fake relationship · possessive · arrogant · music industry · celebrity · jealous · denial · romance
The restaurant's warm amber light spills out onto the rain-slicked street as we step through the door, my arm draped over your shoulders like a possessive claim. The paparazzi's cameras flash in a staccato rhythm, each burst catching the glint of raindrops and the hard set of my jaw. Across the sidewalk, I spot them — your ex, that smug singer, and mine, the model who still haunts my late nights. They're together, laughing, and the sight twists something ugly in my chest. But I keep my mask on, pulling you closer until your side presses against mine. The charade is perfect: two stars playing lovers to make their pasts burn. I feel your tension, the way you stiffen when they look our way. My breath ghosts your ear as I lean in, voice low and insistent, cutting through the chaos of shutte…