My boy / Drew Starkey

50

Drew 

Mila and I were curled up on the couch, the soft warmth of her body pressed against mine, and everything felt right in the world. I could hear the quiet hum of the city outside, but in this little bubble, nothing existed except the two of us. She was nestled comfortably in my arms, her head resting against my chest, and the rhythm of her breathing was enough to soothe every nerve in my body. Money was sprawled out at our feet, completely content, the three of us wrapped up in this peaceful, perfect moment.

I couldn't get enough of this, her soft curls brushing against my skin, her warmth seeping into me, the steady rise and fall of her chest. I felt like we were two halves of a whole, our bodies perfectly in sync, and for the first time in a long while, I felt at peace. No cameras, just us.

It was everything I'd wanted. everything I'd been hoping for since we started this... whatever this was. Something real. Something just for us.

But then, my phone buzzed.

It was just a little notification, but it felt like an earthquake in the calm. I glanced down at it, frowning when I saw it was from Jonathan in the group chat. I tried to ignore it, but the familiar weight of responsibility that always followed a message like that pulled at me.

"Mila, Drew, you need to open Instagram..."

I nudged her gently, pulling her attention away from the peaceful world she'd built in my arms. She shifted, blinking up at me with that soft, sleepy look she always wore when she woke up. It was like a second version of her, vulnerable, calm, and a little less guarded. I didn't want to disturb her, but I had to.

"Mila," I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be, "Jonathan just texted. He said we need to open Instagram."

She sat up a little, pushing her hair out of her face as she looked at me, concern flashing in her eyes. "Why? What happened?"

"I'm not sure, but let's check."

Her brow furrowed as she shifted closer, pulling her legs up under her as she grabbed my phone from my hand. I wasn't ready for what we were about to see, and deep down, I knew it wasn't going to be good. But I didn't know how bad it would be.

We opened the app together, and my stomach dropped as soon as we saw it.

The photos were everywhere. And they weren't just any photos. They were of me—taken by fans in Paris—pictures of me walking around, laughing, taking in the sights, completely unaware of the cameras that were catching every second. At first glance, it was just another celebrity sighting, but the context was everything.

Because Mila had posted earlier that she was in Paris, and no one was supposed to know we were here together. It was supposed to be our getaway—our escape. A few days of peace where we could just be... us. But now, thanks to these photos, the secret was out.

I felt the tension in Mila's body as she read through the comments and captions, the way her fingers tightened around the phone like she was trying to hold herself together. I knew exactly what was going through her mind. The same thing that was going through mine.

This was going to stir up the rumors again. The ones we'd been trying so hard to avoid. Everyone was going to see this and assume that we were dating—again. The last thing we needed right now was for the world to think we were something we weren't ready to admit.

I could feel her body stiffen, the energy between us changing in an instant. The peacefulness we'd just shared seemed like a distant memory now, swallowed up by the weight of the headlines that would follow. I wanted to comfort her, to say something, but I couldn't even find the words. What could I say? I hated that these rumors were always chasing us, always just one wrong move away from becoming the next scandal.