▌𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘔𝘌𝘚
❛ do you know how 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 frustrating it is? ❜ he cut her off. ❛ to have to 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 you? to pretend like i don't feel 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 when i look at you?❜
starr's breath caught in her throat.
❛ because i do...
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chapter FORTY FIVE villains eraaaa .
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they'd been sitting in the car for twenty minutes, but it felt like twenty hours.
starr's knee hadn't stopped bouncing the entire time — eyes flicking between the hotel entrance and mason, who was slumped low in the driver's seat, phone camera raised like some undercover fbi agent.
"do you think they know we're here?" she whispered, like whispering would somehow make her less visible through the windscreen.
mason didn't even look up. "I think the five million times you've said that makes me want to throw myself through the sunroof."
starr smacked his arm. "focus! what if they see us?"
mason let out the world's most dramatic sigh, thumb hovering lazily over the shutter button. "bro, we're literally in a blacked-out mercedes parked twenty metres away. what are they gonna do, develop x-ray vision and clock us through the window?"
starr's eyes narrowed. "you don't know what they're capable of. ahliya's had filler, she could have superpowers by now."
mason snorted under his breath, but his camera stayed locked on the hotel doors.
starr glanced at the clock on the dash. 11:42pm. her stomach was churning like she'd mainlined three iced coffees and chased them with a red bull. they'd been planning this for a week — ever since they'd pieced together that dylan and ahliya were the ones leaking their pictures to the press. the sneaky little freaks had been meeting up in secret for months — feeding every grimy tabloid with just enough gossip to tank both mason and starr's careers without ever leaving a paper trail.
now, it was payback time.
"you better get the shot the second they walk out," starr muttered, eyes locked on the glass doors like she could will them into opening.
mason tapped his screen a few times, adjusting the brightness like he was setting up some pulitzer-worthy expose. "relax. this isn't my first rodeo."
"your last rodeo was an instagram story of your own elbow."
