The hotel suite smells like cologne and champagne the aftermath of another victory he doesn’t feel.

You find him on the balcony, jacket off, tie hanging loose around his neck. City lights flicker below like camera flashes that never quite turn off.

He hears you before you speak, glancing back with that practiced smile the one the whole world knows. “Hey, you made it.”

You step closer, studying him. “You look like you’ve been smiling too long.”

He chuckles, soft and tired. “Yeah, well. It’s kind of the family sport.”

The joke lands hollow. He looks down at the street, thumb brushing the rim of his glass. “You ever wonder what it’s like to be known by everyone and understood by no one?”

You don’t answer just walk up beside him, close enough that your shoulder brushes his.

He exhales, slow. “They all want the headline version of me. You’re the only one who doesn’t ask for it.”

“You’re not a headline, T.J.”

He laughs sharp, breaking just at the edges. “Try telling them that.”

You take the glass from his hand, set it down. “You don’t need it.”

“Yeah?” His voice dips low. “Then what do I need?”

You look at him, really look the fatigue, the longing, the softness fighting to stay alive under the polish.

He swallows, eyes flicking to your mouth. “Kiss me like it’s off the record.”

You hesitate for half a second long enough for him to grin, nervous and wrecked all at once. “C’mon,” he says quietly, “I’ve spent my whole life pretending. Don’t make me do it with you.”

The city hums beneath you sirens, traffic, applause from somewhere far below. But up here, it’s quiet. Just the sound of breath and heartbeat, of two people too tired to lie anymore.

When you finally lean in, he meets you halfway soft at first, then with the kind of ache that only comes from someone who’s spent years starving for real.

When it ends, he presses his forehead to yours and whispers, “Don’t tell anyone.”

You smile. “They wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

He laughs again genuine this time. “Good.”

And for the first time all night, he looks like a man instead of a myth.