldn’t want just anyone starring in this picture. He said to me, ‘Poe, there is a woman out there born to play this role.’ And as soon as I saw you, I knew…”

“Knew what?” Rey asked.

Mr. Dameron instead had a knowing glint in his eye as he smiled.

“It was always going to be you.”

Rey’s brow furrowed. She wasn’t sure Mr. Dameron meant when he said that. She still felt that, however lucky she was to get this opportunity, it was all happening very quickly. She couldn’t do this on her own.

“You really want me in your picture?” she asked, an idea forming.

“Absolutely! It’s gotta be you! No one else, you have my word.”

“Alright,” she said slowly but surely. “I’ll do it.”

“Yes!” Mr. Dameron shouted, earning strange looks from other patrons of the diner. He raised his hands in the air, looking up to the ceiling in thanks. “Now, if you’ll come with me, we’ve got a ship wai―”

“On one condition,” Rey interrupted. He stopped celebrating and smiled at her nervously.

“Name it,” he said.

“I’d like you to also give my friend a part, please.”

“Your friend?” Mr. Dameron looked unsure.

“He’s like family to me. If you included him in your picture, I’d be eternally grateful to you.”

“Well…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve already got someone for the male lead role. Hm…” His eyes lit up and his snapped his fingers. “We’ll add him in as an important crew member! How ‘bout that?”

“So he can come?” Rey’s heart began to soar.

“Of course! Let’s bring him on, the more the merrier!”

“Finn!” Rey once against burst through the door of his apartment. He was sitting in a rocking chair, listening to Ethel Waters on the radio. His expression was somber, but he stood up in surprise.

“Rey! Is everything okay? Don’t worry, my plane doesn’t leave until ten in the morning.”

“Forget about that, come with me!” Rey grabbed his suitcase in one hand, her own in the other. “I got us a job!”

“What? Rey, I dunno, I’ve got no hope for thea―”

“Not theater, it’s a moving picture, Finn!” She ran to him, holding his hands. “We’re gonna be in a picture! I’ve been offered the lead role, and they’re going to write you a character, too!”

“Wha―are you serious? Is this real?” He pinched himself. “This is real!”

“Yes, the producer will tell you all the details on the way, but right now we need to hurry. We’re filming on a ship and it’s taking off soon.”

She knew that her explanation was far too short and he’d have more questions, but she beamed at the renewed hope in his eyes. He accepted his suitcase and they raced out of the apartment building and into the cab where Mr. Dameron was waiting for them. Finn introduced himself.

“Good to meet you, Finn, I’m Poe Dameron.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Dameron!”

The movie producer told the cab driver to step on it, and they raced through the darkening streets of New York. Rey held onto Finn’s arm. Her heart was racing and she figured his was too. This was their big chance, and they’d be doing it together. Rey wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

It took them some time to reach the edge of the city where the harbor was waiting for them. Rey stepped out of the cab in awe, staring up at an enormous vessel. It was charcoal black, was almost 200 feet tall and 1,000 feet in length. It had three smoke shafts and in big white letters were the words SS Supremacy painted against the dark metal. Finn whistled in appreciation.

“Is this the moving picture ship?” Rey asked Mr. Dameron, who had just finished paying the driver.

“Huh?” He turned to see what she was looking at. “Oh! Well, uh―no.” He forced out a laugh. “It’s this one over here…” He led them further along the dock to another ship. This one was much smaller, a quarter the size of the Supremacy . It was less than 50 feet in height, 200 feet in length, had one smoke shaft at the top, and Rey couldn’t even make out the name. The ship must have been so old that paint had mostly peeled off. But she loved it even more. Sure, it wasn’t an ocean liner, but she could tell this old boat had history.

“This one’s nice, too,” Finn piped up, remaining optimistic. They continued to follow Mr. Dameron, who was anxiously telling the camera crew to get their equipment ready and get on board.

“Captain Chewie!” he called, approaching a tall man. “Cast off! Hoist up the mainsail, raise the anchor, whatever the hell it is you do. We gotta leave!”

“Well, he’s sure in a rush,” Finn muttered to Rey. She nodded. It was a little odd. Earlier at the diner he was ushering her out then, as well. Mr. Dameron kept glancing around him, as if afraid someone would see him. But who?

Captain Chewie, who was a man in his sixties, communicated something to Mr. Dameron using sign language. He was calm but his face showed that he was not ready to leave yet.

“What’d he say?” Mr. Dameron asked, a little exasperatedly, another elderly man next to the captain. He seemed dwarfed by the captain’s seven feet height.

“Good evening to you, too,” the man said politely and serenely. “Chewie says that he is waiting for the manifest.”

“English, please, Threepio.”

“Paperwork, Mr. Dameron.”

Mr. Dameron seemed especially on edge now. He glanced at the two actors who watched in confusion, then muttered to Threepio, “I’ll give you another thousand to leave right now.”

Captain Chewie gestured with his hands once more, his brow furrowing.

“As we recall,” Threepio translated. “You haven’t given us the first thousand yet.”

Mr. Dameron guffawed loudly, startling everyone. Then his face turned serious and his voice was low. “Can we talk about this later? Can’t you see we’re in the company of VIP guests?”

The captain and Threepio then noticed Rey and Finn standing there, some paces away, watching with confusion evident on their faces.

“Why, pleased to meet you, ma’am, sir! I am Threepio, first mate to Captain Chewie and this ship!”

“Pleased to meet you as well, Mr. Threepio,” Rey said, grinning and they shook hands. “I’m Rey and this is my friend Finn.”

“Happy to be here,” Finn added.

Captain Chewie tapped Threepio’s shoulder, then signed something. Rey wished more than anything that she knew American Sign Language. She already liked the captain and Threepio.

“Chewie welcomes you to his ship, The Falcon , and asks if you are nervous about the trip.”

“Nervous?” Rey repeated, exchanging glances with Finn. “Why would we be nervous?”

Chewie once more moved his hands and then looked pointedly at Mr. Dameron.

“He says it isn’t everyone who takes such risk.”

Rey’s brow furrowed as she looked over at Mr. Dameron, whose eyes widen and then he waved his hands.

“Why don’t I show you guys to your rooms, haha! Right this way,” he gently pushed them towards the ramp to board the ship. He looked back and Chewie and Threepio. “Two thousand, it’s a deal? Do you take a check?”

“It appears we don’t have a choice, Mr. Dameron,” Threepio answered as he crossed his arms.

Rey took a deep breath as she looked down at the ramp. She had a feeling that whatever was on this ship was going to change her future forever. Now determined, she marched up the ramp and past the other crew members as Mr. Dameron directed her and Finn where to go.

It wasn’t just the film they were going to shoot, there was something else about this ship, as if there was something waiting for her. Whatever it was, she hoped it would alter her life for the better.

Chapter Text

Ben Solo waited impatiently in a cabin on the ship, constantly checking his wristwatch on his left hand and clutching a stack of papers in his right. The window was open and a waft of sea salt reached his nostrils. He didn’t like the ocean; it made him sick. He hoped Poe would be here soon and he could get off this old boat, especially this one.

Finally, Poe raced up the stairs to the cabin and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Ben.

“Oh, it’s you,” Poe said with relief, putting a hand on his chest. They had been best friends since childhood and Poe was like a brother to Ben, but sometimes he irritated the hell out of him. Ben stared up at him in disbelief. What in the world was he doing to make him wait this long?

“Listen,” Poe rambled on as he took off his hat and coat, throwing it onto a sagging cot. He cautiously looked out the window of the cabin, as if he was waiting for someone. “If anyone comes to the door, don’t open it. You haven’t seen me. Just tell ‘em I was depressed and took a dunk in the ocean.” He hurried over to a box which contained twelve glass bottles of lemon cordial ― probably something to take the edge off, whatever was bothering him. He took one out and offered it to Ben. “Want one?”

“No, you know I don’t drink. Anyway, I can’t stay. I have a rehearsal for which I am now―” Ben glanced at his wristwatch, his annoyance beginning to creep in his voice. “― three hours late.” Ben practically waved his small bundle of papers in his face for him to take.

“What’s this?” Poe asked.

“The script.”

Poe eagerly accepted it and flipped through the pages, then paused.

“Uh, Ben?”

“Yeah?” Ben was now putting on his coat, preparing to go outside, but he never wore a hat to cover his dark, wavy hair.

“This is a script? Ben, this is fifteen pages,” Poe turned to him, gripping the pages tightly but trying not to rip them.

“I know, but they’re good,” Ben offered. “You’ve got fifteen good pages there, Poe.” He adjusted the collar of his coat and nodded to him, preparing to walk down the stairs.

Poe made three strides across the room, holding out the papers. “I’m supposed to be making a feature-length picture.”

Ben shrugged, apologetic. “You told me I had more time.” He took another glimpse at his watch. It was nearly ten p.m. “Look, I gotta go.”

“Hang on, Ben! I’m sure the script’s great, but you gave me a beginning. I need a middle and an end. I gotta have something to shoot!”

“You got my notes,” Ben said, raising a hand. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I gotta be there for rehearsal.” He started down the stairs. He needed to hurry; he could already hear the ship’s engine rumble to life beneath his feet.

“All right, fine. We might as well settle up.”

Ben stopped. Was Poe joking? He didn’t really have any money on him… did he?

“You’re gonna pay me,” he spoke, doubt coloring his voice. Poe looked betrayed.

“I’m not gonna stiff a friend,” he retorted. “How’s two grand sound?”

“I’ve just never known you to volunteer cash before,” Ben answered cautiously. Poe took out a little book from the inside of his jacket.

“Not cash, but a check, my friend. So, two grand?”

Ben narrowed his eyes, but didn’t argue, which Poe took as a yes. Outside the window, the voices of the captain and ship mates yelled back and forth to one another, preparing to set sail. As long as Poe wrote the check quickly, he should be fine…

It took him fifteen seconds to scribble onto the narrow sheet of paper before ripping it off the seam and handing it to Ben.

“Thanks,” Ben mumbled, about to pocket it before reading it. He sighed. “Poe, you’ve written ‘two grand.’”

Poe’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Ben handed it back in exasperation. Poe ripped it up, shrugged and started again.

“Hm, so I did.”

Ben then felt and heard an explosion of smoke burst from the ship’s smokeshaft. Poe’s pen hovered above a brand new check.

“It’s the 29th today, right?”

“Poe, it’s the 25th,” Ben said, trying not to lose his temper.  Beside him, the box of lemon cordial bottles began to shake. The ship was going to leave the harbor. Poe ripped the paper again.

“I’m sorry, it’ll just take a sec.”

“Never mind, just pay me when you get back,” Ben fumed, making for the exit again.

“All right,” Poe said with a shrug. Then the ship began to move and Ben’s heart stopped.

“No, no, no” he repeated under his breath as he tried to run down the narrow halls of the ship, but was blocked by another man.

“Ah, perfect. I could use some help at the moment,” the man, who had an English accent, greeted him. He had a trail of suitcases behind him. “Do lend a hand, will you? I’ll make sure to tip you.” Ben groaned in frustration and raced towards the other end of the hall. “Thanks for nothing!” The man yelled after him.

By the time he finally made it outside, it was too late. The boat was already too far from the dock and there was no way he could jump it. He clenched his fists. He was gonna murder Poe…

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” the man himself said, coming to stand by Ben at the railing. “There’s no money in theater, Ben.” Poe smiled. “You’re better off sticking with film.”

Ben sighed, his anger fading. He sat on a pile of wooden boxes, defeated. “I don’t do it for the money, Poe.” He looked at the harbor, which was now getting smaller with each passing second. The play director would probably think him dead or missing now. “I love the theater.”

“No, you don’t.” Poe’s smile widened, a glint in his eye. He pat Ben’s shoulder roughly. “If you really loved it, you woulda jumped.”

Ben shook his head at his old friend.

“Also,” Poe added, looking gleeful. “We got a new leading lady. I fired the old one.”

“Did you fire her, or did she quit?” Ben asked, figuring it was the latter. Poe pretended he couldn’t hear him and they both watched the harbor. “Why did you pick this ship?”

Poe hesitated at first. “You know why. If I hired anyone else, it’d be so much more expensive. This was my only option.”

Suddenly, a pair of police cars appeared and nearly drove into the ocean. Several men got out and were shouting, waving their arms frantically. Ben looked at them, then at Poe, who watched them with satisfaction. Ben rolled his eyes and decided to go back inside. He didn’t want to worry too much about what his friend had gotten himself tangled up in. Not only did he have a script to write, but he had his inevitable seasickness to be concerned with.

He tried to ignore the waves crashing against the ship as he staggered through the hallways. He was not looking forward to this trip at all. Where was he going to sleep? There weren’t many cabins on this ship and by the number of people Poe had hired for this expedition, Ben guessed there wasn’t any room for himself. After all, his friend hadn’t originally planned for him to come along; he had actually expected the script to be finished by the time they set sail.

Poe was a great producer and was known for making a lot of documentaries, but when it came to making an actual feature with characters and story, it seemed he was still unaware how long it took to actually craft such a thing. In fact, it was just this morning that Poe called him up and asked him to start writing a screenplay, saying, “You’ve got plenty of time! Thanks, buddy!” Plenty of time, indeed…

Ben tried to sneak past the pilot house but was ultimately unsuccessful, as he heard a chipper voice call out, “Goodness! It’s Ben Solo!”

He froze and turned to the open doorway of the pilot house. Standing in it was Threepio and Chewie, who was at the wheel and glancing over.

“Threepio,” Ben greeted roughly. “It’s been a while.”

“Yes, it has!” Threepio beamed. “I am pleased that you remember me, so many years have passed. Chewie, look who it is, it’s―” Chewie gave him a look to say that yes, he knew who it was. Threepio cleared his throat. “I seem to remember there was attention needed in the boiler room. If you’ll excuse me…” He scooted past Ben’s big frame down the stairs and in the opposite direction of the boiler room.

Ben stood in the doorway awkwardly, not wanting to move but also not wanting to be there. He suddenly had the thought that Poe didn’t hire The Falcon just because he was saving money. Damn him.

“How have you been?” Chewie said through sign language, turning fully to face Ben. His great height made his head barely skim the low ceiling.

Ben’s practiced hands answered, “Fine. Poe tricked me into coming, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Chewie smiled. “If you say so.” He then paused. “I talked to your father the other day.”

Ben’s brow furrowed and he frowned deeply as he watched Chewie finish.

“He and your mother seem to be doing alright. They’d be happy to hear how you are doing, however.”

Looking up at the man who was like his uncle, Ben answered in frustration, “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Okay.”

There was another pause. The ship hit another wave and Ben’s stomach did a flip. He tried not to show how nauseous he was as he asked awkwardly, “Where can I stay on this ship?”

The captain looked disappointed. “The only place left is in the hold. Have Threepio show you.”

Ben walked out without saying anything further. He didn’t need Threepio to show him, he knew this ship like the back of his hand―or at least he used to. And show him Threepio did, all smiles as he took him into the deepest, darkest part of the vessel. Once a smuggling ship, The Falcon still had some of the old equipment Ben’s father and Chewie used many years ago, including mountains of crates, piles of rope and (the part that frightened Ben the most as a child) big, black cages.

“Why is this stuff all still here?” Ben wondered aloud in distaste as he eyed the enclosures. He had a hard time navigating through the narrow, cramped space.

“They turned out to be useful, in the end,” Threepio answered. “We mostly put food and other supplies in them so they don’t scatter about the hold, but we’ve also used them for…”

They walked up to one cage which contained a lantern, a desk made from stacked crates and the least inviting of all, a bed.

“...guests,” Threepio finished. He gestured to a typewriter and a stack of blank papers which sat on top of the “desk.” Perfect. “I brought those down for you, just as Mr. Dameron requested. Is there anything I can get for you, Ben? Everyone except for a few of the crew will soon be going to sleep. I suggest you do as well.”

The ship then rocked, probably hitting yet another massive wave in the Atlantic Ocean, and Ben’s stomach was reaching its limit. This is what he had to look forward to: getting sick, typing, and then getting even more sick because of the typing.

“I don’t need anything,” he said shortly, ducking under the bars to get inside the cage. He added quietly, “Thanks, Threepio.”

The older man smiled warmly at him. “Anytime. Breakfast is at seven. Let Chewie or I know if there is anything you need. Good night, Ben.” He left as Ben sat on the rickety old cot. He was afraid he’d break it before they reached their destination. The workaholic in him wanted to start a few pages of the script before going to sleep, but his head and insides told him that was a terrible idea. He groaned and landed on his pillow, hearing the frame of the cot squeak.

Despite being on this very ship on multiple occasions since he was a child, Ben never got used to the motion sickness. His mother scolded him time after time to stop coming aboard The Falcon since he would just be miserable, but that was the only wait he really got to spend any quality time with his father. It used to be so important to him, more than anything. Now, he couldn’t care less. This ship was the last place he’d rather be.

“This moving picture had better be worth it,” he thought before blowing out the lantern and shutting his eyes for the night.

* * * * * * * *

Rey had just finished putting in her curlers to wear to sleep when she heard a knock at her door. She walked across the small space of her cabin and opened the door just a crack, calling out, “Hello?”

“It’s just me,” Finn’s voice said. She opened it wider and smiled, inviting him in. She reached for a silk cloth on her nightstand and tied it around her hair to cover the curlers.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Trooper?” she asked in a business-like manner, hands on her hips. He snorted.

“Just wanted to check on you, peanut. How’s your room? Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, actually. Yours?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Finn expressed with a shrug. “My pillow is pretty nice, got lots of feathers…”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t actually come here to talk about pillows, did you?”

He smiled. “You got me there.” He closed the door and suddenly his face was frantic. “Rey, I’m a little suspicious of Mr. Dameron. Why was he in such a hurry this evening? And he was acting really strange with Captain Chewie and Mr. Threepio.”

She stroked her chin, contemplating. “Yes, I quite agree. He was like that during the drive to the harbor as well. I definitely think he’s hiding something, but I’m not sure what. Fortunately, I don’t think he’s actively putting our lives in danger. However…”

“However?”

“I don’t think he’s being entirely truthful with us. Don’t you remember what the captain was trying to tell us earlier? About us taking a great risk?”

“Do you think he’s done this kind of thing before?”

“Perhaps.” Rey sat on her bed and looked up at him. “How much did he offer to pay you?”

“Two grand,” Finn answered. “You?”

“Same for me.”

There was a long pause before he suggested, “Should we confront him?”

“I think―” she began, but then there was another knock on Rey’s door. She put a finger to her lips and went to answer it. Standing there was Mr. Dameron himself. He smiled.

“Good evening, Rey,” he greeted politely. “May I come in? Ah, Finn, perfect. I was just about to come see you, too.” It was starting to get crowded with three people in one cabin.

“What is it, Mr. Dameron?” Finn asked, hedging a little.

The producer put his hands together. “I’ve got some exciting news! We don’t have a first draft. We’ve got the first fifteen pages, and we’re scheduled to start shooting very soon, probably within the next day or two.”

Rey and Finn gave him blank stares.

“And this is exciting news?” she questioned.

“I was just about to get to that! Not only do we have an incredible cast―meaning you, Rey, Finn and Hux―as well as my extraordinary film crew, we’ve also got our screenwriter on board!”

Finn still looked befuddled, but Rey caught on immediately. Her jaw dropped. “Ben Solo―You’re saying Ben Solo is here on the ship? Here? On The Falcon ?”

“Yes! Is there a problem?”

“Not at all,” Rey answered, her smile wide and genuine. She couldn’t believe it, not only was she acting in a picture written by Ben Solo, but the writer himself was on the same vessel as her!

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my story,” Poe continued, hands in his pockets. “I have complete faith in him, and I hope you will, too.”

“Of course Rey will,” Finn assured him as he looked at Rey with a teasing smile. “She's his biggest fan.”

She nudged him. “So we’ll be working with Mr. Solo, then?”

“ Very closely,” Poe confirmed with a grin, which Rey returned. It was definitely odd that that the script was not only incomplete, but that it would be written while they were shooting, but that was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment.

“Thank you, Poe. This is indeed exciting news. I look forward to meeting Mr. Solo, as well as the rest of the production crew, tomorrow morning. If you please, I think I ought to get to bed now.”

“Of course! You get some rest, and I’ll see you both tomorrow morning, seven a.m. sharp!” He waved goodbye and left.

All suspicions against Poe temporarily forgotten, Finn wiggled his eyebrows at Rey before heading to his own room. Rey rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head as she closed her door and lay under the covers. Suddenly, a feeling of excitement and nervousness overcame her. She really was a big fan of Ben Solo’s work, and now she was actually going to meet him!

What was he doing right at this moment? Rey felt giddy just thinking about it. He was probably working tirelessly on the script for the picture, slaving away in the late hours of the night. Yes, of course, that was it! Someone with such amazing stories to tell would be working non-stop, producing play after play for the many people who loved his work, Rey being one of them.

Rey fell asleep quickly, imagining the scenario in which she would meet Mr. Solo.

She woke up at nearly six the next morning. The moment of meeting the writer quickly erased any thoughts of sleep from her mind, so she sat up in bed instead, brainstorming what she would say.

“It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Solo! I’ve read everything you’ve ever written and seen all of your plays since I arrived in New York two years ago!”

No, too much. That sounded like she was just buttering up to him. Sure, she wanted to make a good first impression, but she didn’t want him to think she was only flattering him.

“Mr. Solo, pleased to make your acquaintance. I believe I’ve heard your name somewhere. Oh, me? I’ve had such a busy schedule but I made time to come work with Poe.”

That wouldn’t do at all. Not only was that too egotistical, it was telling a complete lie. Rey was not a liar. She wanted to be genuine.

“Hello, it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Solo. My name is Rey. I am familiar with your work and look forward to working with you on this picture.”

Much better. That would do just fine.

When seven o’ clock finally came, Rey nearly skipped to the mess hall where Poe said they’d be meeting, repeating over and over her rehearsed greeting in her head. As she entered the room, she was unaware that she drew the attention of almost all of the occupants, for she was looking for Mr. Solo. Of course, she still didn’t know what he looked like, but she scanned almost every man’s face before she considered who he could be. There was Finn, Poe, a man who was cooking porridge, one was fiddling the a camera lens, etc.

“Rey, come in!” Poe greeted. “Let me introduce you to everyone―you’ve already met the captain and Threepio.”

“Good morning, Miss Rey,” Threepio said kindly as Captain Chewie smiled at her. She waved shyly.

Rey was introduced to the Tico sisters―Rose, was the sound recordist and Paige, who specialized in hair, makeup and wardrobe. They said hello and smiled warmly at her, and Rey looked forward to working with them. Mr. Dameron also presented additional members of the film crew, and he seemed to be leaving one person for last.

“Here’s Klaud, our trusted cameraman, and finally―”

He pointed to a man who was seated at the table, looking over what looked like a script.

“―I don’t believe you’ve met him yet,” Mr. Dameron finished as he gestured to the man and Rey swallowed nervously. “Uh… Rey?”

She took a step forward and he looked up from the papers, staring back at her.

“That’s alright, Mr. Dameon,” she said quietly. “I know who this is.” She stuck out a hand. “Thrilled to meet you. It’s an honor to be a part of this.”

He nodded stiffly and shook her hand quickly. It wasn’t the reaction Rey had been hoping for, but she wouldn’t be discouraged so easily.

“I’m actually quite familiar with your work,” she continued, beginning to be aware of everyone watching her now.

“Ah,” he acknowledged with a nod, smirking a little. “Yes, well, many are.” Rey tilted her head. She didn’t know Ben Solo was English like her. His manner also didn’t scream “playwright”, either. With his flaming red hair and good-looking yet sharp face, Rey couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed with meeting the person who she’d admired since she first came to New York. Finn, who was still eating his breakfast, smiled into his fist. Behind her, Rey heard footsteps of someone else entering the room.

“Pardon me, Mr. Solo, perhaps I’m just really surprised―after all, your face has always been a mystery to the public―”

The man raised an eyebrow, not sure how to respond. Mr. Dameron then tried to step in.

“Um, Rey? Actually―”

“But it is an honor to finally meet you,” she said with a smile. “Actually, I was afraid that as a playwright, you might be one of those literary types.”

“Rey,” Mr. Dameron cut in. He suddenly looked past her, noticing something and getting anxious as he forced out a laugh. “Let’s stop right there.”

“Excuse me.” The man in front of her raised a hand. “I’m afraid you’ve―”

“You know,” Rey said. “The tweedy twerp with his nose stuck in a book and his head up his―”

Behind her, right next to her ear, a book slammed shut and the room fell silent. Even Captain Chewie did not look so relaxed and Finn was giving her a look that said, “Stop while you’re ahead.” Rey turned around to the source of the noise and her smile melted. Standing in front of her was a man who towered over her. His long, dark hair framed his face and his brown eyes were piercing into her own. A book held in one hand was held tightly and his expression told her that he had taken offense to her comments. Her stomach dropped to the floor. This couldn’t be―

“Rey,” Mr. Dameron announced. “I’d like you to meet Mr. Ben Solo, our writer for this moving picture.”

Rey wanted to blurt out an apology, to run out of the mess hall, but her throat closed up and her legs wouldn’t move as she and Mr. Solo stared at each other. This was possibly the worst first impression she had ever given anyone in her entire life, and it was to a playwright whose work she’d been following for two years! Would he yell at her? Demand she’d be taken out of the picture? Throw her aboard?

Instead, the longer he looked at her, the more his eyes widened and his breath caught, as if he recognized her.

“It is you,” he suddenly said. His voice was soft but could be heard by everyone in the room. The tension between them was palpable, but it was more than that. Mr. Solo gazed at her, eyes wandering over her face, taking in every detail and he swallowed. Rey watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down and she was transfixed with his features: his long, pale face, his plush, red lips and the numerous freckles and beauty marks that were scattered across like stars. She felt for a moment that it was only the two of them in the room, but she knew that wasn’t really so. She blinked. She was caught off guard by his words, but she knew she ought to try and introduce herself properly. She had memorized her one line of greeting, now was time to use it!

“Hello, it’s very nice to mee―” she began, throwing out a hand to shake. Instead, her fingers collided with a stray bowl of porridge and it was sent flying, tipping over and spilling everywhere, including onto Mr. Solo’s maroon sweater.

There were gasps and Rey’s hands flew to her mouth. Her face was on fire.

“I’m so sorry!” she was finally able to say. Her legs gained mobility again and she fled from the room. She ran outside as far away from the incident as possible. She stopped at the railing on the far side of the ship and held onto it, knuckles turning white and head bowed as she looked down at the sea beneath her. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, her short curls hitting her face. Surely, Mr. Solo hated her by now, and she still wasn’t sure what to make of those words he’d said to her. And she couldn’t deny that in that moment that they first saw each other, Rey felt something, an electricity she wasn’t aware of before. But that didn’t matter now.

She groaned in frustrated and ran her hands through her hair, trying to calm herself and breathe in the salty air. This trip would be the end of her, she just knew it.

What she didn’t know was that back in the mess hall, Ben Solo was still standing in the same spot, looking down at his stained clothes, but not really paying attention to anything. His face was slightly pink and if his ears were not hidden by his long hair, they’d be bright red. Poe Dameron cleared his throat.

“So… what do you think of our new leading lady, Ben?”

Chapter Text

Down in The Falcon ’s hold, not even the limited amount of sunlight could make up for the dirty, uninviting atmosphere. Ben had positioned the old typewriter on top of an empty crate so that he could sit comfortably as possible on his bed and write at the same time, though to say that it was “comfortable” would be a lie. It was torture, being on this ship. He’d hardly eaten anything due to his serious seasickness―nothing would stay down. Since breakfast, he’d already vomited over the edge of the ship twice. Chewie offered him water and encouraged him to stay hydrated, but there was nothing else he could do. Ben would just have to wait it out.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, shook his head and fit a fresh piece of paper into the machine in front of him. He was now wearing a clean, white dress shirt, having changed after the porridge incident with Miss Rey. While he was confined to his cage, Poe paced around the hold, calling out instructions as to what to write.

“She’s standing at the railing,” he said with his hands in front of him, picturing the shot. “She doesn’t know it yet, but soon a fantastic expedition awaits her.”

“Okay, so she turns,” Ben added, pounding keys angrily, trying to distract himself from the uneven swaying of his surroundings. “And sees the first mate is staggering towards her. There’s a knife sticking out of his back.”

Poe broke out of his reverie and turned around. “Wait, we’re killing off the first mate?”

“That’s assuming she knows who the first mate is.”

“Come on, Ben. It was an honest mistake. Rey is nearsighted―could’ve happened to anyone. Hux isn’t as famous as he thinks he is, really. And how was she supposed to recognize you when you refuse to have your picture taken?”

“I was joking, Poe.” Ben frowned. He didn’t actually think ill of Miss Rey. He was probably just as embarrassed, if not more, by letting the words “it is you” slip out of his mouth. He also didn’t think his statement just now would be taken so seriously. He supposed he wasn’t really the joking type to begin with. “Also, I doubt she’s nearsighted. You’re just making that up.”

“That’s not the point,” Poe said quickly, changing the topic. “Besides, we’re not making a murder mystery, we’re making a romance here, a romance!”

“Since when did you take an interest in love stories, anyway?” Ben asked skeptically, folding his arms. “You’re known for being the guy who shoots documentaries, and they always turn out really good. Why the sudden change in genre?”

“Oh, you know, I wanted to expand my palate,” Poe answered with a smile, but Ben could tell it was strained. He kept telling himself that he shouldn’t worry about his friend’s strange behavior, that it was just Poe being Poe, but clearly there was something wrong.

However, just as Ben knew that Poe had been faking his optimism since the beginning of this trip and there was a reason for making this particular kind of moving picture, he also knew that Poe didn’t want to talk about it, so he decided to give it up for now.

“Alright,” Ben said. “Expand away, I’m all ears.”

“Good. Moving on,” Poe spoke, beginning to pace again. “Rey’s character does have a mysterious past that comes into play later, but the story at its core is about love. It’s romantic, it’s passionate―help me out here, you’ve written this kind of stuff before.” He snapped his fingers.

“Okay.” Ben resumed his typing. “So she turns around, lost in thought until she sees the island…”

Later, Ben sat at the dining table in the mess hall for another meeting with Poe and the cast and crew, except for the new actress, who reported that she would be coming in shortly after Mr. Trooper went to check on her.

No one made any eye contact with Ben, except for Hux, a semi-well-known actor in the moving picture business and leading male character for Poe’s project. Hux sneered across the table at Ben.

“So you’re the writer, eh?” he acknowledged. “Couldn’t be bothered to help with my luggage yesterday, could you?”

Ben ignored him, feeling no obligation to answer. Poe cleared his throat and all attention was turned to him.

“Good morning, everyone. I’d like to officially wel―” he began, but was interrupted when the door opened, revealing Miss Rey. She muttered an apology before taking a seat next to Mr. Trooper. Her face was flushed and her eyes were glued to the table.

“Ahem, as I was saying,” Poe tried again. “I’d like to officially welcome you all aboard The Falcon ! Captain Chewie and Threepio will take good, good care of us. Now, as you may already know, Ben Solo and I go way back and I’m really looking forward to having such a fantastic writer for our picture.” He beamed at Ben, who nodded in return. As much as they always tended to annoy each other, Ben was happy that any picture he was asked to work on was Poe’s. Ben wasn’t inclined to showing any affection to anyone, even if he was really was close to them, but he suddenly felt a rush brotherly love for his childhood friend.

“I’m honored to be here,” he said quietly and Poe was all smiles.

“So,” the movie producer continued. “A few things we need to go over before shooting begins. Paige, what of the wardrobe? Since Fay Wray is no longer with us to play the female lead, how does Miss Rey fit in her outfits?”

“Perfectly,” Paige reported. “It’s a miracle they’re both a size four.”

“Excellent. Rose, you mentioned something about background noise?”

“Yes,” Rose answered. “I checked the equipment before breakfast. Everything seems to be in order. As long as you don’t mind seagulls in the actors’ dialogue, we should be fine,” she joked.

The corner of Ben’s mouth lifted slightly at her quip. He liked the Tico sisters; they were always friendly and easy to work with. Poe carried on with production details, then finally addressed Hux and Miss Rey.

“Now, our two main characters, the lovers of this story, you are what makes this picture come to life. I have here the first fifteen pages of the script―if we can go over this please―”

Copies were passed around and the plot and dialogue discussed. Ben then noticed Miss Rey as she read over his work, suddenly wanting to know what she thought. She said nothing, concentrating on the writing. Her brow was knit together as she read, a thin crease in the middle. The quickly rising sun shot rays through the window and landed on her dark eyelashes, accenting them and making them seem longer. She had freckles that lightly splashed across her cheeks and a sharp nose, also slightly scrunched up in her deep focus. Her curls fell just past her chin and her neck was arched as she bent over the pages. A closed fist rose to support her chin, showing her small hands and thin fingers. Ben found himself transfixed by her.

Then, as if she could feel his gaze upon her, her head lifted and her brown eyes pierced his own in surprise for a moment before he averted his gaze. He tried to pay attention as Poe went over the little details of the characters and story with everyone, explaining the romance plot, hinting at secretive backstory of Ann, Rey’s character, and the brave adventurer Jack, played by Hux.

“And Finn, you’ll be the skipper,” Poe informed Mr. Trooper, who grinned.

“Swell! I’ll have to ask Captain Chewie for some tips.”

“Good luck, Captain Finn,” Miss Rey teased, resting a hand on top of his. He winked at her, and Ben started to feel the annoying, unwelcome, beginnings of jealousy. He hardly knew this woman, so why’d he have to feel this way? Perhaps he was just confusing himself with how beautiful she was and because he recognized her from a few months ago, in addition to her spilling food on him this morning.

“If there are no further questions,” Poe said, finishing the discussion. “We’ll be shooting tomorrow at noon. This first scene is important, so it’s crucial that we have as much sunlight as possible.”

“Actually, I have something to say,” Hux spoke.

“Yes?”

“Well, two things. First, why do we not have a completed script? I’ve starred in many moving pictures, as you all know―besides you, of course,” he added to Miss Rey, who looked shocked at his comment. “―and I’m surprised to find out that the writer has not finished the story.” He looked pointedly at said writer.

“Well, Mr. Hux,” Poe said before Ben could speak up. “We had some delay in pre-production, sadly, and the two of us are writing the script while we shoot. We’d appreciate your cooperation and patience with us.”

“And secondly,” Hux continued. “I do not like my character’s dialogue.”

“What?” Ben snapped. Normally he was open to criticism in his work, but coming from Hux, it just irritated him. He’d only heard Hux’s name before meeting him on this trip, but he had a feeling working with him was going to be a long and stressful project. “Care to explain?” He could feel Miss Rey’s eyes on him now.

“I just don’t like it,” Hux responded, very matter-of-factly. He turned to Poe. “Mr. Dameron, would you care if I incorporated a few ideas of my own during the shoot tomorrow? I have some input that I believe could improve Jack’s character.”

“Be my guest,” Poe agreed, ignoring Ben’s anger. “Might make it better, eh, Ben?”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see.”

Now in the pilot house with Chewie, Ben signed and talked at the same time, hands moving in a fury.

“…I have never been so disrespected like that ever in my career,” he told Chewie, who watched with a little amusement. “And on top of that, it was in front of my peers! I wish Poe could get a different actor to play Jack.”

“Unless we throw him overboard,” Chewie responded, smiling. “We’re stuck with him.”

Ben sighed. “I know.” At his feet lay two snoozing dogs: Artoo and Beebeeate. Suddenly, their heads perked up as Threepio walked in.

“Oh, they’re pleased to see me!” he exclaimed, happy to be noticed. “Oh…” he added solemnly as they went past him and out the door. “It’d be best if they didn’t go wandering about the ship from now on, Chewie. They’ve been leaving several presents around.”

“I’ll get them,” Ben offered. As he made for the stairs, he saw two wagging tails head for the cabins. Fatigue and nausea aside, he thought he might learn to enjoy his time on The Falcon. Sure, he wasn’t on the best of terms with one of the original owners (a.k.a. his father), but Chewie was like an uncle to him and it was good to catch up after such a long time. He’d even told Ben that he and Threepio always attended one of his plays whenever they were in production and whenever they were in New York. Ben wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was touched.

As he entered the narrow hallways leading to the sleeping quarters on this part of the ship, Ben somehow lost track of Artoo and Beebeeate until he heard an, “Oh, hello there!” coming from one area. He recognized her voice immediately. He rounded a corner and saw Miss Rey enthusiastically greeting the two dogs, rubbing their bellies and patting their heads as they wagged their tails in response.

“Are you two lost?” she cooed, a wide grin on her face. She had not yet seen Ben. “And what are your names? Let’s see…” She made to read their collars when Ben stepped forward awkwardly. Miss Rey stood immediately, hands behind her back, looking ashamed as if she thought she’d be in trouble for petting the dogs.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean to bother your pets. I just thought―”

“They’re not mine,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat. “Artoo―he’s a mixed breed―is an old family friend, and Beebeeate, the corgi, belongs to Poe. You don’t need to apologize.” He squatted down and the two dogs happily approached him. He added, “They seem to like you a lot.”

Miss Rey mimicked his action so Beebeeate would return to her. “Well, I like them back.” Her smile returned just a little, then faded when she glanced at him. Had he made her feel uncomfortable? He hadn’t meant to. Perhaps he ought to leave―

“Actually, I do need to apologize,” she spoke, a troubled look on her face. “About what happened this morning. I’m really, really sorry I spilled porridge on you.”

Ah, so that was what had been bothering her, that was why she looked like she wanted to bolt when she saw him come in just now. She thought he was still angry with her, when he hadn’t been in the first place.

“Well then,” he said quietly. He scooted forward, with some difficulty because of the dogs in between them and the narrow hallway, and held out his hand. “It’s nice to officially meet you. Ben Solo.”

Her smile once more returned, a full smile, as they shook hands. “The pleasure is all mine. I’m Rey.”

“Rey…?” he repeated, looking for a surname.

“Just Rey, Mr. Solo.”

“Where are you from, Miss Rey?”

“A tiny little beach town in England called Southwold,” she answered.

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of it.”

“That’s alright. Where are you from, Mr. Solo?”

“Mishawaka, Indiana. Have you heard of it?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Then I guess we’re even,” Ben said, and that earned another smile from her. “If you don’t mind me asking, why no last name?”

“Never knew what it was. At the orphanage, all the sisters ever knew was that my name was ‘Rey’.” She shrugged and was clearly not looking for pity, so Ben was not surprised when she turned the topic of conversation to him.

“What did you mean when you said Artoo was an old family friend?” she asked.

“Oh,” he began uneasily. “Artoo’s been in the family since I was a teenager―my father got him when he was a puppy.”

“But he’s here on The Falcon ? Artoo, I mean.”

“Yes, Chewie knew how much he liked the sea after so many years, so he decided to keep him around.”

“Ah.” Miss Rey seemed to have reached a conclusion. “I thought you seemed to know Captain Chewie and Threepio so well. They must have worked together for years, along with your father. That’s wonderful, to have so many people around you that are close to you, including Mr. Dameron, like a family.” Her voice was slightly envious, and Ben wondered what she meant.

“Have they always been the business of escorting film crews?” she then asked amusedly. “They probably ought to repaint the ship’s name then, don’t you think?”

“Not escorting people , exactly,” he answered uneasily. He got up abruptly and nervously wiped his hands over the front of his slacks. “I―I should get going.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to―” she began to apologize again, when none of this was her fault.

“Good luck with shooting the scene tomorrow,” he cut her off, speaking rapidly and left the hallway. Artoo and Beebeeate stayed put, enjoying Miss Rey’s company too much to follow. Ben forgot all about bringing them back to the pilot house and made for the hold down below. When he arrived back in the dank, dark place, he went to “his” cage and plopped down on the bed. He cringed, ashamed at his behavior, but he didn’t want to shock her with the knowledge that The Falcon used to be a smuggler’s ship―illegally importing food, alcohol, animals and rarely, people. It would probably be better to let Chewie and Threepio say it.

Ben sighed and began punching away at the keys on the typewriter, hoping to get some work done. It would seem that Miss Rey wasn’t the only one who didn’t feel like sharing everything about themselves. For example, like how Ben wasn’t usually the kind of person to walk out on conversations, but somehow… Miss Rey made him nervous. Whether it was in a good way or bad way, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Cameras rolling! Rey, stand by!”

It was a surprisingly hot day, that next afternoon, even though it was October. Five minutes outside and Ben could already feel some perspiration lining the top of his forehead, in addition to his churning stomach and headache, which still hadn’t seen any improvement the more time he was at sea. But, without a single cloud in the sky and the sun shining brightly, beating down on everyone’s heads, at least Poe would be pleased and get the right lighting he wanted for the shoot. Ben decided to try and be positive for his friend’s sake.

Ready to film, Hux stood at the edge of a small balcony. The scene was to be shot in a secluded area of the ship, and this place was perfect for it. Ben saw Miss Rey anxiously waiting in a doorway that led to the balcony. Her hands wrung together. He could understand her restlessness and worry―it was her first time ever shooting a scene after all.

The crew and Mr. Trooper stood off to the side behind Poe, who was aiming the camera at Hux. “And…” he began, turning the little hand-crank. “Action!”

 Miss Rey ran out to the balcony and stood next to Hux, who was leaning against the railing. She had a wide grin on her face. “I think this is awfully exciting, I’ve never been on a ship before!” she exclaimed, now in character. Ben, as he watched in a different spot to get a different angle on the scene, felt a soft smile grow on his face. Miss Rey was enthusiastic, her manner confident and her words clear―she was a natural. He would have never guessed that she was anxious only a moment ago. Perhaps she hadn’t been and he’d underestimated her. Even if she’d never acted in a moving picture before, she’d been performing at the Vaudeville Revue previously, he knew that to be a fact.

She looked eagerly at Hux, waiting for his response. Her bright eyes paid rapt attention as her body leaned towards his. She was really giving it her all; Ben suddenly thought her to be incredibly endearing. It was no wonder why Poe cast her. She really was adorable.

“I’ve never been on a ship with a woman before,” Hux replied as his character Jack, acting aloof and looking from her and out to sea.

“I guess you don’t think much of women on ships, do you?” Miss Rey’s character, Ann teased.

“No, they’re a nuisance,” he said.

Her mouth fell open in surprise, but she quickly responded with a smile, “Well, I’ll try not to be.”

“You’ve been in the way already.”

The two talked back and forth. It was surprisingly natural and Miss Rey responded to his remarks with ease. Poe seemed pleased as he stood behind the camera, but Ben was quietly fuming. Hux was not following his script! Not even the most renowned actors Ben collaborated with in the theater ever disregarded his work in this way. He might have interrupted the scene himself and said something if Poe hadn’t beat him to it.

“Cut!” he called. “Perfect, moving onto the next scene! Rey, Hux, you two can relax for the next ten minutes before your next scene with Finn. That was, uh, very nice, Hux. I felt very moved.”

Ben raised his eyebrows but Poe didn’t see. He couldn’t be serious, could he? If anyone deserved praise for the shot, it was Miss Rey. The actress looked pleased to be able to relax and she took out a small mirror to check that her makeup was still okay. Hux walked past Ben and sneered.

“What do you think, Solo? The dialogue has a bit of spice now, hasn’t it? Hm, wouldn’t you say?”

“It was pure effluence,” Ben muttered.

“I was merely improving it,” Hux stated, getting defensive. “The banter needed a little―well, a lot more.”

“Try to resist the impulse. I don’t write scenes so that people can ignore them.”

“It may be one way for you in the theater world, but when it comes to moving pictures, things are different.” Hux walked off, satisfied. Ben shook his head.

“Actors,” he grumbled. “Travel the world, but all they ever see is a mirror.”

A few paces away, Miss Rey seemed to have heard him. He caught his reflection in her small hand-held mirror and she shut it quickly.

“Hm,” Ben mused as he watched her leave to go talk with Mr. Trooper.

* * * * * * * *

“That concludes our shoot for the day!” Poe announced, pleased. “Let’s give a round of applause for everyone’s hard work, huh?” The cast and crew cheered. Finn grinned at Rey, which she returned. She’d been worried the entire time that she was going to mess up constantly with the two scenes they shot, but it turned out that the anticipation was worse than reality.

She looked around to see Mr. Solo standing off by himself clapping as well, which surprised her. She peeked over a few times in between takes earlier to see what his reaction was, but his face had been completely blank. She couldn’t tell if he was satisfied or not, yet here he was, joining in the applause. Hadn’t he been annoyed with her yesterday for the second time? One minute he was making conversation with her, the next he was avoiding her. She really couldn’t understand him.

He noticed her watching him and they briefly made eye contact before she looked away and told Mr. Hux a quick congratulations on today’s work, which he returned icily. She had a heavy feeling in her chest and she worried about working with Mr. Hux for the next several weeks. He was difficult to work with, there was no doubt about that. His personality was that of the one he projected onto the character Jack: cold, demanding and speaking in short sentences. He’d even made her feel bad for not knowing who he was. Rey couldn’t help not recognizing him; she could barely afford to go out when she was in New York and when she did, she always went to the theater to watch plays. She sincerely hoped that he would not continue to add in his own lines for the duration of the picture. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep up, improvising her own dialogue all the time.

Dinner passed with jovial chatter. Rey was enjoying getting to know all of the crew and not for the first time that day, she wished she knew sign language so she could communicate more easily with Captain Chewie. Sure, he could hear her just fine and Mr. Threepio never seemed to mind translating everything he said, but she noticed that even Mr. Solo would sign and speak at the same time when conversing with the captain. And where was the playwright now, anyway? She never saw him join for any meals. Perhaps he wasn’t the social type. After all, he had walked out on their conversation all of a sudden.

As she finished her plate of pork and beans while chatting with Rose and Paige, Finn came and sat next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“You were amazing today, Miss Rey,” he told her playfully, ruffling her curls. “And cute as a bug’s ear!” She batted away his hand but couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, stop it,” she replied as she rolled her eyes. “Look who’s talking. You should have been a skipper in real life! Why in the world did you decide to go into acting?”

“You were great, Rey, really,” Rose offered with a smile. “Poe did a good job with casting you, seriously.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, feeling a little overwhelmed. In addition to all the compliments Mr. Dameron showered her with after shooting, she was not used to receiving so much praise. Wanting to take the attention off of herself, she told Paige, “I absolutely adored the dress you picked out for me to wear today―the makeup you did was also beautiful! And I’m looking forward to seeing how you all put the final product together,” she added to Rose.

Though part of her was guilty for thinking this, she felt relieved to be away after dinner and wash up for bed. She was looking forward to a hot shower after a long day. Tomorrow would be equally as busy, she knew.

Tying her old, worn bathrobe tightly around her waist, she navigated the narrow halls of The Falcon towards the restrooms, running her fingers through her wilting curls. She’d have to remember to put in her curlers before she slept, though the process was always a hassle. At the end of the hall, coming from her destination was Mr. Solo himself, wearing a loose shirt and slacks while he rubbed a towel over his still wet hair. His expression was grim, his mouth set in a flat line and his face seemed to be paler than usual. However, when he saw her, his mouth fell open and he stared.

Before either of them could say anything, the ship swayed and they stumbled towards a wall. Rey quickly righted herself so as not to fall over.

“Good legs,” he commented. Rey blinked at him. Flustered, he corrected himself. “Sea legs―um, sea legs.”

Rey laughed nervously and they walked past each other. She could feel the sleeve of her bathrobe brush against him and her face grew warm.

“Yeah…” he spoke timidly behind her as she made for the other end of the hall. “Not that you don’t have good legs… just making conversation…ugh.” She could hear the embarrassment in his voice. She knew he meant well, but couldn’t help but feel relieved when she saw her cabin door. Whatever this tense atmosphere, this energy was between them, it made her want to run.

“Miss Rey,” he tried again as she opened the door and she turned around. “About the scene today with you and Hux―”

“I know it wasn’t what you wrote,” she said quickly. So Mr. Hux’s performance was bothering Mr. Solo like it was for her, that was slightly comforting. When he cocked his head and made to speak, she blabbed on, “However, Mr. Hux felt very strongly that when a man likes a woman,” she said with a helpless shrug. “He must ignore her, and if things turn really hostile, then…”

His eyebrows rose, clearly not agreeing with that idea.

“No?” she said, huffing out a small laugh apprehensively.

“Interesting… theory.”

“I know.” Rey shook her head. If she had felt so strongly that she didn’t like Mr. Hux’s choice of words, she should have told him so earlier, right? Instead of making excuses. “I should have…”

“It wasn’t what I had intended, but―”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, then cringed. Exactly how many times was she going to keep apologizing to this man?

“You made it your own,” Mr. Solo offered.

Rey smiled, still shaking her head. “I was nervous.”

“It was funny, actually,” he told her. His brow furrowed lightly, clarifying more, “ You were funny.”

“Please, don’t say another word. Good night.” Rey’s face was on fire as she made to close the door and retreat into her room.

“Miss Rey,” his voice, though soft and gentle, reached across the end of the hall. She opened her door a little wider, heart pounding as she looked him in the eye. He wasn’t making fun of her, nor was he annoyed with her. Every word he said to her, she realized, was sincere.

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

Her breath caught when he spoke, low and quiet as he gazed at her. She almost didn’t want the moment to end, slowly closing the door until she saw no more of him. Finally alone in her cabin, Rey leaned against the door. A sigh escaped her lips and a hand came to rest over her heart which was threatening to burst from her chest as she tried to calm herself. She knew she wouldn’t be able to look at Mr. Solo the same after this…

“Ah! Shower,” she remembered, going to open her door and scolding herself. “Still need a shower.”

Chapter Text

“Aaaaand… cut!” Mr. Dameron gave Rey and Mr. Hux a thumbs up. “Great, perfect, phenomenal. Excellent work, you two.”

Rey didn’t think so. Her co-star nodded to her coldly as he always did and sauntered away. Releasing a long, drawn out breath, Rey folded her arms and leaned against the railing of The Falcon , eyes on the ground. She had just finished filming her fourth scene with Mr. Hux, and he once again provided his own dialogue of rude and misogynistic speech towards her. She wondered what his relationship with women must be like, but decided against thinking about it too much, knowing that if she did so, it would just infuriate her even more.

She was then startled by a cup that suddenly appeared under her nose. She looked up from her musings and saw that Mr. Solo was offering her water.

“Thought you might be thirsty,” he said in a raspy voice, then he cleared his throat and repeated the statement.

“Thank you.” She accepted the drink, realizing he hadn’t done the same for Mr. Hux or Finn. Feelings of giddiness for being specially treated arose in her chest but she quickly stamped them down. Mr. Solo leaned against the railing next to her. She was very aware that their arms were only inches apart and she sipped the water loudly to fill the silence, despite the wind in their ears.

Ever since their little encounter in the hallway a week ago, Rey found it hard to look at him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but looking into his eyes specifically was… difficult. They greeted each other everyday cordially and respectfully, and it didn’t take long for her to realize that she tended to look at the floor whenever she passed by him. Why was that?

“I liked your performance,” Mr. Solo told her stiffly, a breeze gently blowing through his hair.

“Thank you,” Rey said again. She then gathered her courage and turned to him, looking directly up at him. “I really like the dialogue you wrote for Ann,” she said, hoping she sounded sincere, for it was the truth. “And Jack’s as well, I like what you wrote,” she added, smiling a little. She thought she saw him return the smile, the corner of his mouth lifting before setting back into a hard line.

It was obvious that Mr. Solo was growing more and more irritated by the day―she noticed, Finn noticed, the crew noticed, yet Mr. Dameron did nother about Mr. Hux’s behavior. They still had many more weeks to go before they even reached the island, but the playwright looked like he was already reaching his limit. Really, he didn’t look well at all. Was he ill? Perhaps that was contributing to his bad mood since the start of the trip. Up close, Rey could see that he was sweating even though the weather was chilly, and his complexion was getting paler and paler with every time she saw him. She also never saw him at meals, and at first she thought he didn’t enjoy crowds, but now that she thought about it, she realized that ever since the two of them met, she had never seen him eat a single bite of food. Hopefully the cause wasn’t anything serious…

“Mr. Solo,” Rey spoke up.

“Yes, Miss Rey?” He turned to her, giving her his full attention.

“Is everythi―”

“Ben! You got a minute?” Mr. Dameron called from the other side of the deck, waving a hand. “I’ve got an idea for the second act!”

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Mr. Solo almost snapped at him.

“It’s important!”

“Duty calls,” Mr. Solo grumbled, excusing himself. Rey nodded, sipping her cup of water again. The sun was starting to set.

“Would you like some help setting your curls tonight?” Paige asked as she and Rose approached Rey after dinner. “Just to give you a little break,” she added with a smile.

“Really? Oh, I’d love that, thank you!”

Besides Finn, Rey had no other friends. She’d gotten along well with the other actors at the Revue, sure, but she wasn’t close with any of them, not like she was with Finn. However, it was a welcome surprise to find that the Tico sisters actually wanted to spend some time with her. For a moment, she felt like a little girl, or rather how she had wanted to grow up as a little girl: doing each other’s hair, giggling over all sorts of things, telling secrets. For a moment, she could pretend she had the life she always wanted, the life she never had.

“So where are you two from?” Rey asked as Paige carefully took a section of her dark brown hair to roll up into a curler.

“Our parents immigrated from Vietnam and met each other in Hawaii,” Rose replied. She sat on a rickety old chair while the other two girls were seated on the bed. “When we were old enough, they sent us here to go to school.”

“We’ve stuck together like glue ever since,” Paige joked.

“That’s nice,” Rey commented, trying not to let her envy show. “Will your parents come see the picture when it’s done?”

“If Poe pays us the two grand, sure!” Rose sarcastically. Rey didn’t see Paige shoot her sister a glare as she picked up another curler, experienced hands working quickly. “I mean, yeah, it’ll be nice for them to come to New York. I think they’d like it.”

There was that amount of money again: two grand. Rey wondered what Rose meant about Mr. Dameron. It seemed her suspicions were getting confirmed little by little, and that worried her. “Have you worked with Mr. Dameron before?” she asked.

“Almost two years now, “ Rose answered. “But this is Paige’s first project with him since, you know, he’s always made nature documentaries.”

“I’ve worked all over the place,” Paige added. “Mostly in musicals, operas, plays… I’ve even collaborated with Mr. Solo a couple of times―”

“Really?” Rey asked excitedly, turning her head to look at Paige before remembering that she needed to keep still. “That’s amazing! What do you think of his plays?”

“They’re great,” Paige praised sincerely. “They’re so raw and deep and real. I’d never seen anything like them before.”

“It’s no wonder his plays are a hit,” Rose said. “I’ve seen a couple of ‘em, they’re really something else.”

“Yes,” Rey agreed. “I was really excited when it was announced that his newest play, Isolation, was in production. I actually tried to audition for the lead role.”

“Oh, how did it go?” Paige questioned, now combing through the top of Rey’s head. She now only had two curlers left.

“I never got the chance,” Rey said, shoulders slumping. “By the time I pestered the acting agency to give me an audition, they’d already chosen someone. That’s just the way it is, I suppose. Well, anyway, I’ve been doing comedy for so long, I probably wouldn’t have fit the part.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, Rey,” Rose chided gently. “I never thought I’d land a job in this industry, having my kind of background.” She looked resentful for a moment, lost in a memory. “People look down on you, because first of all you’re a woman. Second of all, not even other Asians will give you the time of day. You’re not a real Vietnamese or American. You just come from an island where…” She stopped herself and sighed.

“And now we’ve accomplished our dreams,” Paige reassured her sister softly. “I didn’t think people would choose me to be in charge of styling and making the actors look good, and look where I am now!” She squeezed Rey’s shoulder to let her know that she was down with her hair, and she moved to sit next to her on the bed. “You’ve come this far, Rey. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Rey nodded and smiled gratefully.

“Ah!” Rose exclaimed, wanting to change the subject. “Speaking of Mr. Solo―”

Paige rolled her eyes. “We were done talking about Mr. Solo a while ago.”

“―I noticed he treats you nicer than anyone else.” Rose grinned at Rey.

“Actually, I’ve noticed that, too,” Paige confirmed, smiling. “Look at you, Rey, you’re blushing!”

“That’s not true!” Rey blurted out. “I mean, he doesn’t treat me nicer. Besides, Mr. Dameron is also nice to me.”

Rose waved a hand. “Poe is nice to everyone.”

“I’m not sure what you mean…”

“Rey, I’ve worked with Mr. Solo on two of his productions,” Paige said. “He’s respectful, has a good work ethic and is straightforward. Do you know what I mean? He always gets to the point. But he’s also blunt and can be aggravated easily. I saw him yell at an actor for not delivering a line correctly, though it was just once and he did apologize afterwards.” She shrugged. “It’s just different to see him going out of his way to be kind to someone. I’ve also noticed that he’s particularly close with anyone.”

“Yeah,” Rose tapped her chin. “Except for Poe, of course. They’re childhood friends, after all.”

“I think he’s all he’s got,” Paige added. “I’ve never heard him mention his family.”

“Oh,” Rey nodded. “Hm. I see.” She tried to pretend she was uninterested, but her cheeks were still a deep crimson.

“To be honest, we all thought something was up when you spilled porridge on him.” Rose was trying not to laugh.

“Oh no,” Rey buried her face in her hands. “That was not one of my best moments.” She looked up at the girls. “Actually, I’m not really sure what to make of it, either. For example, last week…”

She told them the summary of what happened in the hallway with Mr. Solo, and felt like she was finally relieving herself of a huge secret. Somehow, she felt she couldn’t say any of this to Finn. He was her best friend and they’d tell each other everything, but this was different. Of course she didn’t think any less of him―she could never―but it was a nice change, being able to talk to other women about this… this odd exhilaration she always felt when she was around Mr. Solo.

“And then he said,” Rey lowered her voice to imitate him. “Miss Rey, you don’t have to be nervous.”

Paige faked a swoon and she and Rose laughed. Rey joined in, happy to be able to share this moment with them.

“I never thought the silent and aloof Mr. Solo could ever be dizzy with a dame,” Rose laughed some more.

“I think I’m overanalyzing things,” Rey confessed, shrugging. “Sometimes I think he may also be aware of it, but then the realist in me says I’m just imagining it.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Paige said gently, but there was a gleam in her eye.

One morning, Rey and Finn left breakfast early to find Poe with a few questions about a particular scene. It would be the first scene they’d shoot together with just the two of them, and they wanted to get the atmosphere and interaction and just right.

“I can’t wait till we get the island,” Finn said with a sigh as they made their way up the stairs to the pilot house. “No offense to the cook, but I’m getting sick of the food.”

“I know, it’s hard to eat the same thing everyday,” Rey comforted him, patting his arm. “Only a couple more weeks left now.”

They arrived at the pilot house and were about to announce themselves when Rey stopped short and put a hand out to Finn. They hadn’t reached the doorway yet and were out of sight, so the occupants couldn’t see them. Inside, she could hear arguing.

“What’s going on?” Rey whispered.

“Sounds like Dameron and Threepio aren’t too happy.”

There was a pause and Rey guessed that the captain was inside as well.

“Chewie would like you to know that he is getting impatient, Mr. Dameron,” Mr. Threepio said. “We would like an explanation for your strange behavior since the start of this trip.”

“I’m telling you, there’s nothing to worry about!” Mr. Dameron insisted.

“Then can you care to explain the message we received this morning? Apparently the authorities are on the lookout for you.”

Rey and Finn exchanged looks. Were the police after Mr. Dameron?

“That’s nothing,” the movie producer excused himself. “The message must have not come through right. It’s Morse Code, it could’ve gotten messed up.”

Another pause. “We think that to be unlikely,” Mr. Threepio told him. “It explicitly stated that you were seen boarding The Falcon .”

“Do they know where we’re headed?” Mr. Dameron sounded apprehensive.

“There was no mention of our destination, no.”

“So they don’t know!” Mr. Dameron sounded relaxed. “We’re fine, see? Absolutely fine…”

“We still have two weeks before we get to the island,” Mr. Threepio told him. “I suggest that you come up with a solution until then.”

“I understand you want your money. Just…” Mr. Dameron sighed, “don’t respond to the message, please? I’ll take care of it. And you’ll get your two grand, you can count on that. See you guys later.” The sound of footsteps indicated that he was leaving the pilot house. Panicking, Rey dragged Finn back down the stairs and out of sight so they wouldn’t be seen, crouching underneath the steps Luckily, Mr. Dameron was headed in the opposite direction.

“Do you think he’s a wanted felon?” Finn asked when they were sure he was gone. “Are we going to get into trouble by being involved with him?”

“I don’t know,” Rey answered, then shook her head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Then why in the world would he be so invested in making a picture? If he was really on the run, he wouldn’t have hired an entire crew to come with him. There’s got to be more to it than that.”

“Who else knows, do you think? Who else is in on it? It doesn't look like Chewie or Threepio are.”

“Yes, I agree.”

“What about Solo?”

“What?” Rey asked incredulously. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, think about it, Rey,” Finn said. “They’ve been friends for years, super close, everyone knows that. And he didn’t even have the script done by the start of the trip. He’s still not done, just barely finished writing the second act. It makes sense to me. I think they’re making it up as they go along.”

Rey sat on the ground, her legs beginning to hurt from squatting, but also because she was trying to process all of this. Maybe Mr. Dameron had been acting strangely this entire trip and kept repeating “two grand” over and over again, but he seemed harmless. And the idea that Mr. Solo was involved… she wasn’t sure what to think.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay, let’s say that they are indeed plotting something. Why? Again, what would they gain from putting in all this effort to make a picture if they’re just on the run?”

“Why are you trying to argue with me on this?” Finn’s brow furrowed.

“No, I’m not trying to,” Rey protested, unsure why he was lashing out at her. “It just doesn’t make sense to me, Finn, that’s all.”

“You know what doesn’t make sense?” He stood and got out from underneath the stairs. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on and you’re just defending them all of a sudden! You’re defending him .”

“Who―Mr. Dameron?”

“No, not Dameron, Rey, Solo! You’re blindly defending Solo when you have no idea what he’s really doing on this boat!”

“I didn’t even bring him up,” Rey got up as well. “ You did. Besides,” she shook her head, laughing a little at how ridiculous their argument was. “You don’t even know him.”

“Neither do you!”

Rey’s smile faded. “Why are you saying these things, Finn?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to fight with you. It’s just… you know you’re like a sister to me, Rey, and I’ve…” He folded his arms and looked away. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I don’t like him.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “First of all, Finn, it isn’t up to you what I should do when someone likes me. Second of all, whether or not he and Mr. Dameron are both up to something, you don’t need to worry about me. Mr. Solo doesn’t like me that way. I’m sure of it.”

Finn looked uncertain, like he knew something she didn’t. “So what do you propose we do?” he asked.

“Well,” Rey thought for a moment. “Captain Chewie and Mr. Threepio have already confronted him about it. I think it’d be best if we let them take care of it. Why don’t we focus on making this the most amazing picture in all of history? Even if it is just a scam.” She grinned. “What do you say?”

Finn shook his head and smiled, finally relaxing. “Alright, peanut. I guess we’ll ask Dameron about our scene later when we film.”

She nodded firmly and they walked off arm in arm.

The next few days passed with some tension. Everyone could feel it, but weren’t sure what it was or what to do about it. Rey felt like she was in some sort of limbo, waiting for the truth to come out about what Mr. Dameron was really doing or the police arriving on ships to arrest them, waiting for something bad to happen.

At the moment, everyone was on standby for Finn’s solo scene in the pilot house. The area couldn’t be too crowded because of the limited space and lighting, so Rey had to stand some distance away to watch. Since they weren’t currently rolling, Captain Chewie and Mr. Threepio were giving Finn some pointers on how to look like an official sea captain.

Something then caught Rey’s eye and her attention was turned away from the pilot house. Mr. Solo had arrived and was approaching Mr. Dameron. He held the script in his hand and was talking to him quietly. Rey bit her lip as she watched him. Were they planning something devious right under their noses? Was Mr. Solo holding the screenplay at that moment just for show, just to make it look like he was talking about the picture with the producer? She didn’t want to believe that he and Mr. Dameron were capable of tricking everyone on the ship, for whatever reason. But the captain and first mate seemed relaxed enough, so she could be as well.

Mr. Solo ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t look so good. Rey crept closer, hoping he was alright.

“So I’m thinking for this scene with the backdrop of the island…” he struggled to tell his friend.

“Uh-huh,” Mr. Dameron responded, looking concerned.

“I think it’d be best to shoot at…” He exhaled, a tremor running through his body. “Shoot it at sunset.”

“You okay, buddy?” Mr. Dameron asked. “You’ve looked better.”

“Thanks,” Mr. Solo grumbled, then he grimaced. “I need to lie down.”

“Yeah, you should do that. Take the rest of the day off, in fact. I can take it from here.”

Mr. Solo turned to leave and only made it a few steps before collapsing to the ground.

“Ben!” Mr. Dameron yelled, kneeling by his side, then he looked up. “Rey, go get Chewie!”

Rey nodded, shocked at what just happened and sprinted to the pilot house. “Captain!” she called urgently. “Something is wrong with Mr. Solo!”

Captain Chewie, Mr. Threepio and Finn followed her out immediately and came to where Mr. Solo lay on the floor. Other crew members stood nearby, worried. Even Mr. Hux looked mildly interested, and he never came outside unless he was shooting a scene.

“What happened?” Mr. Threepio asked. Captain Chewie pulled on the unconscious man’s arms so that he was sort of sitting up against a wall and he put a hand on his forehead.

“He was looking real joed,” Mr. Dameron told him. “So he said he was going to go rest, then he fainted.”

Captain Chewie signed something and nodded to Mr. Threepio to translate.

“He’s dehydrated and fatigued, but he’ll be fine,” the first mate said. “Hm, we’ll need a place for him to rest comfortably. The floor is not the most ideal place.”

“He can stay in my cabin,” Rey volunteered. Everyone stared at her. “It’s comfortable, though it may be a little small for him.” Finn raised his eyebrows at her but she ignored him. Captain Chewie made another sign.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Threepio translated, then added, “It’s alright, Miss Rey, you don’t need to sacrifice your own quarters.”

“It’s fine, really,” she insisted. “I know I was given one of the nicer cabins. I’d like to help.” The captain smiled at her.

“I’m sure Ben will be thankful,” Mr. Threepio said. “Why don’t you help Chewie get him to your room? I will get him some blankets and water.”

Mr. Dameron reluctantly agreed to the film crew’s requests to start shooting Finn’s scene, still worried for his friend, and Rey and Captain Chewie each took one of Mr. Solo’s arms and left the upper deck together.

Once they made it through the narrow hallway leading to all of the rooms, Rey briefly left Mr. Solo’s side to open her door. Captain Chewie easily lifted the man onto the mattress, positioning his head onto the fluffy pillow and taking off his shoes.

“May I ask… what’s wrong with him?” Rey asked apprehensively. It was awful to see Mr. Solo like this. The captain smiled comfortingly at her and raised his right hand, motioning a wave, then hovered his hands over his forehead and stomach, rocking his body back and forth briefly.

“Ah…” she understood now. “He’s seasick?” He nodded. She looked over at the man on her bed, hopefully resting more easily. She then got an idea. “Captain, may I use the kitchens for a bit?”

* * * * * * * *

Ben remembered being conscious several times after he’d fainted, once while carried through the labyrinth-like halls of the ships, and the other times while lying on top of a soft bed. A small voice in the back of his head kept telling him to wake up, but he was so exhausted, his head was pounding and his eyelids felt so heavy that he just kept drifting off back to sleep. Plus, the bed was very comfortable, much better than his stiff cot down in the hold. It was a welcome change after two weeks of barely any sleep due to being sick.

Finally, his brain (which weighed like a ton) relented and he made himself open his eyes. Suddenly, the room seemed too bright. Then he realized the source of light was coming from an oil lamp and he shut his eyes again, deciding to take it one step at a time. He was vaguely aware of the pages of a book turning every minute or so.

As he opened his eyes once more and grew accustomed to his surroundings, the sound of pages turning became clearer and he got used to the light in the room. He recognized the place to be one of the nicer cabins on the ship. His head still feeling like a stone, he slowly sat up. In the corner of the little cabin, Miss Rey was curled up in an old chair, flipping through a book. She wore her well-used bathrobe and her hair served as a curtain, hiding her face as she bent over the pages. She looked up at the sound of him rustling the sheets and sat up.

“Hello,” she greeted.

“Hello,” he tried to say, but it came out slurred and he rubbed his face. Perhaps he was not all the way awake yet. Nevertheless, he started to get up and failed.

“Take it easy,” she chided him as he settled with resting against the headboard. She got up and reached for a cup on the nightstand. “Here, I made this for you. It’s still warm.”

He accepted and took a drink, then recoiled. She didn’t look offended, however. “Ginger?” he guessed.

“Yes, it’s good for seasickness.”

“Ah,” he simply replied, embarrassed that he’d been found out.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to a lot of people.”

“Not you.”

“Yes, me. But I took care of myself since the beginning of this trip, unlike you,” she teased.

He made a non-committal noise in reply and continued to sip the tea, it wasn’t so bad once one got used to it.

“It tastes better with honey, but I couldn’t find any,” Miss Rey said sheepishly. “Though I was lucky that we had ginger root.”

“No, this is great,” he assured her. “Thank you.” He really was grateful. He didn’t expect Miss Rey of all people to go out of her way to make him feel better. “What were you reading?”

“Oh, this?” Miss returned to her seat and showed him the book, titled, Tarzan and the City of Gold . “I found this in one of the drawers of my room.”

Ben nearly choked on the tea. “This is your room?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I should probably get going then,” he said, glancing out the window. It was after dark.

“Not before you finish your drink, you won’t,” she ordered, then glanced back at the book. “I was just flipping through this. Who does it belong to?”

“Chewie,” Ben answered, reluctantly settling back into the bed and he noticed his feet hung off the edge of the mattress. “He’s a fan of Edgar Rice Burroughs, also really likes his series about Mars. That one there is his newest one, I think.” He paused, looking at her. “I had no idea ginger root helps with seasickness. Do you go on ships often?”

“Only one other time.” Miss Rey put the book away and turned to him. “That remedy there is something I learned while on board a ship two years ago.”

“Where were you headed?” he asked.

“New York,” she answered casually, then raised her chin as if she could still see the liquid in his cup. “Go on, you better drink it all.”

“You left Southwold two years ago?” he asked before doing as he was told.

She looked surprised. “You remember the name of my hometown?” He nodded. He then tipped the cup upside down to show her that it was empty. She took it, set it back on the nightstand and sat beside him where his legs were stretched out on the mattress, next to his thighs. He stared at her, unsure what she was doing. She looked a little nervous.

“May I?” she asked, extending her hand. Still confused, he reached out his left hand and she gently took his wrist. “I’m going to apply some pressure on your pressure point here,” she told him before he could ask. Her thumb lightly dug into his forearm to feel in between the two tendons. Once she found the right spot, she used her thumb to press a little more firmly and made circular motions as his hand rested in her lap. Her touch was strong, but she didn’t hurt him. “It’s another trick I learned… helps with motion sickness,” she murmured, finally looking at him with her big, hazel eyes. He swallowed. She really was beautiful.

“Of course I remember the name of your hometown,” he said quietly, trying to think of something to say. “I don’t think I could forget anything about you, ever.”

Her mouth opened slightly in surprise.

“Like how you used to do comedy shows at the Revue,” he added. She raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not something you learned yourself. Mr. Dameron told you that, didn’t he?”

“No, he didn’t,” he shook his head. “I saw one of your performances.”

Her brow furrowed. “You did?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes. I think…” he thought for a moment. “It was around six months ago. I was having a bad day and was stressed with work―” He decided to leave out the part of him throwing a tantrum at the theater, angry with Snoke for choosing a terrible actress for his play. His temper was something he was not proud of. He cleared his throat. “It was late at night and I went for a walk to cool off. Then I came across The Lyric Vaudeville Revue. I’d worked there a few years ago with Poe, he probably told you, he loves telling everyone that.” She smiled and nodded. “I bought a ticket and that just happened to be one of the nights where you were performing. You dance really well, by the way. And I really liked your mustache.” That made her blush and smile more, and his heart soared. “I laughed a lot, I even came back a couple of more times when I could afford it, and it inspired my writing a lot. You really cheered me up that day, I’ll never forget it.”

“I’m glad someone liked it,” she said. She moved on to his other arm, making the same circular motions with her thumb. “Our ticket sales just kept getting worse this year.”

“I heard it closed down,” he acknowledged. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I enjoyed it while it lasted―very much, actually. That’s actually where I met Finn, at the Revue.”

“Ah,” Ben nodded. “You two are… close?”

“He’s my best friend,” Miss Rey answered brightly. “Ever since I got here, he was the only person I could rely on.” She smiled fondly at past memories.

“Well,” Ben said quietly. “I hope you can find more people you can rely on in the future.” She stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, then she looked down at his arm.

“I’ve been to your shows, too,” she said. “Whenever I got a chance, that is.”

“What did you think?”

“I think they’re wonderful,” she said earnestly. Without knowing probably, she held his arm with both of her hands. “What I most admire is the way you captured the voice of the common people. That’s why I kept coming back. I really felt that you knew what we’ve all been feeling, how we’ve been living.” She looked at him with a grin. “And I really do hope your newest play does well, Mr. Solo. I hope to see it sometime.”

Then, as if a part of Ben’s brain had been shut off this whole trip, he remembered with a jolt that he had a play back in New York that was still in production and missing its playwright. How could he have forgotten? He hoped the director didn’t report him as a missing person or even dead. He needed to get back.

“Right…” he said to Miss Rey, his heart sinking. “I hope you can, too.”

“Well, your nausea should have lessened by now,” she then let go of him and stood. “I believe that this ought to make up for me spilling food on you by now, yes?”

Ben shook his head, almost laughing. “There’s not to make up for, really, Miss Rey.”

“Then how about we officially become friends? I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn’t call me ‘Miss Rey’ from now on. It’s too formal. Just ‘Rey’ will do.”

“Very well, then you can’t call me ‘Mr. Solo’ anymore.”

“What do I call you?”

He shrugged. “What else? By my first name, ‘Ben.’” He saw her hesitate for a moment, then wondered if he’d made her uncomfortable, then she nodded and a small smile appeared.

“Alright… Ben.”

He never was particularly fond of his own first name before. His parents had named him after one of their closest, oldest friends, though he’d died long before Ben was born, so he never felt any connection or significance with his name. But hearing her say it, he didn’t mind it so much now.

“Very well, Rey.”

There was another pause between them, then Rey broke the silence.

“Will you teach me sign language?” she blurted out, almost as if afraid of rejection.

“You want to learn from me?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes, I really want to communicate with Captain Chewie―I don’t mean him any disrespect, I’d just like to learn.”

“Sure,” he nodded. “As long as you teach me how to make that ginger tea.”

Her smile returned. “It’s a deal.”

The next evening, the crew was back on schedule with shooting and it was Rey’s turn for a solo scene. It was a scene where her character Ann was heartbroken and she needed to show the right emotion in order to convince the audience. The sun was just beginning to set, casting an orange glow and it was a perfect, romantic lighting. Ben walked up to the main deck where Poe and the film crew stood behind the camera, focused on Rey. Poe was spinning the lever on his equipment, gesturing for her to step up. Ben came to stand next to Poe, meaning to give him the newest pages of the script, but he stood frozen, watching her, completely captivated. Wearing a long, sparkling gown with her shoulders bare, she went to the edge of the ship, her back to the camera and gripping the railing.

“And turn…” Poe muttered.

She slowly turned around, body facing the crew. She put a hand to her forehead as tears streamed down her face. Her brown curls were starting to grow past her chin, and she tucked a lock behind her ear.

Ben’s heart skipped a beat when she caught eyes with him. It was an accident, but neither looked away. He didn’t want to look away. It was almost like seeing her for the first time and suddenly falling for her.

Rey, however, looked away first, embarrassed that she was distracted during the scene and broke character, nodding to Poe and indicating that she wanted to try again. Poe with his hands raised in question, looked disappointed, then he noticed Ben standing next him.

“Thank you,” he said loudly, snatching away the papers in his hand. He turned back to Rey. “Let’s take it aga―would you please―” He glared at Ben, who still hadn’t moved. “We’re trying to shoot a scene here?”

Ben remembered where he was. “Right,” he mumbled. “Okay.” He glanced at Rey once more before turning back to head down to the hold and keeping working. He didn’t see her watching him walk away.

“Okay,” Poe said with a sigh. “Again, please.”

Chapter Text

Ben watched Rey, arms folded across his chest as she spoke while moving her hands slowly at the same time.

“My name…” she began, placing her right hand over her heart, and then taking her index and middle fingers on both hands and tapping them together. “Is R-E-Y.” She spelled out the letters. “I am nineteen years old. Nice to meet you.”

“Almost,” Ben said. The two of them sat across from each other on little crates up on deck. It had only been a couple of days since Ben started teaching Rey sign language, and they could only find time during breaks between shooting, but she was progressing very quickly. “Just make sure when you sign your age,” he continued, “that you bring your hand out, not down. For example…” He brought his hand to his chin, closed his fist and motioned away from himself. “Age twenty-nine.” He motioned the numbers two and nine, rotating his wrist twice.

“I’ll try again,” Rey said and this time followed his motions perfectly.

“You’re a fast learner,” he complimented and she beamed with pride.

“You’re a good teacher.”

“Chewie taught me since I was a kid,” he said with a shrug. “Then I kept learning when I went to school.”

Ben had never taught anyone anything before, but he found that he enjoyed teaching Rey. Did it have anything to do with the possibility that he might have feelings for her? Probably.

“Speaking of which,” Rey piped up. “I’m off to practice.” She got up from her seat headed towards the pilot house. Ben could see her approach Chewie and sign some other phrases she’d been practicing, such as how nice the weather was, or her favorite color, which was green.

Chewie responded by putting the back of his right hand over his left open palm, then tapped his fists together, telling her, “good job.” Rey caught Ben’s eye and grinned, to which Ben smiled shyly back, feeling a swell of pride.

Rey and Chewie continued to make small talk when a figure blocked them from Ben’s sight. Annoyed, he looked up to see Poe.

“Nice to see you too, buddy,” Poe said to his friend’s disgruntled expression. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were smiling at our Rey of Sunshine for a second.”

Ben scowled and Poe laughed, taking Rey’s seat on the little crate. “I know, Ben Solo is such a hard-boiled egg, it could never happen. But once he gets a look at a pretty face, he cracks up and goes sappy.”

“Sappy,” Ben muttered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Poe laughed again.

“Anyway, how is our concept for the second act coming along?”

“You mean your concept,” Ben corrected him. “It’ll be ready by the time we get to the island.”

“Fantastic, and what do you mean, my concept? You don’t like it?” Poe asked, slightly offended.

“It’s fine, just not what I’m used to writing.”

“It’ll spice up the romance and really capture the audience’s attention, I assure you.” Poe nudged him.

Ben’s attention was drawn away from the conversation as he watched Rey leave the pilot house. She waved at the two men before going down the stairs. He felt his chest tighten, and it was so unlike himself that it scared him. The truth was, he didn’t like Poe’s new concept at all. He felt a little jealous in fact, even though logically, he knew it was just acting and not real life. He knew he could tell fiction from reality, but…

He’d never been this invested in any actor or actress before, not the way he was with Rey. He cared deeply about his stories in the plays that he wrote, yes, critics said that that was the strength in his writing. He cared about the characters he created, their journey, their hardships that they endured, but at the end of the day, they were just that―characters. He never projected nor felt any emotional connection or attachment with the people he worked with. The most positive thing he could ever think about any specific actor was that they took their jobs seriously and didn’t infuriate him. But Rey…

From the moment she spilled food on him, he knew he was in trouble. It was ridiculous, but it was true. She was attractive, sweet, he found everything about her so charming: her dedication to acting, the way she blushed during the rare occasion she slipped up on a line, her kindness and consideration towards others (even towards him), her smile, her big, hazel eyes, the fact that she kept making him ginger tea for his seasickness. She really was everyone’s “Rey of Sunshine,” as was her new nickname on the ship. She was perfect. It wasn’t just investment anymore, it probably was never that from the beginning. It had nothing to do with her being a hard-working actress. He liked her for her. A lot. Poe was right, he had finally cracked up and gone sappy.

But he was afraid, too. He’d had relationships in the past, but they’d all ended badly, and they’d ended badly because of him, he was sure of it. There were many things about himself that he’d never liked: his big ears he never seemed to have grown into, his temper and anti-socialness, to name a few. He didn’t want Rey to see him lose his temper, to see that ugly side of him. She’d think less of him, he was sure. He was nowhere near as good enough as Rey deserved, not this perfect, gorgeous girl who came out of nowhere, but he also hated to think that they probably never would have met in New York. All of the seasickness he endured during this trip was definitely worth it.

Speaking of New York…

“Poe,” Ben said suddenly after his musings.

“Yeah?” His friend never seemed to mind whenever he drifted off into deep thought.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” Ben began. “Once we arrive on the island, I’m going to be calling for a ship to come pick me up. Hopefully there’ll be a cargo ship passing by and they’ll let me aboard.”

“What? You’re not going to stay for the rest of the shoot?” Poe asked, startled.

“I can’t, I’ve got a play waiting for me. It’ll be a miracle if the director hasn’t reported me dead already. I need to get back as soon as I can. Don’t worry, I won’t mention you or The Falcon .”

“Oh.” Poe looked crestfallen. It was rare that they got to collaborate with each other on projects nowadays. Despite the fact that his old friend had tricked him into staying on the ship, Ben felt a slight twinge of guilt. “That’s probably for the best, huh?” Poe went on. “Can’t keep the theater waiting.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, and his chest tightened uncomfortably again. Going back to New York would mean leaving Rey. It would mean not seeing her for many weeks, perhaps months, perhaps never again, but clacking away on a typewriter in the dark depths of a rickety old ship was not his professional career. He had a life to get back to.

“I’ll have the script finished before the ship arrives,” Ben assured Poe.

“I knew I could count on you,” Poe told him, his smile returning easily. “We only have a week before we get to the island, and we still have one more critical scene to shoot.” He squinted up at the sky, blocking the sun with his hand. “Hopefully the good weather holds up until then. Lord knows we need it.”

But the weather did not, in fact, hold up. It did the exact opposite. For four days straight, it rained cats and dogs, preventing any sort of filming. Poe, as expected, was not pleased, and neither was the rest of the crew. Not wanting to get soaked, those who were not running the ship were forced to stay inside, and the humidity just made the air indoors stuffy and everyone miserable.

Ben had been fine with it. Not only did he enjoy the rain, but he was left mostly alone, too. No one had yet to come down to the hold of the ship except for the occasional sailor, so he had plenty of time to work and was on a creative streak. He felt confident that he’d finish the story in no time. He left the typewriter occasionally for food or to stretch his legs, and started brewing his own ginger tea. Rey was surprised when he’d finally asked her how to make it, as they’d gotten used to the routine of her handing him a steaming cup after dinner, but she obliged.

“By the way, when can we continue our sign language lessons?” she had asked him as she set the kettle to boil and dropped slices of ginger into the water. “I noticed you seem to be pretty busy, but if you’re available, I’d like to keep learning. I’ve really enjoyed them,” she added with a smile. She looked up at him with those big eyes that he could get lost in for hours. Ben mentally scolded himself and tried to step away, but the kitchen was so small that he couldn’t stand more than a centimeter from her.

“Can’t anymore,” he answered gruffly, looking away. “I need to finish the script. You can ask Chewie to help you.”

“Oh.”

Did she sound disappointed? It couldn’t be. He was just hearing things, he figured, as he eyed the spices on the shelves in front of him.

“Why won’t you look me in the eye, Ben?”

That startled him and he immediately looked down to where she was, staring at him. She looked hurt and he began to feel his heart beat painfully, like he was having palpitations. He’d hurt her feelings, he realized. That was the last thing he’d wanted to do.

“Rey,” he began softly. “I―”

They both jumped when the kettle whistled. Rey quickly turned the heat down to keep the water at a constant boil. She kept her eye on the stove and away from him.

“Keep it boiling for ten minutes,” she muttered. “I should go.” She was about to leave but stopped abruptly. “Can you…?”

“Oh.” Ben realized that he was in the way and tried to make room so she could get through the doorway. But again, there was hardly any space and she ended up awkwardly rubbing against him as she squeezed past. Her cheek briefly touched his chest, and he hoped she couldn’t feel how hard his heart was pounding.

As he watched her go, he dared to hope that she was disappointed about not learning sign language anymore because she liked spending time with him, but he quickly squashed those feelings down. She didn’t like him like that, there was no way. It didn’t matter anymore. He was determined to go home.

So he avoided her as much as possible after that, counting down the days until they got to the island and he could contact another ship.

* * * * * * * *

When it finally did stop raining, it was already sunset and Poe would have to wait until the next day to shoot the scene. The cast and crew were relieved to take a breath of fresh air, spilling out on deck and doing their best to ignore the chilly wind following the storm.

“Finally,” Rey said with a sigh of relief, resting her elbows on the railing of the ship and cupping her face in her hands. “I never thought I’d see the sun again!” She inhaled the crisp, salty air that she didn’t think she’d miss.

“Me, too,” Finn said as he stood next to her, mimicking her stance.

“Ah Ben, it’s good to see you walking about!” Mr. Threepio’s voice rang from across the deck. Rey and Finn turned their heads to see that Ben had indeed emerged from the dark depths of the ship. She stared daggers at him as he talked with the first mate, but he didn’t look her way. Frustrated, she sighed again and turned back to the sea.

“Everything okay?” Finn asked. “You seem pretty down lately.”

Rey immediately stood upright. She hadn’t meant for her bad mood to slip through. Had everyone noticed? She looked at him and grinned. “Just tired, is all.” That was obviously a lie. She was annoyed that Ben was suddenly ignoring her. It was like they were back to square one, and she hated it. It could be that he was now treating her like everyone else, tersely acknowledging a greeting or any small talk, but for some reason, she felt that he was specifically ignoring her. What did she do wrong?

“Hey, I have an idea,” Finn said suddenly, clapping his hands together.

“Huh?” Rey responded, breaking out of her reverie.

“The mood on this ship is so dreary. I’ll be right back.” He sped off and Rey let out a long, dramatic sigh and stared at the waves beneath her.

Moments later, she heard exclaims of excitement from behind her and she turned around. Finn was grinning wide, carrying out a large phonograph in his arms.

“Woah, where’d you get that?” Poe wondered.

“In storage,” Finn answered proudly. “S’okay if I use it, Threepio?”

“Why, of course!” Mr. Threepio answered, and Captain Chewie beamed. “I’d forgotten that old thing existed.”

“Well, I’ve got the perfect song to start off with.” Finn set it down on one of the two chairs on deck and pulled out his bag of records, revealing a shiny, black disc. Then he set it gently on the phonograph.

Rey grinned when she recognized the song, “Skirts” by Billy Cotton and His Band. Everyone else stood around, a little unsure of what to do, but Rey was already reaching for Finn as he came over to her, asking her to dance with him. He pulled her over the center of the deck and they quickly got into position, Rey extending her right arm all the way out to clasp his hand as her left hand rested on his shoulder and he held her gently but securely with his hand on top of her shoulder blades. They danced to the quick tempo of the music, performing a routine they’d done a hundred times at the Revue that it was all muscle memory. They spun around as everyone gathered around in a circle, clapping and cheering. Out of the corner of her eye, Rey noticed that even Ben was watching, albeit in the far background.

She and Finn clasped each other’s hands and spun once more, then stood side by side, tapping the hardwood floor of the ship with their feet, kicking out their legs and swinging their hips. Finn did a cartwheel and pointed to her, letting her dance solo. She performed her own familiar routine, imagining for a moment that she was back on stage at the Revue. She jumped onto the empty chair next to the phonograph and stepped off like she was going to fall, knowing that Finn would catch her like he always did. He twirled around so her dress flowed with the wind, set her down and took the floor. Rey laughed and clapped along with everyone. She always loved seeing Finn dance on stage; he was a natural. He didn’t have a cane with him like he usually did, but he made it work.

Their small audience applauded once they finished the dance and Rey and Finn bowed deeply. They grinned at each other, remembering. The Lyric Vaudeville Revue had been a tough job and they were always waiting for money that was never guaranteed, but there were still good memories: the other actors and dancers she’d gotten to know over those two years, the beautiful sets, the music… Somehow, in that moment when Rey remembered, the good memories outweighed the bad. It also felt so long ago.

Finn, meanwhile, had put on another song, “Stormy Weather” by Ethel Waters. It was a record that’d been released earlier that year, a number one hit. The record was a little worn since Rey and Finn had listened to it so much. Then Finn walked over to Rose, holding out his hand.

“May I?” he asked politely, bowing a little. Rose instantly went red and Paige encouraged her, pushing her shoulder gently. She nodded and a smile grew on her face as he led her to the center of the deck, dancing slowly to the soft music. Then Rey plucked up the courage and marched right up to one man, holding out her hand to him, surprising everyone.

“Dance with me, Ben?”

He stared at her, eyes wide and face red. But he said nothing. A couple of seconds passed and Rey was starting to feel embarrassed, thinking he’d say no and walk away.

“Go on, Ben!” Mr. Dameron yelled, and a couple of others joined in, telling him to accept Rey’s hand. Chewie prodded him forward and he stumbled towards her.

“Only if you want to,” she assured him, realizing now that he was probably feeling pressured.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “I want to,” he said quietly and took her hand. Rey smiled triumphantly and led him to the open space. His large hand completely enveloped hers as they walked. Poe whistled and Ben blushed even harder. He still held Rey’s hand, standing in front of her and unsure what to do next.

“You can be closer,” she teased, and he stepped forward, making her breath catch. They’d been uncomfortably close to each other in the kitchen before, but now it was different. His presence felt warm and oddly inviting, even though he still looked embarrassed. She noticed now more than ever how tall she was.

Taking the initiative, Ben stepped even closer and placed his hand on her back, his hand spanning nearly the entirety of her shoulders. Her hand rested on his shoulder and it felt warm there, too. He extended their arms, mimicking her and Finn’s pose earlier. Rey just shook her head and smiled, bringing their arms back so that their joined hands were closer to their bodies.

“I don’t dance much,” Ben whispered. “Actually, I don’t dance at all.”

“You need a teacher,” she told him. “I can show you.” He nodded and she took the lead. Rey started to notice that the rest of the crew, those who were brave enough, also began pairing up and dancing to Ethel Waters’ smooth voice. Ben and Rey rocked gently back and forth together to the music, not stepping into a particular pattern but here and there. She could tell he didn’t want to step on her feet as he stared down at their shoes. Eventually he felt comfortable enough, and he raised his head and their eyes met. Rey racked her brain, trying to think of what to say, but he beat her to it.

“How am I doing?” he asked.

“Really well, for someone who said they can’t dance,” she said. “Are you sure you were telling the truth?”

“Honestly, I really don’t. But somehow with you…” he cleared his throat, hesitating. “It feels…”

“Natural?” she suggested.

“It feels natural,” he agreed.

The word didn’t quite suit what she was feeling, but she supposed “natural” would do for now. She smiled for a moment, but it faded.

“What’s wrong?” He looked at her with concern.

“Is everything alright, Ben?” She swallowed, hoping she wasn’t overstepping any boundaries.

“Why do you ask?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. It really did feel like he was avoiding her, but she didn’t want to be a fool and say anything, in case she was wrong. He seemed to sense her uneasiness.

“I’m fine, Rey. Really,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

“We are friends, aren’t we?”

His brow furrowed, and his eyes flickered away briefly. With some hesitation, he answered, “Yes.”

She nodded and they were silent for a while, listening to the music as the tempo briefly sped up. Rey backed away slightly and he took the hint, spinning her around and bringing her closer to him. Her nose was right in front of his chest. He smelled like soap.

“Love, love, love, love

This misery will be the end of me”

She inhaled his scent, hoping he didn’t notice, and for an instant, it felt like it was just the two of them there. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment. They were friends… but maybe, just maybe, she would like to be more than that.

“Skipper’s nice to me,” Ann said to Jack as the two stood out on deck. Poe stood off to the side, camera aimed at the actors’ faces. “He says he likes me better than anyone on board.”

“If I was Skipper, you wouldn’t be on board,” Jack said. Rey’s nostrils flared. Hux was once again, not following his lines.

“Well, isn’t that a nice thing to say!”

“Face it, this is no place for a girl.”

Rey had had enough. If Hux was going to make up his own lines, so was she. She crossed her arms and stepped away from him.

“I wish you wouldn’t keep harping on that,” she said with narrowed eyes. “It’s extremely rude.” Hux gawked at her for a moment.

Rey sighed dramatically. “And I thought everything was going so well.” She walked away from the view of the camera, Hux still staring after her in shock at being talked back to.

“Cut!” Poe stepped away from the camera and eyed the two actors, rubbing a hand behind his neck. “Okay, now neither of you are following the script.”

“He did it first,” Rey muttered.

“I’m a professional,” Hux told her, clearly offended and he put a hand on his chest. “I have every right to change my lines if I want to. And whose fault is it really, the writer’s poor choice of dialogue or your inability to keep up with me?”

“You…!” Rey stomped towards him and he backed up against the railing, all snobbiness erased from his face as he cowered.

“Rey, hold it!” Poe put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, you two are the main characters of this picture. It’s a romance! How can we tell a touching romance story when you guys can’t even get along?” He threw his hands up. “You two have the least amount of chemistry I’ve ever seen!”

Rey’s head hung in shame. “Sorry, Mr. Dameron.”

“I am as well…” Hux mumbled, which surprised her and the movie producer.

“Well, we’ll work on it,” Poe said at last, trying to comfort them. “Let’s take a break. That take wasn’t all that bad, really. We might even keep it. Rose will give you the new pages.”

“That was…” Rose began as Rey approached her.

“Unprofessional,” Rey finished for her.

“No, I was gonna say that was powerful!” Rose pumped her fist, waving the script in the air. “Our Rey of Sunshine’s potential is coming out! Paige and I loved it.” She held out the pages with a smile.

“Thanks,” Rey said quietly. Her outburst at Hux just now, “powerful” is not the way she’d put it. She felt regretful more than anything. She took a deep breath and accepted the pages with a smile. It’d be okay, she’d work even harder from now on. She’d sell this romance with Hux if it killed her. She flipped through the papers in her hands, getting a general idea of what the scene would be. It was one Poe had been anticipating for a while now, a suspenseful and emotional moment in the second act. She was curious to see what it was…

And her jaw dropped.

“What is it?” Rose asked. She must not have read it yet herself. She stepped beside Rey and read over her shoulder. “Oh, so that’s what Poe’s been so excited about.”

Rey clutched the pages until her knuckles went white. “Where…” she said as calmly as she could. “…can I find Ben?”

Rey stomped down the flights of stairs to the hold and in front of Ben’s cage/room, hands on her hips and the script in one fist. He was still keeping his distance from her, but at this point she didn’t care. Ben was slouching in his cot, typing away on the typewriter. The sight made her even more furious. When he saw her, he immediately sat up and smoothed back a lock of hair that hung in front of his face.

“Rey?” he sounded a little flustered. “How can I―?”

“Who gave you the right?” she bit out, enraged. “If my memory serves me well, Mr. Dameron never mentioned that there were any kissing scenes in the picture. He never said it, not once. Am I incorrect?”

“No,” he answered, standing up. “You’re not incorrect.”

“Then why am I finding―on page 57―” She flipped through the script with wrath in her eyes. She then walked up to the bars of the cage and held it out for him to see. “That the characters Jack and Ann share a kiss here? Right here .”

Ben walked to the edge of the cage, glanced at it and nodded, looking a little guilty. “I know, Rey. I wrote it myself.”

“And I’m asking you, who gave you the right?” Her heart was pounding, pumping anger into her veins. “I understand that the script is still in progress and you are not only under a tight schedule, but you’ve also got one of the hardest jobs in the production of this picture. However! It doesn’t mean you can insert whatever you like into a story!” She almost threw down the script as she began to pace the limited area. “There needs to be more meaningful interaction between them! So far, all Jack has done is insult Ann! If anything, she gets along with the skipper far better than with this pompous, sexist ol’ crumb! Mr. Hux’s improvisation will only tell the audience that he doesn't even want her aboard! And suddenly they kiss?! After how rude he’s been to her? How is that romantic? How is that a love story? And why on Earth are those scenes we filmed together being kept in the picture? Why does Mr. Dameron not put his foot down? Why do you not put your foot down, it’s your script! Can you explain it to me, because I don’t understand it!” Out of breath and panting, she finally took in her surroundings.

The cargo hold of The Falcon was dimly lit with very little sunshine and the majority of any light came from Ben’s lantern. His bed was unmade and his breakfast unfinished. There was a growing pile of crumpled paper in the corner as well as on the bed. Clearly, he was frustrated about something and was unsatisfied with whatever scene he was writing.

As for Ben himself… Rey gulped. His thick, black hair was messy from running his hands through it so many times. His dress shirt was mostly unbuttoned, revealing an undershirt which was slightly damp from perspiration. Between her, the cage, and him, they were less than a foot apart. She could smell him, sweat and another scent that was unmistakably him, the same hint of soap she noticed when they’d danced together. He’d been so close to her then. Her cheeks began to feel warm when she remembered, when she decided she liked how he smelled.

Just as much as she looked over him in that moment of silence after her rant, he seemed to have been watching her as well. He exhaled through his nose as he looked down at her, pursing his lips and swallowing. His chest rose and fell at an even but quick pace, as if he’d been running for miles. If it wasn’t for the poor lighting down in the hold, Rey could have also sworn his pupils were dilated as well. And what did she look like to him? The barrier, the few bars of metal that separated them, were noticeable more than ever before.

Finally, Ben broke the silence. “I didn’t expect―” He paused and swallowed again. And did he just glance down at her mouth, or was that her imagination? “―to see such passion come from you like that. Are you angry with me, Rey?”

Rey looked up at him, heart racing. She felt the screenplay in her hands and came back to reality, remembering the reason she came down in the first place. She glanced around for a place to sit before settling for a wooden crate and exhaled slowly.

“No,” she admitted. “I’m not really angry with you. Not you, anyway.”

“I think I know who it might be.” Ben took a seat on his bed, watching her carefully. She laughed humorlessly.

“I know it’s not your fault,” she began, trying to apologize in her own way. “I just don’t understand what Mr. Dameron is trying to do.”

“He wanted to spice up the romance,” Ben explained, but she could tell he wasn’t too happy about it, either. “After all, romance is what makes money in the industry. Audiences like that sort of thing.”

“Not all audiences,” Rey defended. “I’ve noticed you’ve never put in those types of scenes in any of your plays.”

She saw a ghost of a smile on his face. “But it doesn't mean those types of scenes are bad,” he said.

“I know. And it’s not that I regret coming on this project. I’ve enjoyed the experience, really. I’ve met incredible people and I’ve learned a lot. However, it would have been helpful if Mr. Dameron told me what his plans were ahead of time.”

“I don’t disagree with you,” Ben said as he leaned forward. His forearms rested on his knees and his hands were clasped together. “Do you mind if I ask why you don’t like it? It’s not uncommon in pictures to have love scenes.”

Rey’s hands rested in her lap. She tore away from his gaze. “No, it’s nothing. I just needed to let off some steam. I can handle it, it’s fine.” She shrugged.

“Rey,” Ben insisted. He got up, ducked under the bars and sat on a crate beside her, even though it was too small for him. “It’s not nothing. If it’s something that’s bothering you, no one should make you ‘handle it.’ Poe does respect you, you know. As do I.” He looked intently at her. “This is between an actress and a writer. Tell me. Don’t be afraid.”

“Alright,” Rey agreed after some hesitation. She took a deep breath and looked at him straight in the eye. “Well, the truth is… I haven’t done that before.” Despite her embarrassment, she kept her head high. Ben nodded.

“That’s understandable. Sharing an intimate moment with someone, even when they’re a fellow actor, is intimidating. Hux may even feel the same way. And since this is your first picture, it’s normal to be anxious about it. But Rey,” he scooted forward, his tone quiet and gentle. “I don’t think you realize how talented you are―and you’re professional. You have nothing to worry about.”

As eternally grateful Rey was to him for saying those words, her acting out a private moment with an actor was only a small part of the reason why she was frustrated and nervous about this new scene. She shook her head. She was going to have to say it out loud, wasn’t she?

“Thank you, Ben,” she said softly. “But it’s not just that.”

“Is it something else?” he questioned. “Are you and Hux not getting along? I can relate to that.”

“No, no.” Damn it, she was getting red again. “I’ve just never… you know…”

“You’ve never what?” His face was growing more and more concerned with each passing second.

“I’ve never―” she forced herself to say it. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” She shut her eyes. She didn’t want to see his look of pity. It was true, she’d never had a first kiss. Ever since she was a child raised in the orphanage, she was more concerned with figuring out who she was and finding her parents (sadly, to no avail). Then when she came to New York to pursue acting, she was constantly worrying about how to survive the night, how she’d get her next meal―romance had always been the furthest thing from her mind. And now that she was going to be filming a kiss scene with someone she not only didn’t know very well, but very much disliked, and act like she was in love with him. She was extremely worried that she’d mess it up. Right now, having Ben feel sorry for her was the last thing she wanted. So she turned away from him, willing herself not to imagine what kind of pitying expression he’d have on his face.

However, she didn’t hear any sympathetic remarks or empty compliments. Instead she began to hear… laughter? She turned back around to see him chuckling quietly to himself, and she wanted to get angry, but then she saw how truly gleeful he looked. He had a wide grin on his face, revealing slightly crooked teeth that Rey found very cute, his eyes crinkled up and showed creases at the corners and he looked younger. His laugh was unexpectedly cute as well, so heartbreakingly endearing that Rey found herself grinning as well.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, trying and failing to sound offended.

“I’m sorry for laughing, I’m sorry,” he repeated as he raised a fist to cover his mouth, still grinning. “I was really worried there for a second, Rey.”

“What? Why?”

“I was afraid something awful had happened to you to make you feel like you couldn’t shoot this scene.”

Rey folded her arms. “Well, for someone who is so concerned for me, you sure are giggling a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m just so relieved.” He smiled at her, soft and gentle.

“I mean, I suppose it is a little ridiculous.”

“No.” He shook his head, sincere. “It’s not.”

Rey felt at ease now. “Then I was thinking I could fake it instead…? I’m just not confident I can deliver the scene properly.”

There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place when he responded with, “I think you’re underestimating yourself, Rey. I think you could do anything if you set your mind to it.”

She felt warm inside, touched by his belief in her, but she still wasn’t sure of herself. She shook her head and he understood, not wanting to push her.

“I’ll talk to Poe. Don’t worry.”

She nodded, but then suddenly felt regretful at her suggestion. Even if this was her first (and hopefully not last) moving picture, she didn’t want to be in the habit of playing it safe. She wanted to take this opportunity given to her and push past her own limits, get out of her comfort zone. Then she had an idea.

“Or perhaps… I ought to practice,” she said.

“Practice?” Ben repeated. His tone abruptly turned sharp.

“Yes. Just like I practice my lines―it makes sense.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a nod, but his good mood had now completely vanished for some reason. “With Hux? Or Trooper, since he is your friend?”

“Actually,” Rey said slowly, while her heart beat quickly. “Since you wrote the scene, you’d know how it should go.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“Maybe… you could show me?”

Ben’s mouth fell open as he stared at her.

“What?” he choked out.