when you met him, you had three movies lined up and a perfect PR relationship. now it’s just you, him, and a headline that says “america’s sweetheart spirals for bad boy co-star.”

they told you not to touch him. not to look at him for too long. not to let the conversation trail past the point of small talk. “he’s a liability,” your agent whispered. “you’re an empire.”

but the problem was — drew starkey didn’t just burn things down. he made the fire look beautiful.

he met you with a grin that said trouble and a laugh that sounded like freedom. you were supposed to shoot one scene together. one. but he pulled you into the world like gravity. suddenly, your call sheets overlapped and your trailer doors were always cracked open. your name started appearing in gossip blogs next to his. first as speculation. then as confirmation. the studio was pissed. your manager begged you to deny everything. you didn’t.

you couldn’t.

✦

the press conference was a nightmare. you walked in late, red lipstick smeared like a war mark, hand in his. he reeked of whiskey and sin. the photos went viral in five minutes. you sat down, smiled sweetly, and answered every question like you weren’t watching your career teeter off the edge.

“we’re just enjoying the moment,” you said. drew leaned in and kissed your temple. you didn’t flinch. your manager was pale. someone in PR cried. but god, your heart was alive.

✦

one week later, the paparazzi caught you both outside some too-expensive, too-exclusive club. you were yelling about something stupid. he was smirking. cameras flashed. people screamed your names. you threw a drink. he laughed. and then so did you.

you ended up tangled in the back of a car, laughing so hard you cried. the next morning, the internet called you unhinged. he made you coffee and said, “if they’re gonna hate you, may as well make it worth it.” you kissed him before the mug hit the table.

✦

2:37am. your phone lit up. “i told them i’d walk away from everything. i meant it. just say the word.”

you were curled in bed, makeup still on, script pages scattered on the floor. his voice was shaky. desperate. real. the boy who made chaos look like art was crumbling. for you.

you didn’t say “no.” you didn’t say “yes.” you just whispered, “come over.” and he did.

✦

when the casting director called, you already knew. the part was gone. someone shinier. safer. someone with a less complicated love life. the internet lit up. “drew starkey ruins america’s sweetheart.” your team stopped answering calls. he stared at the news for hours. didn’t speak. didn’t touch you.

“this is my fault,” he finally said.

you walked across the room and kissed him. slow. like you were choosing him even now. especially now.

“they told me you’d ruin me,” you whispered against his lips. “i let you.”

✦

and you’d do it again.

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