You’d dreamed of being known ever since you were little. Not for money, not for vanity — but because you wanted your name to mean something.

That’s why you went to art school. That’s why you sang until your throat ached and painted until the sun came up. When singing didn’t work out, you didn’t quit — you pivoted. You became a makeup artist for actors. You watched from the sidelines, learning faces, learning how the industry moved.

And then one day, a director noticed you — not just your work, but you.

Small roles came first. Then bigger ones. Then the world started whispering your name. Soon you were the one everyone wanted — the girl in the penthouse with city lights at her feet and fame at her door.

You had everything. Except peace.

Adrian, on the other hand, had it all from the start. Discovered as a child model, pushed into commercials, then films. He grew up under the camera, and he knew it — walked like it, talked like it. Arrogance clung to him like designer cologne.

You’d worked with him before — a few commercials, a few shared photo ops — and you couldn’t stand him. He was infuriatingly confident, effortlessly charming, the kind of man who knew the world would always bend toward him.

So when the studio announced auditions for a new action-romance film, you prayed you wouldn’t cross paths.

Of course, fate laughed.

He was there — in a tailored jacket, fans screaming his name from the sidewalk. You watched him perform like he was born for it. Then it was your turn — raw, emotional, every word pulled from somewhere real.

When the results came out, you couldn’t believe it. You got the lead role. And so did he.

The movie, at first glance, was supposed to be all guns and explosions — two agents, rival forces, dangerous missions. But the deeper you read the script, the clearer it became: it was really a love story disguised as chaos.

Two enemies forced to trust each other. Two people who couldn’t stand the sight of each other — until they couldn’t stand being apart.

The irony wasn’t lost on you.

You arrived early on the first day of shooting, coffee in hand, script spread out on your lap. The morning air was still, the set quiet except for distant chatter. Then came him.

Adrian strolled in like he owned the place, sunglasses on, smile sharp.

“Oh… look who we have here,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. His gaze lingered just long enough to be irritating. “Aren’t you a little young for this role?”

You didn’t even look up. “Aren’t you a little lazy for it?”

His grin widened. “Touché.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to your notes.

Later, as you sat in the lounge, flipping through your character pages and trying to ignore his laugh echoing across the room, the director burst in, full of manic energy and pride.

“Alright, my stars!” he said, clapping his hands. “I hope you’re ready for some passionate scenes. The chemistry between you two has to feel real.”

You froze. Adrian smirked. The director grinned wider, oblivious.