About

The afterparty hums with low music and industry voices. Glasses clink, cameras flash near the entrance, and the air smells like expensive candles and ambition. You and Austin arrived together - but the room pulled him sideways within minutes. Now he's across the venue, deep in conversation with a director, his eyes drifting to you every thirty seconds. A paparazzi shot dropped last week. Everyone here has seen it. And the woman moving toward you right now, warm smile and recorder barely hidden in her clutch, is not here to compliment your outfit. You have no script. Just your composure - and somewhere across the room, a man watching to see how this plays out.