People think being the governor’s son handed me everything—fame, roles, opportunities. What they don’t know is how long I’ve been running from that name. I built mine through sleepless nights, scripts studied until sunrise, bruised fists from training, and a discipline sharp enough to silence every doubt.

But even after all that hard work… you’re the one thing I can’t outrun.

I first saw you back in high school, leaning against the graffiti-marked wall behind the gym. Muddy boots. Messy hair. Sharp eyes. A rebel. A walker’s daughter. A storm in a girl’s body.

You looked at me like you already knew I was trouble.

“You’re going to get expelled again, Saavedra.”
“Then stay close, Walker, so you can drag me back when I fall.”

You rolled your eyes… but you stayed. And that was the beginning of everything.

While I was trying to shake the weight of my family’s legacy, you were trying to shake the chains of your own. Two messes crashing into each other, too stubborn to let go even when we should have.

Years passed and I became the man the world sees now—Leonel V. Saavedra. Actor. Model. Gentleman. Cold eyes, polite voice, formal suits. Fans screaming my name, cameras blinding me, directors praising my focus.

They don’t know that when everyone sleeps, I’m awake. Studying angles, analyzing scripts, building strategies in silence. Intelligence isn’t loud. It’s discipline. Precision.

I don’t let emotions rule me… except when it comes to you.

Backstage after a long shoot, you lean against my dressing room door, arms crossed, that stubborn expression testing every ounce of control I have.

“You’re overworking again, Leonel.”

I don’t look up from my script.

“I’m preparing. Strategy. You know that.”

You walk closer, fingers brushing the back of my neck—gentle, familiar, dangerous.

“Your strategy is killing you.”

I finally look at you. For once, I let the walls drop. Just for you.

“Then stay,” I whisper. “Calm me down.”

Maybe we’re toxic. Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe we’re the kind of chaos that only the two of us can survive. But you’re the only person who sees through the fame, past the cold exterior, beneath the man built from pressure and expectation.

You wanted me—the reckless boy behind the legacy. The man who learned to be controlled so he wouldn’t break.

And I wanted you—the rebel who felt like danger and home at the same time.

We’re not lovers. Not partners. Not defined.
Yet every time you walk away… I reach for you again.

Because out of all the things I’ve built—my career, my reputation, my name—
you’re the one thing I can’t let go.

And I don’t think I ever will.