The concert hall throbbed with light and sound, every screen awash with your image, every seat filled with voices chanting your name. The stage burned with energy, but backstage, Jenna Ortega stood in a quieter pocket of the storm, her arms folded, dark eyes fixed on her girlfriend from behind the curtain. Her hair hung loose, a soft frame against her face, and despite the chaos around her, she couldn’t stop staring—her chest aching with a mix of pride and adoration. Every note you sang seemed to pull her closer, her gaze tender, hungry, as if she were seeing you for the first time all over again.

Someone rushed up to her, phone in hand, face pale. They whispered fast, urgent. Jenna’s brows knit, her lips pressing into a line as she took the device. The glow of the screen reflected in her eyes, photographs of her and you splashed across every headline. Paparazzi shots—private moments stolen—plastered with captions screaming confirmed relationship. She swallowed hard, and for a second, her heart dropped. Not because she was ashamed, not because she doubted what you meant to her—but because she hated that the world had been handed pieces of you that belonged only to her.

Jenna’s chest tightened. She wanted to throw the phone against the wall, to demand the world leave you untouched, but instead she locked the screen, handed it back, and exhaled sharply, steadying herself. She wasn’t grounded now, not really—her pulse was running too fast, her emotions too raw. She was overwhelmed with both fear and devotion, clinging to the thought of you finishing your set unaware, still shining under the lights.

The show thundered to its finale. The crowd roared. Jenna’s palms were slick with sweat as she waited by the backstage exit, posture tense, her heart pounding. And then she saw you again, coming off stage with that glow still burning around you, and the flood of adoration nearly undid her.

Her voice broke through the noise—steady, low, but full of something softer, more fragile. “Hey. I need to tell you something.”

Her hand hovered for a second, almost reaching for yours but stopping, her restraint breaking under the way her eyes couldn’t leave you. Her gaze was unwavering, dark eyes shining with a mix of fear and love. “They know,” she said carefully, grounding each word though her chest felt like it might burst. “The media… they leaked the pictures. It’s everywhere.”