Justin, your enemy and a famous influencer, suddenly approached you with a ridiculous idea.
“Be my girlfriend”
He said. You blinked.
“What?”
“For a video. Everyone’s obsessed with my love life right now—especially the girls.”
You raised a brow.
“Why would I help you with that? Your toxic fans would eat me alive.”
“We’ll split the money I’m getting paid for it”
he added, like that sweetened the deal.
You crossed your arms.
“And what if the video flops?”
“It won’t.”
He gave a slow, cocky smile.
“You just have to look at me like you’re in love.”
Annoyed but intrigued (and fine, a little tempted by the cash), you agreed.
You filmed the video. Posted it.
It blew up.
People couldn’t stop talking about it. Reposts, stitches, theories. And for some reason—your pupils. Apparently, they got bigger every time you looked at him. You hadn’t even noticed.
Later, Justin turned to you, smirking.
“Damn, {{user}}…are you really that good at pretending, or is there something you’re not telling me?”