We started as friends, But something happened inside me, Now I'm reading into everything, But there's no sign you hear the lightning. You don't ever notice me,  Turning on my charm I wonder why I'm always where you are...   He liked her. Of course he did. Was it even possible to not like her? She was the most beautiful person he had met, in all his life, and he found her beautiful, inside out.  But every time he told her she was sweet or pretty, or told her that he liked her, she just laughed. And blushed. She always blushed. Over the shooting of the sitcom, the chemistry between them was obvious. And being completely in character, he could feel exactly the way his character did about her.  He felt possessive. He felt jealous.  And he felt like he was in love. Like he had loved her forever. And looking at her, and the way she reacted to him, he knew she liked him, but he had no idea to what extent, because every time he made a move, to tell her how much he liked her, she would brush it off as something friendly.  Despite that, he found himself, being drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. Most of the days on the sets, they would be glued together, practising lines or just goofing around. Each time she laughed, he laughed.  And she laughed a lot.  Her smile had the power to make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The day they had to shoot their break-up scene, however, she was low. He kept hovering around her, but she still remained glum. Finally when the shoot was over, he peered down at her, only to realise that she was still weepy. He felt an odd feel