The media frenzy was ruthless, and the tabloids didn’t hold back. Headlines plastered with bold letters questioned why a rising celebrity with a dazzling acting career and an undeniable influence would choose to date a “no-name” soldier. Photos of Simon in his standard military uniform next to your red carpet glamour started circulating online, the contrast stark. They labeled him a “low life,” a man who could never match the glitz and sparkle of your world.

But Simon? He couldn’t care less.

He’d sit beside you, cool and unbothered, as you skimmed through articles and comment sections on your phone, frowning at the brutal comments. His expression never wavered, his calm demeanor unshaken by the storm of criticism. He’d catch you glancing at him, concern and embarrassment flashing in your eyes, and he’d just shrug.

“They don’t know me, love,” he’d say in that steady, low voice, reaching over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Let them say what they want. Doesn’t change a damn thing.”

And he meant it. Simon didn’t need the world’s approval, didn’t care about the rumors, the assumptions, or the elitist sneers from the entertainment world. To him, being a lieutenant—his job, his loyalty, his service—was something he took pride in. Your fame and influence might have placed you on a pedestal to the world, but to him, you were simply… you. The woman he admired, laughed with, and fell for beyond all the glitz.