Forever in Love with Skeet - Kim Kardashian x Timothee Chalamet

Chapter 1

You can see the jealously in Kim's eyes as Kanye and Taylor look madly in love with each other.

Kim is nervous. Not for herself though. It's for her husband. The day he's waited for since his album debuted at No. 1 has finally arrived.

Its the Grammy Awards, and today Kanye West would find out if the blood, sweat and tears he'd shed into crafting the masterpiece that Rolling Stone guaranteed would bring home no less than three Grammys were articles if tabloid nature or not.

Kim bounces her foot against the lush carpeted floor of her changing room, seated on the chair beside her dressing table. She gazes at her reflection, and realizes that her makeup needs a little touch up.

She selects a stick of kohl from her newest chain and applies it carefully.

ever since he started working on the album, something about Kanye just seemed- off.

He would come back from the studio tired, and refuse to talk to her. Calls for dinner together would always go by unanswered, voicemails left unheard.

Oh well, she thought. He's just busy, he'd answer after a while. And she'd push away the intrusive thoughts that crept into her mind, and go on establishing the beauty empire she built as an independent woman with no help whatsoever from her doting mother.

But he never did.

Slowly as the days changed into weeks, Kanye's excuses became less and less believable.

He'd tell that he was shooting a video at New York, and that was only if she asked him. Never voluntarily did he call her anymore.

When she'd checked Instagram that night, he'd posted a picture of him at L.A, grinning like a madman.

When was the last time he'd given her a simple smile? 3 weeks? A month ago? Kim couldn't even remember.

Not like he ever actually was good at lying, though. She'd always suspected that Kanye was hiding something from her.

The seed of doubt in her brain had grown into a shrub, despite her best efforts. Its roots clung onto her neurons as they shot thought after thought.

As she scrolled through her Twitter feed that night in bed, something caught her eye.

It was a picture of Kanye with his hands around another woman. Her face isn't clear, but she doesn't need to because she immediately recognizes the icy blonde hair.

Kim feels her throat grow dry. She checks the Twitter handle, making sure it isn't a fan account making those scarily realistic edits they normally make.

It's Kanye's producers. And the picture wasn't a fake.

Her husband was cheating on her with Taylor Swift.

There was no other plausible explanation for it. Her hands were around his waist, and she looked at him like he was the only working air conditioner in a heatwave.

And they were kissing.

Kim grabs the glass of ice cold water on her bedside table and chugs it down, grateful for the numbing sensation it leaves.

Kim's brain has switched to autopilot mode, guiding her botoxed hands to her microneedled face as she applied some finishing touches to her foundation-caked pallor.