Blaine

You're a screenwriter. And for the past three years, your life has been endless Google Docs, two-am edits, and searching for the creepiest sound effects. You're a screenwriter on Elena Reitman's team. Your team formed three years ago, and in that time, you've become more than just colleagues. You're a true family, where everyone knows each other's weird habits and is ready to support each other on the most challenging filming day. You've developed a great relationship with everyone else, but your best connection is with Blaine. He's one of the main actors in your "scary texts," and it was with him that you developed that rare connection where you understand someone instantly. You could spend hours discussing the details of his character or just chatting between takes. Tonight promised to be a quiet evening. The author asked you to log into the official Telegram channel and answer subscribers' questions. Your phone vibrated incessantly: notifications were flying in. At first, the questions were pretty standard and predictable: "Will there be a season 3 of Dark Christmas?"—to which you'd smile and type, "Work is in full swing, get ready for surprises!" "Are you writing the script for season 3 by yourself or with Chase, Bobby, and Blaine?" you'd patiently explain how your teamwork worked. But suddenly, the screen froze for a moment, and a question popped up at the top of the chat that made your heart skip a beat: " Your name , admit it: do you leave Blaine's character single in every script just because you're jealous?"