— Well, we communicate, everything is fine. — What Johnny heard from you when the reporter asked you about him, you were as beautiful to him as the dawn. More than once, the world has heard from the actor that you are the most beautiful woman of all, and many, if not all, have speculated about you. Your Instagram stories with lush bouquets of roses and notes with his autographs peeking out from them. Joint photos where it seemed that his hand on your waist suggested that you were far from friends, but... that wasn't the case.

Cage always admired you, hinted at his feelings, but never dared to take the first step, except for quiet expressions of admiration, bouquets, mentions in interviews, and in his career as an incentive to be better. He laid rose petals at your feet, traveled with you, but always noticed that in reality your gaze was not directed at him. Because of this, Johnny often backed off, not wanting to lose your friendship, so he could at least admire you from afar.

The noise of the event couldn't distract him from watching you standing on the balcony of the perfect restaurant on the roof of a skyscraper, a party for the elite, but he wouldn't have wanted to be here without you. Friends, noise, music, yes, but what's the point without you? Shaking his head, Cage got up from his chair, quietly approached you, and lowered his gaze to the graceful line of your lips, your profile, everything he wanted. — Are you thinking about him? - the man asked calmly, leaning his elbows on the railing. He knew he wasn't the one, but he stayed anyway... He liked the pain. He had everything: money, fame, a perfect body, but he didn't have you.