Feeling Zoë's eye-roll, Landon unconsciously quickened his steps toward the make-up area; Elisha adjusted her pace and walked in beside him.
(TN: No idea why the Zoe changed but it'll change back next chapter)
She cradled the coffee he'd given her, sipping slowly, asking nothing more about last night, simply following in quiet.
Only once they were inside the prep room did the air around Elisha Cuthbert shift.
She tucked away every trace of girlish softness, offering the approaching assistant director a smile and a nod.
When Zoë began applying Landon's make-up, Elisha didn't hover. Instead she found a seat, pulled the 24 hours script from her bag, and started reading, pen poised for occasional notes.
Landon watched her through the mirror.
At that moment Elisha looked intent, serene; the line of her profile seemed almost studious under the make-up lights.
It reminded Landon of a fact he'd been ignoring: Elisha Cuthbert, the Canadian girl who had just turned eighteen, was already a veteran compared with a "newcomer" like him.
She had started as a child model at seven; at fourteen she became a correspondent for Canada's hit show Popular Science: The Escape Artist, earning an invitation to the White House from then-First Lady Hillary Clinton.
Before heading for Hollywood she had shot five films and three TV dramas back home—including Nico the Unicorn and Mail to the Chief—and finished high school without a hitch.
In 2000, after wrapping her last Canadian project Lucky Girl, she arrived in Los Angeles full of confidence.
She gave herself six weeks: if no job materialised, she would fly back.
Her very first U.S. audition was for the soon-to-be-global hit Spider-Man; though the part ultimately went to Kirsten Dunst, reaching that shortlist spoke volumes.
And on the final day of her self-imposed deadline, as she was packing to leave, the call came from 24 hours.
Kim Bauer wasn't the lead, but in the eagerly anticipated new series the role was pivotal.
Those experiences had made her mature; that was why, when Mia was still on set, the younger Elisha had handled things more calmly than Mia.
She knew how to deal with older, more powerful colleagues, how to walk the fine line.
Yet the moment she met Landon—and after Mia's push and her own half-hearted resistance broke—Elisha reverted to the eighteen-year-old girl she was.
She clung, grew jealous, showed unguarded need, fretted over an unanswered text, and melted at a casually handed cup of coffee.
Landon had to admit he enjoyed it.
He enjoyed being the centre of a bright, vibrant girl's universe.
Elisha wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, but her sunny smile, clear eyes and open nature had their own pull.
More importantly, she had mastered a rhythm.
She could cling without shame, feeding a man's vanity and protective instincts exactly when needed;
yet when space or work demanded focus, she would step back smartly, never a burden.
And even after Landon told her he had a girlfriend, she still flew toward him like a moth to flame, resolved to seize the day rather than forever.
As for that night in the bar, Landon kept telling himself he'd been "set up".
See—Mia made the first move, Elisha played along, both pretended to be drunk.
It was a tender trap laid by two young women, and he, a red-blooded guy left alone while Tracy and Rachel were in New York, had simply stumbled in.
But was that really true?
The question made Landon's conscience squirm.
Had he truly seen nothing?
A top-tier Stunt Actor who had fought his way up for more than a decade, who had seen every trick and every type;
a reborn man whose mental age far outstripped his body—could he fail to spot two girls faking drunk?
Had he really been so easily fooled by two rookies?
Veterans like Kiefer Sutherland and Sarah Clarke had cast knowing, faintly cautioning looks as they left.
They had seen it—was Landon blind?
In the end, perhaps the "set-up" had been a tacit invitation from both sides.
Mia was leaving and craved a conquest, a keepsake;
Elisha longed to draw close but needed the excuse of "being led" to ease her own conscience.
And Landon himself?
Tracy and Rachel were far away in New York; the emptiness of the new house magnified certain longings, and early career success had swelled his confidence—and restlessness.
Each girl offered different temptations—Mia's sultry beauty, Elisha's perfect figure—yet both promised no strings, and together they offered themselves. Who could refuse?
Landon, at any rate, hadn't.
His refusal had never been more than half-hearted.
The so-called "set-up" was simply a guilt-easing story, a way to sanction the desire he already harboured.
He needed that narrative to balance the guilt he felt toward Tracy and Rachel, to preserve the illusion that he hadn't actively sinned.
Of course Landon would never frame it that way; to him, he had simply been trapped.
Yes, trapped—no doubt about it.
Shameless... "Landon, chin up, eyes closed," Zoë's voice cut through his thoughts.
He lifted his chin and closed his eyes, feeling the soft sweep of the brush across his lids.
When he opened them again, Elisha had closed her script and was watching him, a faint smile curving her lips.
The smile held attention, admiration, intimacy—none of the earlier resentment from outside.
Today they would shoot one of Season One's pivotal scenes: Tony Almeida finally discovers that Nina Myers (Sarah Clarke) is the mole inside CTU, the traitor who has murdered several colleagues—including Tony's friend Jamey.
It is an emotionally explosive confrontation, moving from stunned disbelief through betrayed fury to deep hatred, all in a breathless arc.
A formidable challenge for any actor.