Bourbon and Ray-Bans

Things returned to normal after that conversation. Norman and I didn’t spend an excessive amount of time together outside of work. Just a friendly movie here and there and often someone else tagged along. There were no more sleepovers. I’d taken to staying in the same hotel Andy frequented when production ran late. It was a pain in the ass, but Peachtree City was a hell of a lot closer to the studio than my loft in the city. The fangirls had mostly died down now that the paparazzi fodder was held to a minimum. No one bothered the two of us about our relationship too much anymore.

And yet, I still turned down every single guy who so much as looked in my direction.

Norman did not have the same problem. He dated freely and openly, often bringing his girl of the moment to visit the set. I did my best to smile and act like it didn’t bother me. Lauren even said I mostly pulled it off.

As season three filming advanced, my scenes opposite Norman were increasing. Grace and Daryl’s relationship was growing closer and closer to physical intimacy everyday. I knew it was only a matter of time before we’d be asked to do something intimate on camera. And sure enough, the dreaded script fell into my lap in October.

I read through it about a dozen times during some downtime in the safety of my trailer. Someone knocked on the door and I knew it was Norman. He entered and sat down beside me on the sofa.

“What do you think? Like how this script plays out? Grace and Daryl’s scene?” He seemed oddly comfortable with everything.

“I like it. It makes sense and isn’t gratuitous. It allows the audience to get inside Daryl’s headspace in the aftermath of Merle’s death. I like learning more about that guy and know that’s half Grace’s job - uncovering bits and pieces of the baby Dixon. Plus, the fangirls will swoon.” I really did like what the writers had done. Grace and Daryl had a complicated relationship and the scene really reflected that. It was nice having such brilliant, challenging material to work with.

“I never saw Daryl making the first move, but this makes sense. Merle’s death would certainly send him over some sort of ledge. I’m glad they’ve given up on the drugs thing, anyway. Sex is such a better outlet, don’t you think?”

“I think that’s Norman talking, not Daryl.” That had come out sharper than I had intended. But he didn’t seem offended.

“You’re probably right. Well, I look forward to using my brother’s death as an excuse to throw myself at you next week.” For the first time in a long time, he kissed my cheek and left me with my thoughts.

^^^^^^^
The first scene we shot the next week was Merle’s death. Emotions were high that day and Norman didn’t speak to anyone except Rooker. The scene gutted both men and left everyone quiet. It was moments like this that sucked yet made our show so powerful. Seeing a man like Merle come around to redemption only to be brutally murdered and turned, forcing his baby brother to stab his brains out was shocking stuff. And it was so fucking good.

A couple of days later, I woke up two hours early and was unable to go back to sleep. Norman and I would be filming our scene first thing. I was worried, beyond worried actually. My stomach was churning and I felt like a panic attack might be rapidly approaching. I got into a hot bath and willed myself to calm the fuck down. Nothing was going to happen today that hadn’t already happened in real life. At 5, I got into my car and headed to Senoia.

In the scene, Daryl would be in his cell distraught over having to put his brother down. Grace, being worried about his state of mind, would enter his cell timidly and sit on his table, much like he had done for Carol after Sophia’s death. The parallelism was perfection. They’d exchange some rather heated words about why she was bothering him and he didn’t need anyone’s pity. She’d let him yell at her as she went to sit beside him on the bed. She’d reach up through his protests to turn his face to hers wanting only to reassure him that Merle had died a hero’s death and saved them all. Finally, he’d angrily lock eyes with her and nearly spit out the following:

“Is this what you want? Huh?” And then he’d kiss the ever-loving shit out of her, push her down on the bed, and start to have his dirty little way with her until he realized that she’d stopped responding to him after the initial kiss. At that point he’d break down, sobbing his apologies as she rocked him in her arms.

It was such a gut-wrenching scene and required a lot of delicacy. The set was on major lockdown as it had been all week. No one wanted spoilers leaking about Rooker’s death or our kiss. When I arrived at the studio, Norman was already there in full makeup, smoking a cigarette, and drinking a gigantic cup of the world’s shittiest coffee.

“Morning, B. See ya in a few.” He walked over, kissed my forehead, and headed off to set while I went to makeup. The interaction hadn’t been much but it unnerved me nevertheless. All throughout makeup, I didn’t say a single world despite Roxy’s attempts to get me chatting. I was afraid of what I might say, honestly. Something inside of me wanted to run screaming away from this - whatever this was.

Once I arrived on set, I tried to get straight into character. Grace loved Daryl despite how volatile a relationship they shared. She was able to push his buttons like no one else and able to keep up with his nastiest self. Unlike the Dixon boys, her life before the apocalypse had been mostly pleasant. Literature professor and happily married, but she’d always danced to the beat of her own drum. Grace and Daryl wouldn’t have ever even crossed paths before. But now that they had, in these crazy days after, they’d somehow managed to become the perfect partners.

We talked to Nicotero about the scene for almost 30 minutes before the cameras actually rolled. We filmed the first part of the conversation several times from different angles and playing up different emotions. Once Greg was satisfied with the first part, we moved on to the moment everyone had been waiting for.

I was thoroughly in character and so wasn’t as nervous as I might have been. Or should have been, really. Greg yelled ‘Action’ and right before Norman was supposed to kiss me he froze - just stared at me with this deer in headlights look I’d never seen before. I went straight to panic mode.

“What? Did I do something? Are you okay?” I knew this was somehow my fault. Greg just looked at us speechlessly.

“No. No. You didn’t do anything. I guess I just lost my focus for a second. Mind if we take a break, Greg? I need a cigarette.” Greg nodded his acquiescence and followed Norman outside. I remained seated on the bed in utter confusion. No one else said anything - at least not to me - while we waited.

A few minutes later they returned and we re-set up the scene. Norman took his place beside me again and whispered a quick apology into my ear. I looked at him clearly concerned but he just shook his head and gave me a small smile.

The second time Greg yelled ‘Action’ Norman didn’t hold back. He growled his line to me and smashed lips against mine. I was so shocked and taken aback at the ferocity of his kiss that I did nothing but react. I wasn’t Grace in that moment, but Brodie. The girl who in that moment and in front of all these people, not to mention several cameras, knew without the shadow of a doubt that she was in love with the man getting paid to kiss her right now. Hopelessly fucking lost in something just beyond her grasp.

I totally forgot myself and the scene. I kissed him back, clawed at the back of his head demanding he get closer. The sounds coming out of my mouth - his mouth - who even fucking knew anymore - were embarrassing, but I didn’t give two shits. This time when he kissed me I felt and remembered every single second. His tongue pushing and battling against my own. His lips sucking at my bottom lip - the bruises I knew he’d be leaving behind. When he pushed me down on the bed my legs wrapped around him instinctively and I thrust my hips up against his. I’d forgotten where I was until he pulled back. And the mortification seeped in.