The morning of the press conference felt like walking into a war zone.
Reporters swarmed outside the building like paparazzi piranhas, cameras flashing, voices overlapping—
> "Mr. Reid! Mr. Wilder! Are you officially dating?"
"Who confessed first?"
"Smile for the fans!"
Noah squinted through the chaos, muttering, "I should've stayed in bed…"
Ethan, calm as ever, stood beside him in a charcoal suit that screamed expensive danger.
He leaned slightly toward Noah and said under his breath,
> "Try not to look like you're being kidnapped."
"I am being kidnapped," Noah hissed. "By public humiliation."
> "Then smile while it happens."
Noah forced a grin that looked like mild electrocution.
They sat behind a long table, microphones lined up like little grenades.
Ethan spoke first, smooth and collected.
> "There have been… misunderstandings. Mr. Wilder and I are not in a romantic relationship. Our meeting was strictly professional."
Noah nodded too fast. "Yup! Totally professional! Just business! No flirting whatsoever!"
Ethan gave him a side glance that screamed shut up before you make it worse.
The reporters started whispering. One raised her hand.
> "Then how do you explain the photo of Mr. Reid smiling at Mr. Wilder?"
Ethan's jaw tightened. "That was… situational."
Noah blurted, "He has a great smile—uh, I mean, situation!"
Ethan closed his eyes briefly. "You're not helping."
> SYSTEM: "Embarrassment level: catastrophic.
After the conference, Noah escaped outside for air, heart racing. "Okay, that wasn't too bad," he muttered.
Then the system pinged.
> SYSTEM: "Incoming plot event detected: Accident Scene — Target: Ethan Reid."
"What?!" Noah gasped. "No, no, no, not today—"
He spun around and saw it — a delivery truck barreling toward the curb, brakes screeching. Ethan had just stepped out of the building, checking his phone, oblivious.
Noah didn't think. He ran.
"ETHAN!" he shouted, lunging forward.
He grabbed Ethan's arm and yanked him back just as the truck skidded past, missing them by inches.
The impact threw them both to the ground — Noah half on top of Ethan, heart hammering.
For a second, the world went silent.
Then Ethan's voice, low and startled:
> "...You okay?"
Noah blinked down at him. "You—you almost got hit! You should be asking yourself that!"
Ethan's hand came up, steadying him by the shoulder. His usual composure was gone, replaced by something raw — genuine worry.
> "You could've been killed," he said quietly.
Noah laughed shakily. "Well, at least I'd die a hero instead of a meme."
That earned him a breath of laughter — real, soft, unguarded.
Then Ethan's gaze shifted, their eyes locking.
Too close.
Too intense.
Too much.
Noah felt his pulse jump. "Uh… we should… move."
Ethan didn't.
> "You really are impossible," he murmured.
"Yeah," Noah said softly. "But you didn't seem to mind just now."
A pause. Ethan's hand lingered one second longer before he stood, brushing dust off his suit.
> "Come by my office later. We need to talk."
Noah walked in nervously, half-expecting to be yelled at. Instead, Ethan poured two glasses of water and handed him one.
> "You saved my life," Ethan said simply.
Noah shrugged. "You'd have done the same."
> "No, I wouldn't have been stupid enough to jump in front of a truck."
"Aw, so you do think I'm stupid. That's practically affection coming from you."
Ethan almost smiled.
> "Don't push it."
But there was warmth in his voice this time — subtle, real.
> "Still," he added, "I owe you."
Noah's grin returned. "I'll take my payment in coffee and compliments."
> "You'll get one of those."
Noah lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His heart was still doing weird flips.
> SYSTEM: "Warning. Emotional attachment detected."
"Shut up," Noah whispered.
> SYSTEM: "Plot deviation: maximum. Reality at 49%."
"Then reality better learn to deal with it," he said softly. "Because I think I'm falling for him."