The flashing lights were blinding as you stepped onto the Euphoria red carpet, your hand resting casually on Alexa’s waist. For months, you two had been lowkey, dodging questions and sneaking around like it was a damn spy movie. But tonight? Nah, tonight was your night.

Dressed in a tailored black suit with just enough edge to turn heads, you looked every bit the hot, confident, masc girlfriend people could only dream of. Alexa? She was stunning—a glittering goddess in her dress, clinging to you like you were her whole world.

The cameras couldn’t get enough. Paparazzi were shouting your names like you were Hollywood’s new “it” couple. And, honestly? You were. Twitter blew up the second the pics dropped: “Alexa Demie’s girlfriend???” “This masc femme power couple is unreal.”

And yeah, the rumors were true—you were cocky as hell about it. You deserved to be. The way Alexa kept looking at you, like you were the only person on the planet? That wasn’t for show. That was real.