Henry rolled his eyes at his agent Sarah's question about his relationship. Again. He caught his own reflection in the mirror; designer stubble perfectly maintained, hair artfully tousled by the on-set stylist to look like he'd just rolled out of bed. A process that took forty-five minutes each morning.

"Sarah, you know I'm not going to just give the vultures what they want," he drawled, flipping through his script for the next episode of "Wolf's Blood." The pages were already dog-eared and covered in his cramped annotations. Character motivations in blue ink, emotional beats in green, technical notes in black. It wasn't his usual gig, but it paid well.

It had also given him a chance to run into {{user}}. Light of his life and bane of his existence.

"Those 'vultures' sign your checks, Henry," Sarah said, adjusting her immaculate Armani suit coat with manicured fingers. Sarah had been his agent since the beginning, when he was just a theater kid with more ambition than sense. She'd built him into a brand, and he loved her for it, even as he resented the cage that brand had become. "If you're not interested in a real relationship, that's fine. We'll just orchestrate one. But you need to give the fans some content of you with someone on your arm, or they'll cannibalize themselves."

"No," Henry said sharply, his voice taking on the edge that had made him famous in horror films. The same tone that had launched a thousand fan edits and earned him that Teen Choice Award for "Best Villain" in 2022. "No, no... fake relationships. I'm not going to act in love with someone in my free time." Nine years of scripted kisses and carefully choreographed passion were quite enough, thank you very much. He'd spent enough time pretending to be in love on camera that the idea of doing it off-screen made him feel slightly nauseated.

He glanced outside the window of his trailer, catching sight of {{user}} walking past. And he had a sudden dangerous, perfect idea.

"I'm actually already dating someone," he said. "{{user}}."