The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was light.
Not soft, warm sunlight. Harsh, white light — the kind that glares off your phone screen when you check it before you're ready.
It was buzzing with notifications.
56 new messages. 128 mentions.
The kind of numbers that don't happen unless something's gone horribly wrong.
I swiped, and there it was — the photo.
Me and Alex on the balcony. His hand at my waist. That gaze.
The city behind us like something out of a magazine.
Except it wasn't the skyline people were looking at.
Headline after headline scrolled past my eyes:
Alex Williams' Mystery Woman — Who Is She?
Is This the End of His Bachelor Days?
From Nowhere to the Top: The Unknown Girlfriend Steals the Spotlight
I didn't have to scroll far to find the comments.
"She's not even that pretty."
"Looks like she bought that dress at a thrift store."
"She's just another gold digger."
Each one landed like a stone in my chest. I could feel my cheeks heating even though I was alone in my apartment.
The phone rang, making me jump.
"Sarah Bennett?" The voice was clipped, professional.
"Yes?"
"This is Evelyn. Mr. Williams' assistant. He asked me to remind you — lunch at one. Black tie, media presence. Don't be late."
I blinked. "Media presence? Like… more photos?"
"Exactly. He'll brief you when he arrives."
The line went dead before I could say I wasn't sure I could survive one more headline.
---
Jenna called next, her voice exploding through the receiver. "Girl, you are EVERYWHERE. My feed is nothing but you and Alex. Oh my God, your eyes in that picture—"
"Stop," I said, pressing my palm to my forehead. "It's not like that. It's just… acting."
"Sure. Acting." I could hear her smirk through the phone. "Listen, if you don't want him, I—"
"Goodbye, Jenna." I hung up before she could finish.
I was halfway through pacing my apartment when the knock came.
I opened the door, and Alex was standing there, immaculate as ever — tailored suit, clean shave, that unreadable calm. He glanced at my hoodie and leggings once before stepping inside.
"You're not dressed," he said.
"It's ten in the morning."
His gaze was steady. "The world doesn't care what time it is. It only cares about the image you give it. And right now, you look like someone who doesn't belong in mine."
The words stung more than they should have.
---
"Why didn't you warn me?" I asked.
"About the photo?"
"Yes."
His jaw tightened slightly. "Because I needed to see how you'd handle it. Now I know."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"That you'll need to do better."
He set a black garment bag on my couch. "Put this on. We leave in thirty minutes. Today, Sarah, you stop being just my girlfriend… and start being my story."