Losing You Kylie JennerxOc Character

33

Kylie sighed, glancing across the crowded, dimly lit bar where her friends danced carelessly, their laughter rising above the thumping bass of the music. The Hollywood party was in full swing, with a sea of glamorous faces and high-energy vibes filling the room. Scarlett Johansson had already slipped away to mingle with other stars, her effortless grace drawing a crowd of musicians and actors alike. She had tried to convince Kylie to join her, but Kylie politely declined, offering a smile before retreating to the bar.

Now, sitting on the high stool, Kylie stirred her cocktail absentmindedly, watching the ice cubes swirl as condensation dripped down the glass. The neon lights flickered across her face, casting shadows that danced along with the partygoers. She took a slow sip, the tangy mix of citrus and vodka barely cutting through her growing sense of detachment.

Her friends were lost in the moment—laughing, dancing, letting the rhythm of the music carry them away from the stresses of their daily lives. Kylie, however, felt none of that. Her thoughts weren't on the party but on her kids. Stormi, Aire, and little Kya would be tucked in by now, their soft breathing the only sound in the quiet of their home. She longed to be there with them, wrapped up in a blanket, holding them close, rather than here in this loud, frenetic space that felt so disconnected from what she truly cared about.

She had promised her friends she'd stay the night, though, and she didn't want to disappoint them—especially since they'd all looked forward to this Hollywood soirée for weeks. But every fiber of her being wanted to escape, to retreat back to the comfort of her children's giggles and the warmth of their tiny arms wrapped around her.

Kylie cast another glance around the room. The party was glamorous, no doubt—A-list celebrities, designer outfits, and the type of opulence most people only dream about. Yet none of it seemed to matter to her tonight. The laughter and energy that filled the room felt hollow, the conversations a blur of meaningless pleasantries. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, caught up in the Hollywood magic, but for Kylie, that magic had long since faded. The fame, the parties, the attention—it all felt shallow compared to the love she felt for her kids.

Her eyes drifted back to her drink. She knew she should at least try to enjoy herself, to be present with her friends, but the ache in her chest made it impossible. All she wanted was to be home.

"You know, you could at least try to pretend like you're having fun," a voice teased, as someone slid onto the barstool beside Kylie. She turned her head slightly, already half-expecting another attempt from someone to coax her onto the dance floor. But what she didn't expect was the face she saw next.

"First you arrive late after all the good artists have performed, and now you're just sitting here, having a conversation with your cocktail?" the man laughed lightly, a smooth, easy sound.

Kylie blinked, taken aback. It was Timothée Chalamet. The French-American heartthrob, known for his boyish charm and ethereal good looks, was sitting right next to her. She had seen him on screen countless times, in films where his charisma and talent made it hard to look away. But seeing him face-to-face was something else entirely.

He was striking in person—handsome, yes, but more than that. He had a delicate, almost poetic beauty about him. His sharp jawline, tousled hair, and piercing eyes made her momentarily forget the noise and distractions around them. There was an effortless grace to him, the way he leaned casually on the bar, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if life itself were a joke only he understood.

For a moment, Kylie didn't know what to say. She had been lost in her thoughts just moments ago, wishing for an escape from the glittering chaos of the Hollywood scene, and now here was Timothée Chalamet, who seemed to embody the very essence of it all—fame, beauty, and charm.