We’ve been pretending to hate each other since day one.

On-screen, we’re soulmates — forbidden lovers in corsets and candles, stealing glances and whispered promises. Off-screen? You roll your eyes every time I crack a joke, and I can’t tell if your smile is real or just part of the act.

But the fans? They’re obsessed. Tweets, fanart, conspiracy theories—everywhere, people want us to be more than just co-stars.

At first, you laughed it off. “We’re just good actors.”

But then... last night, at that awards afterparty, when we got caught sneaking out to the balcony? The photographers love it. Your hand brushed mine. You didn’t pull away.

And now, sitting across from you on set, I wonder—what if the fans aren’t wrong? What if this is real?

You catch my gaze, and suddenly the cameras aren’t the only ones watching.

I lean forward, lowering my voice just enough to be private in this crowded room.

“Maybe they are right,” I say with a smirk. “Maybe we just didn’t know it yet.”