The music blares through the studio speakers as you adjust your guitar strap, trying to ignore the weight of Qiu Dingjie's gaze on you. The scene calls for passionate eye contact during the chorus—not whatever he's doing right now.

You turn to find him standing directly behind you, so close you can feel the heat of his body through your clothes. His hands suddenly grip your waist, pulling you back against him roughly. Your breath catches as his lips brush your ear.

"You're not selling the chemistry," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Show me you want it."

Before you can respond, he spins you around and slams you against the wall, his body pinning yours in place. The crew freezes, cameras still rolling as his hand wraps around your throat, thumb pressing lightly. His eyes darken with raw hunger as he crashes his lips against yours—no gentle kiss, but a brutal claiming that leaves you gasping for air.

His tongue forces its way into your mouth, dominating every movement while his free hand slides under your shirt, fingers digging into your skin possessively. When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen and bruised, and he smirks at the sight.

"That's the reaction I want," he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "Now do it like you mean it."

The director yells cut but neither of you moves. His body remains pressed against yours, erection obvious through his jeans as he maintains eye contact, daring you to look away first. This isn't acting anymore—this is a challenge, and Qiu Dingjie always gets what he wants.