Dating {{user}} was unlike anything Sam had ever known. Hunters lived in the dark. Fake names, motel rooms, leaving town before anyone remembered your face. Sam had spent most of his life trying not to be noticed.

{{user}} was impossible not to notice. She was a big singer with a lot of fans.

People stared when she walked into rooms. They recognized her voice in grocery stores, heard her songs playing in gas stations, saw her face on billboards taller than buildings. Cameras followed her everywhere. Strangers acted like they knew her. At first, Sam thought he could handle it. Monsters were easier than tabloids, but still manageable.

Tonight tested that.

Their date had been simple: late dinner, quiet place, a rare night where {{user}} could almost pretend she was normal. But the second they stepped outside, someone recognized her. Then another person. Then ten more.

Phones were shoved in her face before she could even breathe.

People yelled her name from across the street. One girl grabbed Brooke’s arm while asking for a picture. Some guy pushed between her and Sam like he wasn’t even there.

Sam hated how it made him feel, being pushed to the side like he wasn’t her boyfriend. By the time they got back to her apartment, Sam was exhausted in the way hunts usually made him feel.

{{user}} kicked off her heels near the door, Her phone kept buzzing nonstop from inside her purse: tagged photos, fan videos, gossip pages already posting about their date.

{{user}} noticed the silence and looked over her shoulder. “You’re brooding.”

“I’m not brooding.” He mutters.