George woke up to the sharp sound of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. He reached for it groggily, squinting against the early morning light seeping through the curtains. It was barely 6 a.m., but his screen was already flooded with notifications.
His heart sank as he opened the first one. Then another. And another.
There, splashed across every major entertainment news outlet, was a candid photo of him, Lydia, and Chris from the night before. The headline was sensational as always: "Hollywood's Golden Boy Spotted with Mystery Woman. Who is She?"
The image was innocent enough. The three of them sitting at a corner booth, laughing like old friends. Lydia, dressed in casual shorts and an oversized T-shirt, looked carefree, the embodiment of a girl who didn't belong to the polished, glamorous world George now inhabited. That was the problem.
George felt a knot form in his stomach.
He had always been in the public eye. That was part of the job. But he had spent years fiercely guarding the people who mattered..the ones who had nothing to do with the flashing cameras and relentless gossip columns. His grandmother Pearl, his past life in Illinois, and most of all, Lydia. He had sworn to keep them out of his crazy world.
But now, with a single dinner, that protective bubble had been pierced.
His thumb hovered over the screen as more headlines popped up, speculating about Lydia's identity. Some labeled her an "unknown extra," others dived into theories about a secret relationship. One blog even posted a grainy picture of them from the set, fueling rumors about a budding romance.
George cursed under his breath.
He swung his legs out of bed, pacing the room as frustration simmered within him. He had spent years building walls around his private life. No one knew about his childhood, about Pearl, about the girl he'd been in love with since he was fifteen. And now, they were prying into it, dissecting it for clicks.
His phone rang again. This time, it was Keith, his manager.
"You are seeing this?" Keith's voice crackled through the line, sharp and to the point.
"Yeah, I saw it," George muttered.
"It's blowing up, man. We need to get ahead of it. You want me to draft a statement? Maybe spin it..she's a friend, someone from the team?"
George ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "No statements. No spin. Just... leave it. It'll die down."
"You sure? You know how these things snowball."
"I'm sure."
Keith sighed on the other end. "Alright, your call. But if Scarlet's team picks it up, things might get messy."
George ended the call without replying.
Scarlet.
She wouldn't like this. Their "on-screen chemistry" was something their teams were subtly pushing in the media. Any hint of another woman, especially an "extra," would disrupt that narrative. But George didn't care about PR games.
He cared about Lydia.
As he debated texting her, his phone rang. Chris.
"Hey man," George answered nervously.
"George, relax. I just spoke to Lydia," Chris said, his voice calm but firm. "She has just found out about the photos. I called her early to give her a heads-up."
George's jaw tightened. "How is she?"
"She's shaken, but she's keeping it together. I told her to stay home today, lay low. It's a Sunday anyway, no need to go out and fuel the gossip."
George exhaled sharply, his chest aching. "I never wanted this for her."
"I know," Chris said. "But she'll be fine. She's strong, George. She just needs some space. You handle the media, and let her breathe."
George agreed. "Thanks, man."
"Always."
As they hung up, George sat heavily on the edge of his bed, guilt pressing down on him. He had promised to keep Lydia out of his chaotic world, and yet here she was, dragged into it by a single dinner.
He typed out a text to Lydia.
"Sorry about the media storm. If you want to talk, I'm here."
No response.
He didn't expect one anyway. She probably didn't have his number, but he had hers. Chris had sent it two years ago, but just as he was about to use it to ask her out for coffee, he found out she was dating Jack.
***
Lydia sat curled up on her small couch, the television on but muted, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Chris had called earlier, his tone both serious and gentle as he broke the news.
"Lyds, don't panic, but you're trending."
Her heart had dropped at those words. She wasn't used to this world..the flashing cameras, the invasive headlines. Chris had told her to stay home, keep calm, and let George handle it.
So, she stayed in. But that didn't stop her mind from spiraling.
She had only exchanged a handful of words with George over the past week. Now, suddenly, people were assuming things. Assuming she was someone important in his life. If only they knew how complicated that truth really was.
Her phone vibrated. A message from a number she didn't know.
"Sorry about the media storm. If you want to talk, I'm here." She suspected it was George.
She read it, re-read it, but didn't respond. What was there to say? The world had a way of twisting simple moments into narratives that weren't theirs to tell. And now, everything at the set would change. People would look at her differently. Scarlet already did. Lydia wasn't sure she was ready for more.
She spent the day indoors, restless but resigned. She read through the articles, the tweets, and the comments. Some were kind, some cruel. By evening, the gossip began to simmer. Another scandal elsewhere was picking up steam.
Still, anxiety sat heavy in her chest. Tomorrow, they will return to the set, and everything will be different.