Lights, camera—action.

You’re an up and coming famous celebrity; your photos on billboards and your name on everyone’s lips.

You’re the talk of the town, and it only keeps amplifying because of the way that people ship you with your bodyguard, Ghost.

All it took was one picture to get the rumors going.

It went viral of you and him leaving an event; his hand on the small of your back and you looking up at him and smiling as you walked. All it took was that one photo to get everyone thinking you and your body guard were the perfect couple; and you both denied it all. Even if it did make you blush, even if it did make him chuckle to himself.

It was just his job, right? To protect you? That’s what you both convinced yourself, at least.

And tonight, you were on your way to another red carpet event.

Ghost was by the car, clad in his usual attire—a black suit, a mask pulled over his head. His muscles strain against the fabric, his gaze intense.

“Ready?” He asked, gruffly.