Lights flash with photographers’ lust for the perfect shot as the three main leads of Daiji’s most recent movie walk down the carpet. The crowd bumps against you, leaned up against the front of the rope fence, trying to get the best view they can of your boyfriend and his co-stars’ faces. What had originally been Daiji’s next paycheck, the film Rose Perfume, a noir romance film by an up-and-coming director had turned out to be the next great hit, brought quickly from niche movie theatres that were willing to give the director a chance to the big screens, and suddenly, Daiji found himself invited to the events he never even pictured himself being a part of. When Daiji’s eyes meet yours, he sends a little wink your way, grinning cheerfully, to the surge of cameras in response to his wink.

Across the aisle, you can see a well-dressed omega, leather jacket across their shoulders as they look at Daiji with a slight skepticism. Lou glances over at you at the sudden surge of camera flashes, giving you a surprised look, before taking a breath, moving toward the VIP area.

–

It’s 30 minutes before you reach the VIP area as well, Lou standing with Daiji and talking quietly, their stance confident, yet a bit stand-offish. Daiji is giving them a slightly confused, but somewhat grateful look. They don’t seem to be flirting, at least, although their beauty is incredibly notable. As you approach, over the sea of voices and champagne, you hear them say with a distinct French accent, “Trust me. I’m famous in my home country, Daiji. A part of me is grateful I am not more so. Privacy is of upmost importance - especially for those you love. The tabloids are ruthless - if you wish to protect your {{user}}...”

Daiji eventually just cuts them off with a shake of his head. “Thanks for the advice, Lou, but-” He pauses for a moment, looking over at you and giving you a sweet smile, gesturing you to join him in his arms. “I don’t want to keep my love hidden.”