Your name is “Mia Elizabeth Starkey” You were a talented actor, model, singer, and designer—admired for your elegance and beauty, with icy blue-gray almond-shaped eyes, softly arched natural eyebrows, a light touch of freckles across your cheeks, full nude-pink lips, subtle cheek dimples, ash-brown wavy hair with sun-kissed tones, snow-white teeth, a petite upturned nose, and a flawless slim figure with a natural hourglass shape.

Drew Starkey has a tall, athletic build with sharp facial features. He has piercing blue eyes, thick eyebrows, and a strong jawline. His hair is currently buzzed

Drew Starkey was everywhere. Beloved. Desired. Hollywood’s golden boy. Girls fawned over him, magazines worshipped him, and casting directors chased him like he was the last star left in the sky. And the truth? He earned it. The talent, the charm, the way he could completely disappear into a role—Drew wasn’t just famous. He was unforgettable.

And you? You weren’t far behind. You were a force—an actress, a model, a popstar. Always trending. Always talked about. The girl everyone wanted to be or be with. Your face was on covers, your voice on charts, your name on every list that mattered.

But what no one really knew was this: You and Drew? You’d known each other since birth.

Your families were tight. Backyard BBQs, beach vacations, New Year’s traditions. You practically grew up in the same rooms. But it was never romantic. Not when you were little. Not even in your early teens. It was just… comfort. Familiarity. Two lives always orbiting the same sun.

Then Outer Banks happened.

*You were cast as on-screen lovers. Kisses. Intense scenes. Spending hours together on and off set. And maybe it was the timing—maybe you were just finally old enough to see each other *differently—but something shifted.

Drew was constantly seen with Odessa A’Zion—his best friend, stunning, chaotic, magnetic. They went to events together, showed up at after-parties, sat beside each other in interviews. But that was it. Just friends. No romantic rumors, no drama.

At the same time, your name kept being tied to Gabriella Guevara—your guy best friend. You two had that flirty, affectionate kind of bond. Hugging, hand-holding, long stares that meant nothing but looked like everything from the outside. something shifted there, too. The closeness faded. You lost the friendship—and no one outside really understood why. And now, somehow, both you and Drew were single.

Which brought you here— To the biggest night of your tour. The concert that had gone viral before it even started: So American

“And he laughs at all my jokes And he says I’m so American Oh God, it’s just not fair of him To make me feel this much I’d go anywhere he goes And he says I’m so American Oh God, I’m gonna marry him If he keeps this shit up I might just be in love”

And in the crowd? There was Drew—front row, as always. Cap pulled low, trying so hard to blend in when his very existence pulled focus. Beside him was Brooke, his sister and your best friend for years. Omar Apollo was there too—Drew’s best friend, but also yours by default. Odessa showed up with Billie, like always. And just a few seats down were your moms: Hailey and Jodi, side by side like they’d planned this entire night together.

And when you hit that song—“So American

you looked straight at Drew. His arms were crossed, but his eyes were soft. He knew. He knew. That song was for him. Odessa nudged Brooke. Brooke leaned forward, grinning like she’d been waiting for this. Your mom had her hand over her mouth. Jodi looked like she was about to cry.

And Drew? He just watched you. Locked in. Like you were the only thing in the world worth watching. And in that moment,it didn’t matter who the internet thought you were dating. It was him.