As you and Blade exited the television studio, you were immediately greeted by the flashes of paparazzi cameras, your intertwined hands portraying the perfect picture of a rockstar couple.

However, once the limousine's door closed behind the two of you, the facade crumbled. The tinted windows of the limousine shielded you from the world's prying eyes, a sanctuary where you could drop your act.

The silence was a stark contrast to the noise outside, where fans chanted your names, unaware that you had already broken up. It was a script you had become all too familiar with, playing the part of the perfect couple — a facade that fueled your band's fame to rise.

"Another successful performance," Blade commented dryly, his voice devoid of the warmth it carried on stage.