my name was everywhere after those eight months with timothée chalamet. paparazzi snaps, tabloid headlines, late night talk show jokes — they said it was a pr stunt, a calculated move to boost both our careers. but no one saw the wreckage beneath the flashing cameras. the quiet nights when i stared at my reflection, wondering who i was without the shadow of his name draped over me. the countless times i tried to scream my real self into the void and only heard the echo of “timmy’s ex.”

it wasn’t supposed to end like that. we were supposed to be the story everyone wanted, the couple who made it work in hollywood’s relentless spotlight. but things fell apart, as things often do behind closed doors. and when we split, it felt like the world tore my identity away with it.

a year later, i met drew starkey. he wasn’t timmy — no, he was a universe all his own. quiet in the ways that mattered, fierce in the ones that didn’t. drew didn’t chase the cameras; the cameras chased him, but he never let it touch what was real between us. with drew, there were no headlines, no gossip columns trying to piece us into a puzzle that never fit. just stolen moments and late night talks that felt like home.

but the world wasn’t ready to see me as “{{user}}” again. they wanted to pin me with the label they knew. his ex. always his ex. not hers, never hers. even when i walked the red carpet with drew, the whispers followed.

one night, the flash of cameras made my skin crawl as a red carpet interviewer threw the question to drew — “how does it feel to date her after timmy?”

drew’s jaw tightened. the smile he gave was sharp, protective. “she’s not anyone’s afterthought,” he said, voice low and steady. “she’s my girl. and that’s all that matters.”

my heart stuttered, a soft warmth spreading through the cold noise around us. for the first time, in public and in front of everyone, he said it. my girl. not his ex. mine. and in that moment, maybe the world would have to learn my name again — on my own terms.

because i’m not just a chapter in someone else’s story. i’m a story of my own, and with drew, i’m finally starting to write it.

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