The world never forgot her.
Ariel found that out the moment she stepped out of the apartment the next morning.
Fans gathered at the studio gates, holding signs, shouting names, phones raised. Cameras flashed. Some smiled. Some scowled. And some… whispered things meant to cut deeper than any headline.
Her hand brushed Jaxon's as they walked toward the car. He didn't flinch, but she felt the weight of a thousand eyes pressing down, as if she had no right to exist.
Inside the car, Mr. Han was already going over the morning schedule.
"She's gaining attention too fast," he said. "We need to control the narrative before it spirals."
Ariel froze.
"You mean… me?"
"Yes. You."
Jaxon's gaze flicked toward her. He said nothing, but the faint tightening of his jaw said more than words ever could.
"You're not the problem," he said finally. "They are."
The first confrontation came during a live broadcast.
The host, cheerful as ever, leaned forward. "Jaxon, fans are curious about your 'mystery partner.' Can you tell us more?"
Ariel's stomach sank. She swallowed, hoping the contract would be enough.
"Some things are private," Jaxon replied smoothly, placing a hand over hers—light, steady, protective.
The cameras zoomed in. The fans reacted instantly. Some cheered. Some jeered. Social media exploded before the segment even ended.
By the time they left, comments were flooding every screen:
She doesn't belong.
She's a distraction.
Jaxon should be alone.
Who even is she?
Ariel's hands shook as she scrolled through them.
"This… this is insane," she muttered.
Jaxon leaned back, eyes dark. "This is only the beginning."
Later, alone in the car, a new message appeared on her phone.
Leave him alone. You'll regret this.
Ariel's fingers hovered over the screen. She didn't know who sent it, but the threat was clear.
Jaxon noticed her expression.
"Ignore them," he said. "They don't matter. Not yet."
"But they could," she whispered. "I didn't sign up for this."
"You did," he corrected softly. "Whether you like it or not, you're part of this world now. And they'll never let you leave quietly."
That night, Ariel returned to the apartment shaken.
She found Jaxon sitting at the balcony, staring at the city.
"They're already turning on me," she admitted quietly.
He didn't turn. "Not on you. On us."
She looked up. "Us?"
He finally met her gaze. "The world doesn't care about contracts. It only cares about stories. And right now… they're rewriting ours."
For the first time, Ariel realized just how fragile her borrowed fame really was.
The city lights below didn't promise safety.
They promised scrutiny.
And the shadows were already closing in.