[2 days ter]

  The tension that had hung in the air for months was gone. In its pce, there was music, ughter, and the steady clink of gsses.

  Alex had done what he always did when a project crossed the finish line... It's party time.

  Long tables lined the edges of the set, dressed in bck and deep red. Catering stations stretched almost the entire length of the wall. There was Indian food with trays of butter chicken, tandoori ptters, mb biryani, and fresh naan. An Italian corner served handmade pasta and wood-fired pizza. Sushi chefs worked behind a chilled counter stacked with sashimi and specialty rolls. There were American grills with sliders and ribs, a Mediterranean spread with mezze and shawarma, and a dessert isnd that looked like it belonged in a luxury hotel.

  Champagne towers stood near the entrance. Bottles of Dom Pérignon and Cristal rested in silver buckets filled with ice. On a separate bar, expensive whiskey and scotch were lined up in careful rows, including Macaln 25 and limited edition Glenfiddich. Wine flowed freely. Nobody was counting gsses tonight. As for Andrew and Emma, non-alcoholic drinks.

  Music pulsed through the speakers, upbeat but not overwhelming. Crew members who had been running cables and adjusting lights for months were finally able to rex and enjoy.

  Andrew Garfield was near the center of the room, in a blue suit. He was talking to Emma Stone as they ughed over a story from the early stunt rehearsals.

  "I swear I thought I broke my ankle that day," Andrew said, holding up his gss. "And Alex just stared at me and said, 'Can you walk? Then we shoot.'"

  Emma ughed. "He did not."

  Andrew grinned. "Okay, fine. He said it politely. But the message was the same."

  Alex approached them with a gss of whiskey in hand.

  "You're welcome for not breaking your ankle," he replied calmly. "And Emma, keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't go for anything alcoholic."

  "Yeah, I can do that," Emma said with a little chuckle, seeing Andrew groan.

  Across the room, Alfred Molina and Willem Dafoe were deep in conversation about the psychology of vilins. Diane Lane and Jeff Daniels stood nearby, smiling as they listened.

  "I still think Otto had a tragic dignity," Alfred said thoughtfully.

  Willem's eyes gleamed with quiet intensity. "Norman does not believe he is wrong. That's what makes him dangerous."

  Near the bar, J.K. Simmons was holding court. He reenacted one of his louder newsroom scenes while Joseph Gordon-Levitt pretended to cower in front of him.

  "I want pictures of Spider-Man!" J.K. barked, loud enough to draw cheers.

  Samuel L. Jackson lifted his drink from a few steps away. "You always yelling at somebody, huh?"

  J.K. turned toward him. "It's therapeutic."

  Robert Downey Jr. stood beside Samuel, both of them dressed in bck suits. Megan Fox and Ange White were talking with Jennifer Lopez near the champagne tower, their presence drawing more than a few discreet gnces from guests trying not to stare. Megan was wearing a golden dress, and Ange was wearing a white gown. Jennifer was in her emerald party dress.

  Jennifer lifted her phone. "C'mon, girls," she said to Megan and Ange. "We need a proper one."

  They leaned in together, perfect angles, soft lighting catching the shimmer of their dresses. The photo went up within minutes.

  Megan took a few selfies and posted them on her social media: Wrapped Spider-Man tonight with this crazy talented crew. Thanks for letting me be a part of something so grand. Big things coming.

  Ange posted: Wrap-up party is on. Thanks, Alex, for this big opportunity.

  The comments exploded almost instantly.

  RDJ dragged Alex into a group selfie that included Emma, Joseph, Ange, Megan, and a slightly amused Diane.

  The photo hit Instagram seconds ter.

  RDJ: That's a wrap. Wait till you see what we made.

  Within minutes, it was trending.

  Seann William Scott was telling a story that involved a stunt pad mishap and an accidental backflip into a prop table. Ed, Dyn and Ange listened while ughing harder than the story probably deserved.

  Rachel stood near the edge of the main floor, observing everything like she always did. She wore a silver gown.

  Alex walked back toward her.

  "You're not drinking," he said.

  "I am," she replied, lifting a gss of red wine slightly. "Just slower than everyone else."

  He looked around the room. Cast and crew are mixing freely. Phones fshing, champagne refilling... Months of stress dissolving into something warm and satisfied.

  Music grew louder. Someone pulled Andrew into an improvised dance circle. Emma followed, and Megan ughed as Jennifer dragged her into the rhythm. Even Alfred and Willem cpped along in good humor.

  "You pulled it off," she said quietly.

  "We pulled it off," he corrected.

  She studied him for a moment. "You already thinking about opening weekend numbers?"

  He smirked faintly. "Nah, not tonight." He took a deep breath. "Tonight, I just want to drink and enjoy." He extended his hand toward her.

  Rachel took his hand and both of them walked toward the dance floor.

  ...

  [9 p.m.]

  The music had softened. The champagne tower was half gone. Dessert ptes sat abandoned on random tables. The energy in the room had eased into the warm, satisfied exhaustion that follows a long victory.

  Alex stepped onto the small ptform near the DJ booth and tapped a fork lightly against his gss.

  "Alright, listen up before you all disappear," he called.

  The chatter lowered gradually.

  He looked around at the faces in front of him. Actors, camera operators, makeup artists, the stunt team, interns and the junior actors.

  "I'll keep this short," he said. "You all know what this took. You know the hours, the pressure, and the hard work."

  A few people ughed knowingly.

  "You still showed up every single day. You gave everything. So tonight, before you head out, props are open."

  A ripple of confusion passed through the crowd.

  "Take whatever you want from the set," Alex continued. "As long as it fits in your car and isn't needed for archives, it's yours."

  That got an immediate reaction.

  "Are you serious?" Andrew shouted from the back.

  "Yes," Alex replied. "Just avoid trying to walk out with the Oscorp tower."

  Laughter rolled across the floor.

  And then it began.

  People moved fast.

  The prop department tried to keep some order, though even they were smiling. A grip walked away proudly with a fake Oscorp badge. One of the interns lifted a Daily Bugle mug like a trophy. A stunt double carefully packed a web-shooter replica, holding it as if it were made of gss.

  Andrew stopped at the rack where a backup Spider-Man mask rested inside a clear case. He gnced at Alex.

  "You're really okay with this?" Andrew asked.

  Alex nodded once.

  Andrew lifted the mask slowly, almost respectfully. "This is going straight into a gss frame."

  Emma gathered a stack of fake newspapers with Peter Parker's byline printed across the front page. She held one up and ughed.

  "I'm framing this. Proof that I dated a freence photographer with terrible pay."

  Alfred selected one of Otto's mechanical tentacle fragments. It was lightweight foam, yet he held it as though it carried real weight. Willem picked up one of the Goblin pumpkin bombs and turned it over in his hands with a smile.

  Near the bar, J.K. Simmons walked off with a namepte that read J. Jonah Jameson. He tucked it under his arm as if it already belonged to him. Samuel L. Jackson picked up a SHIELD folder prop and flipped through the fake cssified pages, shaking his head.

  "I'm keeping this for research," he said.

  Robert Downey Jr. took the tablet from the mid-credit scene and lifted it toward Alex with a grin.

  Megan carefully chose one of the Bck Cat grappling hooks. Ange took a framed Oscorp blueprint. Jennifer ughed while trying to fit a small Stark Industries dispy piece into her assistant's oversized tote bag.

  Everyone took something from the set.

  And then after almost an hour, they said their goodbyes and left.

  ...

  [3 days ter]

  [New Zeand] [Hobbiton set area] [10 PM]

  The night air carried that crisp, clean bite that only came after a long day of shooting under bright lights.

  Evangeline finally wrapped the st reshoot for The Hobbit.

  The set lights had powered down one by one, leaving only utility mps and distant generator hums behind. She had changed out of her costume, wiped off most of the makeup, and pulled on a long coat over simple bck jeans and boots. Her hair was still slightly styled from the shoot, though the wind had already begun undoing the effort.

  She walked the gravel path toward the hotel. Her body ached in that familiar way after stunt wire work and multiple takes. All she wanted was a hot shower, room service, and twelve straight hours of sleep.

  Then she saw him.

  Alex stood under the soft glow of the hotel's entrance nterns, hands in the pockets of his dark coat, watching the path. The moment their eyes locked, everything else vanished. The exhaustion, the cold, the quiet hum of distant crew voices packing up gear... gone.

  She broke into a run.

  He did the same.

  They collided halfway, momentum carrying them into each other. Alex caught her around the waist and lifted her straight off the ground in one smooth motion. Her legs instinctively locked around his hips as if she was afraid he might vanish if she let go. She buried her hands in his hair and kissed him hard, all teeth and tongue. He also kissed her back with equal aggression, sucking on her tongue and lips.

  When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, she whispered against his mouth, "I missed you so much."

  "I missed you more," he said, voice rough from travel and from the way his heart was hammering against hers. "Couldn't wait another day."

  She ughed again, softer this time, and kissed the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, then just held on while he carried her the rest of the way to the entrance. The night porter gave them a polite nod and pretended not to notice the way her ankles were still locked behind his back.

  Inside the lobby, the warmth hit like a bnket. Alex set her down gently but kept both hands on her hips, like letting go wasn't an option yet. She looked up at him, really looked, taking in the faint shadows under his eyes and the way his hair was a little messier than usual from the long flight.

  "When did you nd?" she asked.

  "Two hours ago," he answered. "Went straight from the airport to here."

  Her grip around him tightened again.

  "You didn't even rest."

  "I can rest ter."

  She kissed him again, slower this time.

  The hotel doors opened behind them as a couple of crew members stepped out, ughing about something unreted. They froze for half a second when they recognized him, then quickly pretended not to stare too hard.

  Evangeline pulled back a little but kept one hand hooked into his coat.

  "You could've called," she said.

  "I wanted to see your face when you saw me," he replied honestly.

  She exhaled slowly and looked at him like he had just handed her something rare.

  "You got it," she admitted.

  He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her cheek.

  "How were the reshoots?" he asked.

  "Long," she answered. "Cold. Worth it though. We fixed a couple of emotional beats that were bothering me."

  He nodded with quiet approval.

  "Good."

  She looked at him more closely.

  "How's Spider-Man?" she asked.

  "Locked..." he said. "...and loaded."

  He took her hand fully now, intertwining their fingers.

  "Come on," he said. "Tell me everything on the way up."

  ---[MORE POWERSTONES??????]---

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