The couch feels like a trap now. Your spine is straight, hands tight in your lap, smile long gone. The host tilts their head, feigning curiosity, voice smooth and patronizing.

“So,” they say, “your mom’s in adult entertainment. Growing up around that kind of environment… did you ever think about following her path?”

A pause. Cameras waiting.

“No,” you say calmly. “I’m an actor. That’s what I chose.”

The host laughs, light and dismissive. “Okay, but wow, you’re getting defensive already.”

You frown. “I’m not defensive. I answered your question.”

Finn shifts beside you, subtle. He’s watching now.

“I just think it’s interesting,” the host continues, “how uncomfortable you seem. It’s your background. You can’t expect people not to ask.”

“My mom’s career doesn’t define me,” you say, firmer now. “And I don’t appreciate the implication.”

The host raises their eyebrows. “See, this is exactly what I mean. You’re making it awkward.”

A few laughs from the audience. Your stomach drops.

“You asked,” you say. “I answered respectfully.”

“And I’m responding honestly,” the host says, leaning back. “But when you shut down like this, it makes it seem like you’re ashamed. That’s not my fault.”

Finn’s jaw tightens.

The host keeps going, encouraged.

“I mean, this industry talks,” they say. “People wonder. With your mom’s reputation, of course they’re curious if you’d do the same. Acting offended just makes you look immature.”

Your chest burns. “Please don’t talk about me like that.”

The host scoffs. “If you can’t handle a simple question, maybe you’re not cut out for public life. You can’t play the victim every time someone brings up facts.”

Something shifts beside you.

Finn exhales once, sharp. Then he stands.

The movement is sudden. Chairs scrape. The audience quiets instantly.

“Yeah, no,” Finn says, voice cold. “We’re not doing this.”

He reaches down, not rough, not hesitant, and takes your hand. Steady. Certain. He pulls you up with him.

The host stammers. “Finn, sit down, I’m just—”

“You’re being a bully on a couch,” Finn cuts in, not even looking at them now. “You asked a gross question, got a clear answer, and then decided to blame them for not letting you sexualize their family on live TV.”

The host bristles. “That’s not fair—”

“No,” Finn snaps, finally turning to face them. “What’s not fair is you standing there acting like they’re the problem because they didn’t smile through your disrespect.”

The studio is dead silent.

“You’re not provocative,” Finn continues. “You’re lazy. You poke people until they bleed and call it honesty. It’s pathetic.”

A ripple of gasps. Someone offstage mutters his name.

Finn doesn’t care.

He squeezes your hand. Grounds you.

“We’re done,” he says flatly. “You don’t get to talk to them like that.”