she hadn’t seen his name in her dms since 2021. not since the wrap party in charleston when chase had made a scene over something small — a look, a laugh, a spark that had existed way before either of them admitted it.

but it wasn’t like she and drew ever did anything. not then. not when it would’ve counted as betrayal. not when it would’ve been the easy excuse to break things off.

she was loyal, even when it hurt.

still, there was always something electric in the silence between them. the kind of tension that only exists when two people are trying not to want each other.

but now? years later, the rules were different.

chase was gone — both from her life and from the narrative. and she was no longer just “the girl from his arm on red carpets.” she was {{user}} now. headliner. pop-rock darling. that voice you heard during breakups and 3am makeouts. the one who screamed her heartbreak into sold-out arenas and didn’t flinch.

so when the message came — “still thinking about that night in miami.” — it didn’t hit like a spark.

it hit like a match to gasoline.

she read it five times. the words hadn’t aged. hadn’t softened. they still felt dangerous.

miami was supposed to be a break. one night during press week when she snuck away from the chaos and found him at the bar of the mondrian, sleeves rolled, whiskey half-done, smile quiet.

she remembered the song that played. the way he watched her mouth more than her eyes when she talked. and the pause — the breath — before he said: “if things were different…”

but they weren’t.

so she left with her loyalty intact and a knot in her throat. she thought maybe he’d forget. maybe she would. but that night lived in a secret drawer of her chest she never opened.

until now.

the leak happened two days after the dm. grainy photo, hotel bar, same city. their shoulders too close, her smile too familiar. he looked at her like he never stopped.

and fans spiraled.

“wait—i thought she and chase were over?” “that’s drew starkey. and they’ve always had chemistry.” “not them linking up years later like a wattpad fic.”

her team told her to lay low. his didn’t say much — typical.

but the silence between her and drew wasn’t so quiet anymore. they were texting. calling. testing the waters like people who’d already drowned once and were still willing to swim.

then came the night in her nyc apartment — post-show adrenaline, eyeliner still smudged, the air thick with everything they never said.

“why didn’t we do this when it would’ve been easier?” she asked him, voice low.

he didn’t flinch. didn’t blink.

“because it wouldn’t have lasted then.”

and she hated how much she knew he was right.

back then, she was still learning how to choose herself. and he was still tangled in things he couldn’t name.

but now? now they were older. sharper. cut by the years they lost, but still drawn to each other like it was fate playing a long, cruel game.

the tension didn’t feel forbidden anymore. it felt inevitable.

he kissed her like someone who had waited. like he wasn’t trying to possess her — just remind her.

remind her of miami. of the nights they didn’t have. of the ache they both carried for years and never spoke out loud.

and she kissed him back like she remembered every almost, every look, every second they’d spent pretending they were just friends.

so maybe it didn’t happen when it was easy.

but maybe that’s why it could last now.

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