WHAT. THE. HELL.
I wasn't planning to start drama today, I swear.
Like, I woke up with good vibes.
Clear skin, sunny skies, perfect complexion.
But you know when your gut is telling you, "Girl, your boyfriend is hiding something from you," and your gut has never been wrong?
Yeah.
That was me.
This morning.
Because guess what.
When I woke up… he was still here.
As in, Cairo, in all his messy hair, shirtless, hugging-his-pillow-like-a-cinnamon-roll glory… he was in bed.
Like, snoring.
Still asleep.
So I was like, Wait a minute.
Aren't you supposed to have training? You explicitly said that we'll only see each other at night because there's a big race coming soon.
So why aren't you at training?
Why are you still here?
And why does it look like you have no plans to leave??
SUSPICIOUS.
VERY, VERY SUSPICIOUS.
So me, being the mature, calm, trusting girlfriend that I am… I panicked immediately.
Like, legitimately.
I jumped out of bed, tiptoed to my phone like I was in a spy movie, and checked the time.
8:42 AM.
HELLO? Isn't your call time for training, like, 7:00 AM?! Unless the racing schedule changed into a "Netflix and chill in Elara's bed" training module??
No. No. No.
I refuse.
I REFUSE TO BE BLINDSIDED.
I've watched too many dramas to not know the signs.
When they give an excuse, and then you catch them lying, that's step one to betrayal.
And I know it.
I feel it in my pores.
So I did what any emotionally unstable starlet would do: I stormed out.
Like, he wasn't even awake yet, but I made a full-on dramatic exit from the unit, only to… you know, enter my own unit.
It's just next door.
I don't know why I needed to be so dramatic, but of course, a theatrical walkout is mandatory.
Then, right on cue, I got a message.
AGENCY: You have an audition at 11:00 AM. Role: Ex-Girlfriend of Male Lead. Location: Viva Studio, Lot 9.
Oh my gosh.
THIS IS A SIGN.
I am literally auditioning for an ex-girlfriend role while questioning if I'm about to become one.
The universe is poetic.
Tragic.
A little bit passive-aggressive, not gonna lie.
So I took the fastest shower of my life.
I didn't even moisturize.
That's how intense it was.
And then I wore all black.
Because obviously, it's war mode.
And black is slimming—very much revenge energy.
Then I marched back to Cairo's unit.
Knock. Knock.
"Open up!" I screamed, like I was the police. "I know you're hiding something!"
He opened the door, eyes still puffy, and said in the softest voice: "Baby? What's happening?"
That "baby" triggered me.
"Oh, don't baby me!" I snapped, pushing past him. "Where were you supposed to be this morning, huh? Training? Training my foot! Why are you still here?! Who is she?! WHO IS SHE, CAIRO?!"
He blinked, still in boxers and a sleepy shirt. "Elara… I don't understand what's going on."
I pointed an accusing finger right at his face. "You said you had no time for me because you had training! But here you are, SLEEPING LIKE A PRINCE, while I'm out here doubting everything!"
"Doubting everything—wait, what?!"
"Don't play dumb with me!" I screamed again, now dramatically clutching my chest. "I'm an actress. I feel things deeply, and right now? I feel betrayed."
"Wait—baby. There is no other girl. I didn't go to training today because it's our rest day. I told you this."
"You did NOT!"
"I did, Elara. Last night. But you fell asleep while I was talking."
… Well. Okay.
So maybe there was a slight chance I did fall asleep while he was talking.
But like… was that my fault?
His chest is warm!
And comforting!
Like a heated blanket with abdominal muscles!
Still, I was on a roll.
"If you don't have another girl, then why didn't you wake me up and say goodbye?!" I threw another emotional punch.
"I was going to," he said, his eyes watering now. "But you looked so peaceful… I didn't want to wake you."
And that's when I saw it.
Oh my gosh.
He was tearing up.
My boyfriend was crying.
"Wait… are you crying?" I gasped.
He nodded, wiping his eyes. "Because I thought you trusted me."
Oh no.
That was it.
Guilt punched me right in the face.
I ran to him like I was in an indie film.
"Oh my god, no, no, no, I do, I do! I just—ugh!" I kissed him, desperately, like I was apologizing with my lips. "I love you, okay?! I'm just—ahhh! I have an audition and I needed to be emotional, and I guess I borrowed real emotions and used them for acting purposes, and now I hurt you—OH MY GOSH I'M A MONSTER!"
"You're not a monster," he mumbled, hugging me tight. "You're just dramatic."
"Thank you," I whispered. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
So he drove me to the audition.
We were still holding hands in the car while I practiced my line: "You never really loved me. You just loved the attention I gave you."
Boom.
Oscar-worthy.
Hopefully.
And then we got to the studio.
I was ready.
Like, full-on fierce.
Hair in loose waves, eyeliner sharp enough to slice egos, and a pout that said, "Don't mess with me, I've survived psychological warfare before."
The moment we stepped inside the studio, I felt it.
That... shift.
You know when you're the one supposed to shine, but somehow the universe is like, "LOL, not today, girl." THAT.
"Name?" the assistant asked.
"Elara Celestine Zulueta. For the role of—"
"Ex-girlfriend, yes. You're next."
I tossed my hair and gave them my best sweet-but-hot smile, the one I practiced in front of my vanity mirror with Beyoncé's "Irreplaceable" playing in the background, and of course, directed at Cairo.
And then came the mistake of my life.
Cairo sat beside me.
IN FULL VIEW.
In his black hoodie, messy hair, and that stupid pouty look he gets when he's sleepy but supportive.
The director looked up.
His eyes LINGERED.
"Oh?" the casting head whispered to someone beside him. "Who's that?"
I felt it in my bones.
The switch.
The danger.
The betrayal.
So I did what any normal, mentally stable girlfriend would do—I panicked and started slowly blocking Cairo's face with my handbag.
Like, gently.
Totally chill.
As in, "Oops, my tote just accidentally covered your jawline and God-tier cheekbones, sorry love."
"Ma'am, can you move your bag?" the assistant said.
"No," I said sweetly, smiling like a Disney villain in a sequined dress. "I'm emotionally attached to it."
Cairo leaned toward me. "Babe, what are you doing?"
"I'm preserving your mystery. Let them wonder."
He blinked. "Why do I feel like I'm being kidnapped?"
Then—BOOM.
Disaster.
"Excuse me?" the director called out. "You. Sir. With the sleepy eyes. Do you act?"
Cairo looked like a confused rice cooker. "Me?"
"No, the other man-shaped object sitting beside the lady auditioning for a role. YES, YOU."
I wanted to cry or throw my tote bag at someone. Preferably the director.
Or Cairo.
Or both.
"He's not here for the audition," I said quickly. "He's just my... water bottle carrier. Emotional support hoodie."
But the producers were already whispering and pointing and nodding like they had just discovered the next big leading man who happens to know how to fix a kitchen sink.
They called me in to read lines, and I swear—I was killing it.
Like, tears in my eyes, voice trembling.
I even channeled every single time my Starbucks order got messed up just to bring authentic pain into my performance.
Then I heard it. "Let's get him to read the male lead."
WHAT.
I turned my head. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you talking about Cairo? MY boyfriend? That's my boyfriend. He didn't even AUDITION."
"Exactly," the director said with this dreamy, artsy look in his eyes. "That's the energy we need. Natural. Raw. Real."
He said raw like he was ordering sushi.
And guess what?
They gave Cairo lines.
And Cairo, being the sensitive prince that he is, read them like he was reciting his grocery list with deep existential feelings.
Afterwards, they politely told me, "We're looking for a different flavor for the ex-girlfriend. Something... less spicy."
I got rejected.
My boyfriend got recruited.
I was the one who woke up early.
I was the one who put on concealer and sprayed perfume on my ankles for extra luck.
AND THIS IS WHAT I GET?
"Come on," Cairo said outside, grabbing my hand. "Let's eat. My treat."
"Do they cast people just for being tall now? Is that it?" I muttered as we walked. "Do I need to carry a wrench next time so I look relatable?"
"You were amazing," he said gently.
"Whatever," I snapped. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight."
—
We ended up in this cozy Korean restaurant with those little side dishes and hotpot, and this one banchan that looked like dried seaweed but tasted like pure betrayal.
And just when I thought the day couldn't get any worse—she appeared.
Nadine.
Of course.
Wearing this dainty little sundress like she was in a commercial for dishwashing soap and false innocence.
"Oh my gosh, Elara? Cairo? Small world!" she said, sliding into the seat beside me without even waiting for an invitation.
Rude.
Cairo blinked, startled. "Hey, Nadine. Long time."
My jaw clenched.
I could feel my eyeliner twitching.
"Oh, we were just eating," I said, fake laughing. "Just the two of us. Because we're dating. You know? Exclusively."
"I'm so glad you guys are good again," she said, smiling like a puppy with an evil corporate degree.
Then she started helping herself to the kimchi.
And that's when I lost it.
Every time she picked something up with her chopsticks, I'd reach out and take it.
Fast.
Without a single shred of shame.
She targeted the japchae? I snatched it.
She took pork belly? Gone.
She even tried to grab the gochujang sauce and I beat her to it like a ninja in high heels.
"Elara," Cairo said slowly, like he was talking to a toddler holding a loaded fork. "Are you... okay?"
"Of course," I said, smiling like a sociopath. "Just bonding. Sharing is caring. Right, Nadine?"
Nadine, to her credit, just kept smiling.
Probably used to dealing with psychopaths.
Cairo reached over and touched my hand. "Babe. You don't have to be jealous."
My soul hiccuped. "I'm not jealous," I said, way too quickly. "I'm territorial. It's different."
He laughed—that soft laugh that made my spine curl into a croissant. "You're the only one I want to eat Korean BBQ with."
"And?" I asked.
"And yell at me at auditions. And cover my face with your tote bag. And steal side dishes just to prove a point."
I dramatically wiped away a fake tear. "I love when you say romantic things like that."
Nadine, thank God, finally stood up. "Well, I gotta go. Audition in twenty minutes."
"Break a leg," I muttered. Or two.
Once she left, Cairo leaned over and kissed my forehead. "You're the main character, okay? Always."
I grinned, stuffing rice into my mouth. "Obviously. But like... let's not go to auditions together anymore."