Summer's POV
By the time the next episode aired, the internet had lost its collective mind.
Her phone (well, the one the producers let them check between shoots) was exploding with notifications:
> #SummerAndLiam trending worldwide
"That wrist grab was cinematic perfection."
"Poor Ethan looks like he's dying inside 💀💔"
Summer groaned, shoving the phone at the crew. "Delete Twitter. Delete me."
The host only laughed. "Honey, you're viral. The audience loves your chemistry!"
"With Liam?" she said, horrified.
"Who else?"
She glanced toward the campfire, where Ethan sat sharpening a stick with unnecessary violence.
"Yeah," she muttered. "Who else."
---
Later, while setting up props for the next segment, Liam strolled over. "So, we're officially the internet's new power duo."
"Don't remind me."
He grinned. "Jealousy looks good on Reid though."
She shot him a look. "He's not jealous."
Liam smirked. "You sure about that?"
Summer didn't answer. Because she wasn't sure.
---
Ethan's POV
He told himself he didn't care. Over and over.
"Liam and Summer are trending," Ava said casually, scrolling through the producer's tablet. "They're calling it 'Sunlight Couple.'"
Ethan shrugged. "Good for them."
"Uh-huh," Ava said, unimpressed. "You're totally fine."
"I am fine."
"You're carving that stick like it owes you money."
He dropped it. "I just—don't like fake storylines."
Ava smirked. "You mean other fake storylines that don't star you?"
He glared. "You're very observant."
"Comes with experience," she said, then softened. "Look, if you still care about her, maybe stop pretending you don't."
He exhaled slowly. "I'm not pretending."
But even he could hear how unconvincing that sounded.
---
Summer's POV
That afternoon, the production team called for individual interviews—"reaction shots" for the latest broadcast.
Summer sat in front of the camera, mic clipped to her shirt.
"Summer," the producer said sweetly, "how do you feel about the viewers loving your chemistry with Liam?"
"I feel… mildly terrified," she said.
"Do you think Ethan might be jealous?"
She blinked. "Why would he be?"
A pause. A knowing smile from the producer. "Because the camera doesn't lie."
Summer laughed awkwardly. "Then the camera needs new glasses."
But later, when she walked out of the tent, she saw Ethan being interviewed across the set. He was relaxed—or pretending to be.
"Ethan," the interviewer asked, "how do you feel about Summer and Liam's partnership?"
He smiled. "They make a good team."
Her stomach dropped. He said it too easily. Too practiced.
When the interviewer asked, "And you don't mind the online rumors?"
Ethan leaned back, that charming grin fixed in place. "It's a show. People can ship whoever they want. I've moved on."
The words hit harder than she expected.
She told herself it didn't matter. But the tiny ache in her chest disagreed.
---
Ethan's POV
He'd nailed the interview. Smooth, calm, believable.
Too believable, apparently.
Because that night, when the episode aired live, social media went feral again.
> "Ethan says he's over her?? Lies!!"
"Bro's fighting for his life pretending to be chill."
"The way he looked at her during Liam's scene 😭😭😭"
He scrolled through comments until Ava snatched the tablet away.
"Stop torturing yourself," she said.
"I'm just checking the feedback."
"You're checking her name."
He opened his mouth to argue, then shut it.
She sighed. "You still like her."
"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "I know."
---
Summer's POV
The next morning, she found him sitting near the shore, alone again.
Always near the water. Always pretending he was fine.
"Hey," she said softly. "You handled that interview well."
He smirked. "So did you."
"Thanks. I only died inside twice."
He chuckled, eyes softening. "Guess we're both getting good at pretending."
She hesitated. "When you said you moved on…"
He looked up. "Yeah?"
"Did you mean it?"
A long pause. Waves rolled in, filling the silence between them.
Finally, he said, "I thought I did."
Her breath caught.
"But every time I see you with him…" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "It doesn't feel like moving on."
She didn't know what to say. So she sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched.
The air smelled of salt and smoke, the world suddenly too quiet.
"You're impossible," she murmured.
He smiled faintly. "Yeah. We both are."
They sat there in silence—two people pretending not to fall back into something they'd never really left.