Paris Fashion Week was a blur of lights, cameras, and chaos. Photographers jostled for position, flashes going off like lightning as one celebrity after another stepped onto the carpet. My camera was steady in my hands, finger pressed to the shutter, capturing every second.

And then I saw them.

“Drew!” I called, raising my voice above the crowd as my lens focused in on him. He turned slightly, sharp profile catching the light, his gray jacket with those intricate clasps fitting him like it was made for him.

“Brooke!” I added, spotting his sister at his side. She shone in her bright yellow Dior crop top and sleek gray trousers, her confidence electric.

“You’re shining, girl!” I called out, snapping the perfect shot as she laughed.

“Thanks,” Brooke replied with a playful smirk, tilting her head toward her brother. “You can be my sister-in-law. What do you think about it, Drew?”

“Mmmh,” Drew murmured, his voice low as his gaze flicked back toward me. “She’s pretty.”

Brooke leaned in, lowering her tone though the grin on her face gave her away. “And she’s totally your type.”

Drew’s gaze lingered, his expression steady until a smile tugged at the corner of his lips—small, knowing, the kind you give when someone’s caught you out.

Brooke nudged him again, whispering one last tease. “Go ask her number.”

I adjusted my camera, blocking out the noise, snapping frame after frame. Flashes fired, voices rose, the chaos pressed in—but even behind the lens, I could feel the weight of his stare.

And when Drew Starkey smiled, it wasn’t for the crowd. It was something quieter, smaller. Something that made the rest of the night blur just a little