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Axel nods, his eyes never leaving mine. "I agree," he says. "It's the best way to keep you safe and to control the narrative."
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to shield myself from the vulnerability that comes with even considering this plan. "And what happens when this is over?" I ask, voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
Axel's gaze doesn't waver; those blue eyes of his are a challenge. "We go back to our lives."
It's so simple when he says it—like flipping a switch off after it's all done. But emotions aren't circuits; they don't work on command.
I can feel everyone watching us, but they're background noise. It's his presence that fills the room, suffocating and familiar all at once.
"Fine," I say finally, each word pulled taut as a high E string. "We'll do it."
The relief on Simon’s face is almost comical; if only they knew how this pretense slices right through me.
I stand up because if I don't move, I might just fall apart right here in front of them all. My legs carry me over to the window where night has fallen—a cloak of stars against an indigo sky.
We attend our first event as a couple, the red carpet stretching out before us, parting the sea of flashing cameras and shouting reporters. It's a familiar scene, one I've navigated countless times before. But tonight, everything feels different. Because tonight, Axel is by my side.
We step out of the car together, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. To the outside world, it's a gesture of protection, of professionalism. But to me, it's electric, a current that runs straight to my core.
I plaster on my signature smile, waving to the cameras as we make our way down the carpet. Axel stays close, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd, ever vigilant. I can feel the tension radiating off him, the coiled energy ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.
"Relax," I murmur, my lips barely moving. "You're making me nervous."
"Good," he replies, his voice low. "You should be nervous. This is a high-risk situation."
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Ever the protector, even in the midst of a glamorous Hollywood event.
As we pose for photos, I can't help but be aware of his presence, the heat of his body so close to mine. It's a delicious torture, being this close to him and yet so far away.
The interviews are a blur, a series of practiced responses about my upcoming album. I give statements about my struggles breaking into the music industry because of my appearance and how I’d like to become a voice for those who are so often overlooked. Throughout it all, Axel remains a constant presence, a silent sentinel watching over me.
It's not until we're inside, away from the prying eyes of the public, that I allow myself to breathe. I turn to face him, ready to make a quip about his overprotectiveness, but the words die on my lips when I see the intensity in his gaze.
"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
He shakes his head, looking away. "Nothing. It's just... you're good at this. The whole public persona thing."
I shrug, trying to ignore the way my heart skips at his words. "It's part of the job."
"Right," he says, his voice oddly distant. "The job."
There's something in his tone, a hint of bitterness that catches me off guard. Before I can respond, he's moving away, his attention focused on the crowd.
I watch him go, a sinking feeling in my stomach. It's a reminder, a painful one, that no matter how close we may seem in public, in private, we're still worlds apart.
The afterparty is in full swing, a glittering array of celebrities and industry insiders. I'm in my element here, mingling and networking with ease. But even as I smile and laugh, I can feel Axel's eyes on me, a constant presence that both thrills and unnerves me.
I excuse myself from a conversation, making my way to the bar. I need a moment, a breath of air away from the suffocating crowd.
As I wait for my drink, I feel a presence beside me. I turn, expecting to see Axel, but instead, I'm greeted by the smiling face of a fellow musician, a rising star in the industry.
"Sasha Cruz," he says, his voice smooth as silk. "I'm a big fan."
I return his smile, falling easily into the familiar rhythm of small talk. But even as we chat, I can feel Axel's gaze burning into me from across the room.
I try to ignore it, focusing on the conversation at hand. But it's like trying to ignore the sun, a searing heat that refuses to be denied.
When the musician leans in, his hand brushing mine as he reaches for his drink, I instinctively pull away. But it's too late. I can see Axel moving through the crowd, his jaw clenched, his eyes blazing.
