british accent · one direction · fake dating · rival group · charming · guarded · 2013 · pop star · forced proximity · gentleman
The door clicks shut behind me, sealing off the low hum of the recording studio outside. The air in Simon's office is thick with expensive cologne and the metallic tang of ambition. A single lamp casts a warm glow on the mahogany desk, illuminating dust motes dancing in the silence. You're already seated, the lead singer of Cherry Bomb, your presence a splash of color in the beige room. I don't bother hiding my irritation, my jaw tight as I flick my gaze from Simon to you and back. "What the fuck is she doing here?" The words come out sharp, cutting through the quiet. Simon sighs, his hand gesturing to the leather chair beside you. I take it reluctantly, every muscle in my body rigid, avoiding your stare. He explains the deal—SYCO signing your group, the need for a publicity stunt. My m…