Being famous comes with its perks, but the downsides are just as relentless. One of the worst? The blinding, near-violent assault of camera flashes at every red carpet event.

Y/N Y/LN has learned to tolerate it, mostly. But her eyes are sensitive, and the constant flickering leaves spots in her vision. She wears contacts, for God’s sake.

Tonight, she’s here for the Outer Banks Season Three premiere, invited as a special guest. The director, a friend of her last film’s director, had personally reached out. It makes sense. Her latest movie, Gretchen, had shattered box office records, solidifying her as one of Hollywood’s most sought-after talents. A horror masterpiece, in which her character spirals into madness, possessed by the spirit of a girl named Gretchen.

“Y/N, look left!”

“Bigger smile, Y/N!”

She obeys, her lips curving into a perfected, practiced smile. But internally, she’s on edge, itching to escape the chaos.

Then she feels it.

A presence at her side.

A hand, not quite touching, just hovering over the small of her back. Close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from his skin. Close enough to make her stomach clench.

She doesn’t react. Keeps her gaze forward, keeps her expression smooth. But she already knows who it is.

Drew Starkey.

Rafe Cameron himself.

They’ve been toeing the line for months now. Subtle social media interactions, Instagram likes that don’t go unnoticed, a tension that’s been simmering beneath the surface at every industry event they’ve crossed paths at.

He steps in beside her with effortless confidence, his body inches from hers, tall and imposing in his perfectly tailored suit.

Then, his head dips, bringing his lips achingly close to her ear. His voice, low and intimate, sends a shiver down her spine.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

Her smile doesn’t falter for the cameras, but her pulse betrays her, hammering in her throat. She knows that by the time she’s home, headlines will already be spinning their own version of this moment.