To the outside world, Ashtine and Andres was still perfect.
The couple who built tension in a glance. The leads of two beloved dramas. The chemistry. The giggles. The stares. The matching flower posts. The edits that made you feel like love was real.
To the fans, they were thriving.
Because they smiled in photos.
Because they liked each other's posts.
Because they were still tagged together in every fan-made video.
But behind the curtain?
Silence.
—
A week had passed since Andres' birthday. Ashtine hadn't reached out. He hadn't either.
And now they were scheduled to appear—together—at an awards night.
The showrunners had insisted. The series they filmed was up for multiple nominations. One scene had even gone viral. The one where she touched his face and whispered the flower metaphor.
"Some flowers bloom quietly... and some loudly. But roses? They bloom for someone."
Everyone loved that line.
Everyone assumed it was about him.
The irony was cruel.
—
Backstage, they sat beside eachother in the dressing room but neither looked at the other. Both felt the weight of it. Hair stylists and makeup artists moved around them, keeping the mood light.
Someone played a viral edit of them on the screen above.
"You two really made magic on screen," someone commented.
Ashtine smiled faintly.
Andres nodded.
Neither said anything.
They were both too good at pretending now.
—
Onstage, the lights were warm. Cameras pointed. Fans screamed.
Andres walked beside her, just as he always had, with the distance of a bodyguard and the stiffness of a statue.
Their hands didn't brush.
Their shoulders didn't touch.
The energy was different now—but most people didn't notice.
Because they knew how to perform.
They were trained to perform.
When the interviewer asked them what it felt like to work together again, they both smiled like pros.
"It's always easy with Andres," Ashtine said. Her voice didn't crack. Her smile didn't waver.
Andres chuckled beside her. "She's just saying that because we got the most retakes."
Everyone laughed.
And for a second, it almost felt normal.
But their eyes never truly met.
Not the way they used to.
—
Later, when they were offstage, Ashtine sat on a bench in her heels, exhausted. She watched fans online post their photos, their smiles. One account captioned it:
"Ashdres supremacy never ends."
She blinked.
And wondered why that hurt.
Because the world believed they were okay.
But only they knew the truth:
They weren't acting anymore… they were surviving.
Pretending.
Avoiding.
They didn't hold hands. They didn't talk off stage. They didn't stay behind to laugh over bloopers.
But no one noticed.
Because they were good at faking fine.
Because their fans were in love with a version of them that no longer existed.
Because sometimes the saddest thing is when the world ships you harder than you can hold yourself together.
And still...
They smiled.
And let them believe it was real.