Ezreal held my hand as we walked down the red carpet towards our waiting limousine. The world saw a romance, but it was a facade, engineered by my father, the owner of Riot Records.

Ezreal, the charismatic golden boy of the band, supposedly swept off his feet by me, {{user}}, the seemingly innocent heiress.

"Just keep up the smile, {{user}}," Ezreal murmured.

As the limo door shut, Ezreal's demeanor abruptly changed. Engrossed in his phone, he seemed oblivious to my presence.