I woke up to a deafening silence that felt even heavier than the constant noise of the media. The private conversation with Julian from the previous night still echoed in my mind, a fragile promise of truth and vulnerability amid the chaos. But as the hours passed, that promise began to unravel beneath the relentless weight of public scrutiny.The moment I unlocked my phone, my heart sank. The headlines had grown more ferocious overnight. “Ethan Blake Admits His ‘Real Feelings’ – Is Hollywood’s Tough Guy Crumbling?” screamed one article, while another read, “Julian Chase and Ethan Blake: Behind the Lip-Sync of Love or a Real Romance in the Making?” Every new notification, every tweet, seemed to amplify the intensity of the backlash.I tried to remember the private, intimate words I had shared with Julian, the tender resolve in his eyes when he promised we’d take it one day at a time. But now, the public had twisted every moment, every whispered sentiment, into a spectacle for consumpt
I nodded, tears welling in my eyes—not from weakness, but from the raw honesty of the moment. “I’m scared of losing myself,” I admitted. “I’m scared of what people will say, that I’m not the man they expect me to be.”Julian’s gaze was unwavering as he replied, “You’re not defined by their expectations, Ethan. You’re defined by your truth. And right now, your truth is that you’re hurting, you’re confused, but you’re also brave enough to confront it.”The conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door. My heart raced as I wondered who it could be at this late hour. I opened the door to find one of our publicists—an anxious woman named Dana—standing there, eyes wide with urgency.“Ethan, Julian,” she said, breathless. “The press is gathering outside, and they’ve got a new angle. They’re saying your private conversation was leaked too.”I felt my stomach drop. “What do you mean?”Dana hesitated, glancing at Julian before continuing. “A video clip from your dressing room conve
Ethan’s POVThe PR statement went out last night.I barely slept, lying in the dark with my phone glowing beside me like a loaded weapon. Every time I opened an app—Twitter, Instagram, even the damn weather—it was flooded with our names. Ethan Blake and Julian Cross. Hashtags trending. Edits of us smiling, of us not smiling. Fan theories, think pieces, and more than a few homophobic rants that made my stomach twist.And still, no message from Julian.I sat in a room full of publicists and executives yesterday, all of them debating which angle would do the least damage to my career. It was surreal—my life, dissected and branded like a product. They released a carefully neutral statement: “Ethan Blake and Julian Cross are committed professionals with a strong working relationship and deep mutual respect. All speculation beyond that is unfounded.”A lie, wrapped in PR ribbon. Neat. Safe. Sterile.Julian didn’t show up for the meeting.I think that hurt more than anything else.Now, I’m w
Ethan’s POVBy the time I got home, the internet had turned our lives into an obsession.Not that it hadn’t been before—but this time, it wasn’t just tabloids fabricating drama or fans arguing over “feud timelines.” It was different now. Every post, every article, every photo dissected every glance we ever shared. It was real. And the worst part?They weren’t wrong.Julian and I had been slipping between the lines, between rivalry and something… deeper.I stared at my phone for ten minutes before I finally opened my messages.ETHAN:Still awake?He replied in seconds.JULIAN:Can’t sleep. Want company?I hesitated. Then:Come over.No emoji. No punctuation. Just raw.Fifteen minutes later, I heard the knock.I opened the door, and there he was—hoodie pulled up, jaw clenched, eyes exhausted but lit with something stubborn and dangerous. He stepped inside without a word, brushing past me. The air between us pulsed.“Hey,” I said, locking the door behind him.“Hey,” he echoed.We stoo
Ethan’s POVThe green room smelled like nerves and cold coffee.Julian paced behind me while I sat still, elbows on knees, palms sweaty. The makeup artist had already dabbed at our faces, tried to make us look “fresh” and “camera-ready,” but no amount of powder could hide the tension crackling in the air.The studio audience was just beyond the curtain, waiting for a show.I wasn’t sure they were ready for this kind of show.“You don’t have to say everything,” Julian said behind me, his voice tight but calm. “You don’t owe them all of you.”I turned, met his eyes in the mirror. “But if I don’t say anything, I’ll always wonder what would’ve happened if I had.”Julian walked over, leaned down until our foreheads touched. “Then I’ll be right there next to you.”The cue came.Our names were announced. Applause erupted. We walked out hand-in-hand.The lights hit us immediately—blinding, hot. The host, a silver-haired woman with decades of calm experience, smiled as she welcomed us. “Ethan
Ethan’s POV The ride back from the studio was silent—not the kind of silence that meant something was wrong, but the kind that settled over you like a soft blanket after a storm. The kind that hummed with unspoken words too tender to say aloud in front of a driver or Dana, who was sitting in the front seat still scrolling frantically through her phone, responding to emails and press requests like she was playing Whac-A-Mole with the media. Julian’s thigh was pressed lightly against mine in the backseat. Every time the car jolted over a bump, our shoulders touched. And every time, neither of us pulled away. When the car stopped in front of Julian’s place—more private, more tucked away than my glass-walled condo—he looked at me, his expression unreadable under the faint glow of the streetlamp. “You coming up?” he asked softly. There was no hesitation in my voice. “Yeah.” The door shut behind us with a quiet finality. The moment it did, the silence changed. No longer the soft,
Ethan’s POVIt was 6:12 AM when I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating against Julian’s nightstand. At first, I tried to ignore it, clinging to the warmth of the bed and the steady rhythm of his breathing next to me. But the buzzing didn’t stop.I blinked at the screen, momentarily disoriented by the dozens of notifications pouring in.Mentions. Mentions. Mentions.Trending.#JulianandEthan#SpotlightScandal#FakeorRealI groaned and rubbed my eyes, heart thumping as I scrolled through the chaos.Entertainment Weekly had already published an article: “A PR Stunt or the Real Deal? Julian Cross and Ethan Hale’s Shocking Revelation Shakes Hollywood.”TMZ was worse: “Bedroom Eyes and PR Lies: Did Two Rivals Fake a Romance for Ratings?”Julian stirred beside me, his arm brushing mine as he rolled over. “What time is it?” he mumbled, voice hoarse from sleep.“Too early,” I said, handing him my phone. “And too much.”He blinked blearily at the screen. His eyebrows furrowed. “Shit.”“Ye
Ethan’s POVThe sky was a brushstroke of lavender and burnt orange as we drove past the last city lights, the hum of Julian’s vintage convertible the only sound between us. He didn’t speak, and neither did I. But it wasn’t silence—it was a shared calm, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. After weeks of chaos, scandal, and confrontation, this—this nothingness—felt like everything.“Almost there,” Julian said quietly, his voice breaking the spell like the soft toll of a wind chime. “We’ll be safe here.”Safe. I didn’t even know what that meant anymore. Safe from the cameras? From questions? From each other?I turned my head and looked at him. His jaw was clenched, one hand tight on the steering wheel. Even in casual clothes and sunglasses pushed up on his head, he looked every bit the movie star. But beneath the strong profile, I saw the exhaustion too. We were both worn thin.“Is this your place?” I asked, finally speaking.Julian nodded. “Yeah. Bought it before the fame. Back when
Ethan’s POVReturning to set after everything that’s happened felt like walking onto a battlefield with no armor. The moment Julian and I released the joint PR statement, our names flooded every trending tag, our faces plastered on tabloid covers, and our “relationship”—God, it felt surreal calling it that—became public domain.But here, inside the studio, everything looked the same: the soft glow of the overhead lights, the bustle of crew members carrying cables and mics, the scent of strong coffee mixed with sawdust from the set build. And yet, the energy was different. Palpable. Like everyone was waiting to see what version of Ethan Cole would walk in today.I adjusted the collar of my jacket and tried to act like my palms weren’t sweaty. “Just breathe,” I whispered under my breath.“Ethan! Hey, morning!”Sarah, our assistant director, waved from across the soundstage. Her voice was bright, but her eyes flickered with curiosity. I smiled, nodded, and made my way over to the dressin
Ethan’s POVReturning to set felt like stepping into a minefield—with cameras instead of landmines and Julian looking like the one person who could either save me or blow everything sky-high.I hadn’t slept much the night before. My mind wouldn’t stop spiraling—replaying the kiss, the press conference, the whirlwind fan reaction, the supportive and the savage headlines. Hollywood’s Favorite Enemies Turn Lovers: Is It Real? one article had screamed.And today, we were back on set, filming the first emotionally charged scene between our characters since our relationship went public. The crew pretended to act normal, but I caught the way people paused mid-coffee sip when Julian and I passed by. Whispers behind makeup brushes, smirks from lighting techs.Every step I took felt heavier.“Scene thirty-four, take one. Marker.”The clap of the slate snapped me out of my head.Focus, Ethan.I stood on my mark, facing Julian. He looked effortlessly composed, which only made my pulse race harder
Ethan’s POV The meeting with the studio was set for later that afternoon, but the uncertainty that had plagued me all morning still lingered. Julian was pacing around the room, his phone pressed against his ear as he went over last-minute details for the call. His demeanor, usually confident and composed, had a tinge of anxiety in it, something I hadn’t seen before.As he hung up the phone, he let out a sigh. “It’s happening. They’re on board, but they want a commitment soon.”I nodded, though the words barely registered. The reality of this decision was setting in. It wasn’t just about signing a contract or attending a few meetings. This was going to change everything for us, whether we were ready for it or not.“How soon?” I asked, my voice low.“Tomorrow,” he replied, running his hand through his hair, frustration mounting. “They want to discuss our terms in person, sign everything by the end of the week.”That was fast. It was all moving too quickly, like we were being swept up i
Ethan’s POV The weight of the new offer hung over us, the prospect of a high-profile film bringing with it an almost dizzying array of possibilities. It was a dream project for many actors, a chance to solidify our place in the industry, but with that opportunity came a whole new set of challenges. The thought of taking on something so monumental felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, the future stretching endlessly before us.I watched Julian as he stared at the screen of his phone, the email offer from the studio still open, untouched by his fingers. His jaw was tight, his brows furrowed in concentration. I could almost see the internal battle waging within him.“You don’t have to say yes,” I murmured, leaning forward on the bed, my voice soft.Julian’s gaze flicked to me, then back to the phone. “It’s not that simple, Ethan. This could be a game-changer. For both of us.”He was right. The project was big—bigger than anything either of us had worked on before. A starring role f
Ethan’s POV The hotel room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a warm hue across the room. The city outside buzzed with its usual nightlife, but in here, the silence between us felt heavier than anything the world outside could throw at us.I sank onto the plush armchair near the window, eyes fixed on the view of the twinkling skyline. It felt surreal, being here with him—away from the chaos, away from the cameras, from the never-ending questions. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t have to be anyone but myself. I didn’t have to hide or act like everything was okay when it wasn’t.Julian stood by the minibar, popping open a bottle of water with a quiet pop. He turned to me, his dark eyes steady, unreadable. “You okay?”I nodded, my fingers grazing the edge of the chair. “Yeah, just… a lot to process.”He leaned against the counter, watching me with that usual intensity. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”The words were simple, but they hit me ha
Ethan’s POV The auditorium buzzed like a live wire.Rows of seats filled with eager fans, media reps, and industry insiders stretched to the back wall. The stage was flanked by oversized promotional banners of The Fall Between Us—Ethan as Sam, staring off into a stormy skyline; Julian as Lucas, eyes shadowed by pain and longing. They were larger than life. Now, they had to live up to that.Julian adjusted the cuff of his charcoal blazer beside me backstage, looking cool as ever in public. I wasn’t sure if it was confidence or nerves worn like armor, but either way, I envied it.I glanced down at the schedule in my lap. The panel was slotted for a full forty-five minutes of questions, clips, and what they called “spontaneous actor chemistry.” As if everything between us now could fit into a neat little marketing soundbite.“Ready?” Julian murmured beside me.I gave him a wry smile. “Define ready.”He chuckled low in his throat. “You look good.”I tried to play it cool, but that simple
Ethan’s POV There was a different kind of silence on set now.Not the kind that signaled “action” or demanded respect for the scene. This silence was thick. Watching. Measuring. Wondering.It greeted us the moment Julian and I stepped through the soundstage doors—together.The scent of coffee and paint still clung to the air, and the production crew still moved like clockwork, but every now and then, heads turned. Conversations dropped to whispers. Eyes lingered just a second too long.We were no longer just Ethan Cole and Julian Reyes—the stars of The Fall Between Us. We were a headline. A firestorm in tailored clothes. The couple.I tried to ignore it. Julian didn’t even try.“Feels like we walked into a courtroom instead of a set,” he murmured as we passed the makeup trailers.I gave a tight smile. “Jury’s still out on whether we’re the heroes or the villains.”He bumped his shoulder into mine, subtle but grounding. “Let them stare. We’ve earned it.”Despite the nerves simmering b
Ethan’s POV The official statement dropped at 9:00 a.m.By 9:01, our phones wouldn’t stop ringing.It wasn’t dramatic or flowery—just honest:“Actors Ethan Cole and Julian Reyes have shared a journey that began on-screen and extended off it. They’ve asked for privacy as they continue that journey together.”It didn’t confirm. It didn’t deny. But it said everything.For some people, it was enough. For others, it was gasoline on a fire.But I wasn’t thinking about social media when I stood on the balcony of Julian’s apartment, holding his hand while reporters shouted questions down below.I was thinking about the people we hadn’t told.My mother. His father. Our managers. Our agents. The people who shaped our lives behind the curtain of fame.The ones whose opinions still carried weight.The people who could break us if they wanted to.The first call came from my mother.Of course it did.“Ethan,” she said, her voice cool and sharp like crystal. “I saw the post.”I braced myself. “I fi
Ethan’s POV The city skyline was the same—harsh, electric, and towering—but it felt different now. After two days wrapped in Julian’s warmth and soft laughter, the buzz of Los Angeles gritted against my skin like sandpaper.We were back.And even though we’d left the cabin hand in hand, everything outside the woods came with sharp corners.Julian’s fingers still brushed mine as we exited the black car outside my building, but they didn’t hold. They didn’t cling. We were already slipping.“You want me to come up?” he asked, voice casual but eyes searching.I hesitated.I wanted to say yes. Wanted to keep pretending we could live in the moment without the past—or the future—pulling us apart. But something in the pit of my stomach turned.“I should get some sleep,” I replied, trying for a smile. “Early shoot tomorrow.”Julian nodded slowly. “Right. Of course.”A pause.“You sure you’re okay?”I hated how tender he sounded. Like he already knew the answer.“Yeah,” I said, forcing the lie