𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧' 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 ─────⋆⋅★𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘺

𝟓𝟔. 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧

The backlash came fast and unrelenting. Tabloid headlines screamed allegations of betrayal, photos of Suki and Drew's intimate kiss outside her car splashed across every outlet. Phrases like "Hollywood's Most Scandalous Love Triangle" and "Popstar Cheats on Rising Star" were thrown around with abandon. The media, eager to unearth more drama, began dredging up Suki's past as Tallulah Rose, spinning tales so far from the truth she couldn't help but laugh.

Except now, Suki wasn't laughing alone.

Drew was perched on the kitchen counter in her sleek Calabasas home, nursing a mug of coffee as Suki sorted through a stack of contracts and resumes for her new independent music team. Her cat, Z, curled lazily by Drew's side, his hand occasionally scratching behind her ears.

"Z?" Drew teased, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You actually named your cat Z?"

Suki glanced up from her papers, narrowing her eyes playfully. "Yes, I did. What's your problem with it?"

"Nothing," Drew said, shrugging dramatically. "Just ironic, considering it was the joke baby name we came up with that one time. You know, for the kid we were going to hypothetically ruin with a single-letter name."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the smile tugging at her lips. "Well, it suits her," she said, gesturing toward the sleeping cat. "She's got the attitude of someone who'd think they're too cool for a full name."

Drew laughed, his gaze soft as he watched her. "Of course she does."

Despite the chaos swirling outside their walls, inside, it was peaceful. Domestic, even. Drew made breakfast most mornings—eggs with hot sauce for himself, avocado toast for her. He spent afternoons reading scripts on the couch, Z stretched across his lap, while Suki toyed with melodies in her home studio. At night, they cooked together, his hand lingering on her back as she chopped vegetables, her laughter filling the room as he botched yet another recipe.

For the first time in years, Suki felt like she could breathe.

But the outside world didn't disappear so easily. Every time she checked her phone, another headline or comment thread seemed to attack her character. Drew's PR team had voiced their concerns about how the media frenzy could impact his Oscar campaign, hinting that maybe it was better if they stayed out of the spotlight for a while. Suki knew Drew had dismissed the idea immediately, but she could see the weight of it on his shoulders.

"Drew, you don't have to—"

"Don't even finish that sentence," he cut her off one evening, his tone firm but gentle. They were curled up on the couch, the glow of the fireplace casting soft shadows around the room. "You're not a distraction, Suki. You're my life. That's not going to change because a bunch of strangers think they know us."

Her heart clenched at his words, the sincerity in his voice. "It's just... a lot," she admitted. "The headlines, the speculation... Sometimes it feels like they're trying to bury me alive."

He shifted, pulling her closer so her head rested against his chest. "Let them try," he said softly, his lips brushing against her hair. "You've been through worse, and you're still standing. Besides," he added, a teasing lilt creeping into his voice, "what would the industry even do without you? You're the whole damn show."

She laughed, her hand fisting in the fabric of his shirt. "Maybe I should just leave. Buy a house in the middle of nowhere and live off the grid with Z."

"Right," Drew drawled, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. "Because that's exactly what you'd do. You'd be out there two weeks before you'd miss the chaos."