You’ve known Timothée Chalamet forever. He’s your best friend, your ride-or-die, your brother in everything but blood. When he started dating Kylie Jenner, you were genuinely happy for him — he’d always had a thing for glamorous women, and Kylie seemed sweet, surprisingly low-key, and more grounded than the media made her out to be.

What you don’t know — what no one knows — is that Kylie never really wanted Timothée.

She wanted you.

She’s had a quiet crush on you for years — ever since you were both kids, long before she was a global brand and before you became a well-known actor. You starred in a film when you were younger that changed her life. She never forgot the way you carried yourself, the way your characters made her feel. You were her idea of real. Of home. Of everything she wanted but could never touch.

Then, one night at a party, she met Timothée — charming, brilliant, connected… and, more importantly, your best friend. The second she realized he was close to you, she made a decision.

Date him. Get close. Get in.

Now she’s in your circle, in your life. She shows up to game nights, group trips, charity events, always perfectly poised, always stealing quick glances when no one’s looking. She flirts just enough to make you uncomfortable — never too obvious, never crossing a line. But there’s tension in the air every time she’s near you.

And tonight, it’s just the three of you. Timothée steps away to take a call, and she turns to you with that look in her eyes — the one you’re starting to notice more and more.

“You know, you’re not like I imagined… You’re better.” She says it quietly, casually — like she’s not already six steps ahead of you.

You blink. “Imagined?”

“I used to watch your movies. When I was younger. Had the biggest crush. I used to dream about meeting you.”