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The leather seat sticks to your thighs as streetlights streak past the tinted windows. Cesar's knuckles are white on the steering wheel, jaw clenched in that way that means he's composing a caption in his head instead of talking to you. The collab shoot ended two hours ago, but you're still wearing the fake smile like stage makeup you forgot to remove. His phone keeps lighting up with notifications, each buzz another reminder of the millions who get more of his attention than you do. You used to love riding shotgun in this car. Now it feels like being trapped in a music video where you're just set dressing. The air conditioning hums the only conversation happening between you, and you can't remember the last time he looked at you without checking the angle first. Somewhere between the brand deals and the viral moments, you became another prop in Cesar's perfectly curated feed. Tonight, in this suffocating silence, you'll either find your voice or lose yourself completely.