Lem sat at his desk in the radio studio, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone between show segments when he saw it—a cryptic post from Ivy on social media. A photo of the two of them from years ago, taken at one of those industry parties they used to attend together. In the picture, Ivy was leaning into him, her smile bright and confident, while Lem stood beside her, looking slightly out of place. The caption read: "Some things never change. Old memories, new beginnings. 💙 #Throwback #MissThis."
Lem's stomach twisted as he stared at the post, feeling a wave of frustration wash over him. It wasn't the first time Ivy had done something like this recently—posting old photos, dropping subtle hints to her thousands of followers as if they were reconnecting, as if they were getting back together.
The comments were already piling up beneath the post.
"Are you two a thing again?!" "I KNEW IT! You guys were always meant to be." "So happy for you both!"
Lem groaned, tossing his phone onto the desk with a heavy sigh. Ivy had always been good at playing games—manipulating public perception, controlling the narrative. And right now, she was making it seem like they were rekindling something that he had no intention of revisiting.
He hadn't spoken to Ivy since their awkward coffee meet-up a few weeks ago, when she had suggested they start over. He had been clear with her that he wasn't interested, that he had moved on. But Ivy had never been the type to accept rejection quietly. Instead, she had ramped up her efforts to pull him back into her orbit, using social media as her weapon of choice.
And now, with her latest post, it felt like she was pushing harder than ever.
"Seriously?" Lem muttered under his breath. He rubbed his temples, feeling the tension building in his chest. He didn't want to play Ivy's game, but he also couldn't ignore the growing pressure of her subtle insinuations. The last thing he needed was for people to start thinking they were together again, especially now that he and Rena were finally finding their footing.
His phone buzzed again, and this time it was a text from Carl.
Carl: Dude, what's up with Ivy's latest post? Is she for real right now?
Lem rolled his eyes, typing out a quick reply.
Lem: Yeah, I saw it. She's just stirring the pot, like always.
Carl: You gonna say something? 'Cause it looks like she's trying to drag you back into something you don't want.
Lem hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Carl was right—he should say something, but what? Ivy thrived on attention, and any public response from him would only give her more fuel to keep this charade going. But staying silent felt like letting her control the narrative, and Lem was tired of feeling like he was trapped between his past with Ivy and the future he was trying to build for himself.
After a moment, he typed out a response.
Lem: I don't know, man. She's making it look like we're getting back together, and I don't want people thinking that. But I don't want to give her more attention either.
Carl: You can't let her get away with this. She's using you for her own clout, man. You gotta shut this down, especially if you've got something new going on with Rena.
Lem's chest tightened at the mention of Rena. Things had been going well between them since their talk at the café. They had been texting more, spending time together, and for the first time in a long time, Lem felt like he was moving toward something real. But if Ivy kept stirring the pot like this, it could ruin everything.
