Two weeks ago, Emily Henry fans everywhere screamed in horror. The cause? Patrick Schwarzenegger.

The nepo baby, who I only know as the guy in that bad movie with Bella Thorne and the incestuous brother from “The White Lotus,” has somehow managed to creep his way into the highly anticipated adaptation of Henry’s 2020 romance novel “Beach Read.” And to my disappointment, he is not playing a background character with little to no screentime. In fact, they had to go the extra horrific mile and cast him as leading man, Augustus “Gus” Everett.

On Instagram, director Yulin Kuang defended the decision to cast Schwarzenegger, saying that she had ​​written in her notes that “Patrick is a slowburn.”

“I have always maintained that we are not casting a character, but a relationship,” she wrote. To that I say: absolutely not, that is the complete wrong way to go about it.

In a previous article, I discussed the recent adaptation of “People We Meet on Vacation,” which Kuang wrote for. Putting my love for Emily Bader as Poppy Wright aside, I was extremely disappointed by the lack of nuance and care shown for Alex’s (Tom Blyth) character. Poppy and Alex’s relationship didn’t hold a candle to the source material because so much was missing from the characters individually, whether that be backstory or just a fleshed-out personality.

Based on Kuang’s statement, it suddenly became clear exactly why “People We Meet on Vacation” was such a let-down as an adaptation: There cannot be a “we” without an “I” in any romantic relationship, a fundamental element of romantic relationships that Kuang seems to be disregarding.

Kuang calling Schwarzenegger a “slowburn” is laughable, not just because his frat-boy exterior is the complete antithesis of grungy, Nick-Miller-esque Gus Everett, but also because she completely missed the mark on why he is such a beloved character. “Beach Read” would not be half as romantic if it wasn’t for both leads’ growth individually. A person cannot be defined by a relationship, just as a relationship holds no real substance without individualism.

The book follows the story of successful romance novelist January Andrews, who no longer believes in love, and acclaimed literary fiction author Gus Everett, who is experiencing writer’s block. The two of them cross paths and challenge each other to write a story they respectively detest: Gus will write a happy ending and January will write the next “Great American novel.”

Throughout the novel, we are shown exactly how and why the two are so stubborn to uphold their rivaling beliefs about love and “happy endings.” And by getting to know each character separately, Henry makes it so much easier to understand their skepticism when those beliefs are challenged. It also makes it gut-wrenchingly romantic when the pair eventually feels comfortable enough to shift their points of view.

Lately, there seems to be confusion among romance screenwriters and their consumers as to what defines a romance. A relationship is not a series of tropes strung together. Instead, it’s a waltz between two separate individuals, combining unique rhythms and styles that work great separately but work even better together.

Culturally, we as a society have always seemed to romanticize the idea of becoming a unit when we enter a romantic relationship, as this provides comfort and safety especially for women. The dependability of the masculine and the reassurance of the feminine are allegedly at risk if we become too independent. And while there are definitely seductive elements to the idea of being so entangled with another person that we morph into one, it’s also unrealistic and outdated.

We shouldn’t just disappear once another person enters the equation. We have to maintain our sense of self for our own sakes and for the benefit of the relationship. Romance media that prioritizes the individual before the conjoined, such as Emily Henry’s literary universe, show us that we matter before, after and during our various relationships.

Beyond the ability to love others, there lies a stronger, necessary capacity to love ourselves. Relationships should only be a stepping stone on a greater journey toward identity.

Kuang’s statement is a worrying preview into a movie that has yet to be born. And if her statement is anything to go off of, the director’s inability to hone in on Gus and January’s complexities will prove to be an issue for lovers of the book. However, that doesn’t mean all hope is lost. Both Schwarzenegger and Phoebe Dynevor, who was cast as January, have big shoes to fill. But with good writing and decent chemistry, they might surprise us all.

Sophia Kang is a sophomore writing about romance media in her column, “Love, Actually,” which runs every other Tuesday.