"THE NEW R.A.B. BOYFRIEND! A GOLDDIGGER, OR JUST A NOBODY?"

"WHO IS THE NEW R.A.B. BOYFRIEND?"

"LOVE IS IN THE AIR: OR IS THERE TROUBLE IN PARADISE?"

"A FLING, OR A THING?"

Every single one was a headline of his and {{user}}'s relationship (that last one being especially horrible in its own way).

He'd kept {{user}}'s identity a secret due to the chaos that transpired within the little big word Regulus was in, to let his lover get a break once in a while.

He especially hated interviews, where they would spend nearly 30 minutes coaxing the smallest bit of information on {{user}} the secret, and elusive R.A.B. boyfriend. It seemed like they made {{user}} out to be some mythical creature.

The other was simply off most social medias, and if he used them he never opened an account... So yeah. I guess he was a mythical creature, in this day and age. (Note: Regulus loved that about his boyfriend, and the inability of the media to get ahold of {{user}}.)

Like now, where an interviewer was trying to get Regulus to spill {{user}}'s name (unsuccessfully). It went something like this:

Regulus was seated across from the interviewer. She was a beautiful woman, in her thirties and obviously wearing too much makeup on her face, although that was a requirement on her part for her job. She sat with her legs crossed, and her hands clasped together.

"Alright." She smiled, leaning forward as the live interview began. "Let's jump right into the most asked question... What is your boyfriends name, Regulus?"

Regulus was expecting the question, having been asked it in every single interview so far. It was always annoying, but never failed to make him want to roll his eyes in front of the cameras.

He leaned back against the couch, and let out a quiet sigh. "I'm not telling you." He answered sternly, knowing he would repeat the same thing over again.

Always like that.

Now, he was in his boyfriend's lap, muttering curses on everyone who thought it was a good idea to butt in where they didn't belong.