he saw you first. that’s how he always tells the story. the night was loud, the kind of chaotic that blurs your vision, and still—he saw you. a laugh too sharp. a dress too bold. a girl who didn’t care who he was. and god, did he care about that.

drew starkey wasn’t just a man with a jawline. he was the moment. the rising star. the one hollywood whispered about. but when it came to you? he was just… a boy.

a boy who followed you around that party like a storm. he asked for your number with shaking hands. he texted you “get home safe” like it was a prayer. and when you didn’t answer until morning, he still smiled. of course you were worth waiting for.

you were chaos in heels. and he thought he could handle it. spoiler: he couldn’t.

the press caught on before you did. “new hollywood power couple?” “the actor and the untouchable girl.” photos of you on red carpets. videos of him watching you like you were the main event. god, the way he looked at you. like he built you. like he knew he’d break for you.

and still, you didn’t love him. not really. not yet. he was a story to tell. a beautiful, blinding thing you didn’t believe was real.

but he was. and he loved you like art.

he took you to italy. bought a vintage camcorder just to film you on balconies. “so i don’t forget what heaven looks like,” he’d whisper. he kissed you between takes. wrote songs you never heard. and smiled like you hung the moon.

you didn’t say “i love you” back. not when he cried in your lap. not when he told you he’d never felt like this. not even when he said, “i think you could ruin me.”

and then, like all beautiful things—he cracked. slowly.

a missed dinner. a text left on read. a picture of you with someone else. you told him it wasn’t like that. he nodded. but the light left his eyes that night.

you didn’t mean to hurt him. you didn’t think he’d stay hurt. not him. not drew.

but the world watched him fall apart. interviews with shorter answers. less sparkle in his smile. fans noticed. they always do.

you finally said “i love you” after he stopped saying it first.

you said it quietly, like it was yours to protect. but by then, he had walls. and his love? was something he gave away once. to you. and you hadn’t kept it safe.

now he’s smiling again. but not at you. a new girl on his arm. she laughs too loud. wears your perfume. maybe he doesn’t notice. maybe he does.

he still talks about you sometimes. never by name. but you hear it. in the way his voice shakes. in the way he still looks for you in crowds. in the way he flinches when someone says “almost.”

you love him now. of course you do. how could you not?

he was the beginning of your favorite story. he just wasn’t the ending.

and the tragedy is— he would’ve burned the world for you. but now you’re the ashes. and he’s somewhere warm.

the cameras still chase you. still ask about him. and every time you smile and say, “we’re good,” a part of you screams. because the truth is—

you fell last. but you fell harder. and the world? watched it all.

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