"..."

I almost spilled my tea everywhere.

Because the woman in front of me, claiming to be Jake's girlfriend, was none other than Hollywood's hottest rising star.

The kind who gets millions of likes on Instagram.

Someone I'd only ever seen on screen was now standing right in front of me, flashing a friendly smile.

"Jake talks about you all the time. You're his childhood friend, right?"

"I..."

She stepped closer, and I realized she'd backed me into a dimly lit corner of the break room.

"I'm Aria Stone - though you probably know my name. Look, I came here today mainly to tell you..."

"Could you stay away from Jake?"

"..."

I froze.

She came all this way just to tell me to stay away from Jake?

Was this a threat? A warning? Marking her territory?

So she really was dating Jake? She actually liked him?

Someone who existed in a completely different world from us regular people - she actually had feelings for Jake?

My heart did this weird flip thing. I stood there, overwhelmed by how surreal this felt.

She let out a soft laugh. "You look like you want to say something?"

I took a deep breath.

She seemed pleased by my obvious discomfort.

I stared at her, carefully choosing my next words.

"Could I..."

"Could I get your autograph?"

—

I lay in bed, flipping the autographed photo over and over.

Celebrity signatures were always fancy, and Aria's was no exception.

I still couldn't wrap my head around it - Jake had a girlfriend, and not just any girlfriend, but a movie star.

It made sense, really. Jake belonged to that elite world. He was probably exactly the kind of guy celebrities hoped to date.

But just days ago, we were sitting at my dining table, drinking beer together.

This weird emptiness crept over me out of nowhere.

I'd thought Jake was part of my world, but he really wasn't.

He'd even gotten a girlfriend behind my back, while I'd been stupidly convinced he'd never dated anyone.

Turns out I was the real clown, performing a one-woman show for an empty theater.

I nearly wore out my phone screen, still unable to send him a single text.

I typed out so many messages, only to delete them all.

It was strange - why was this so hard? I should just say "Why didn't you tell me you had a girlfriend?" But somehow, I couldn't type the words.

Jake was dating someone behind my back.

The absolute nerve of him.

I stared at the unfinished beer from last time, and before I knew it, I'd grabbed a bottle and headed out the door.

—

Dogs barked somewhere in the dark streets.

Scattered streetlights lit the path ahead while the occasional passerby hurried past.

My heart was pounding.

I couldn't explain this weird rush of adrenaline or how to calm it down. The park near my apartment was empty now, all the kids long gone.

I sat alone on the swing.

A pale moon hung in the night sky.

Until a pair of black leather oxfords appeared in my view.

I looked up, stunned to see a man in a trench coat, hands in his pockets, standing in front of me.

Honestly, what were the odds?

Running into two celebrities in one day.

Finally found a coffee shop that was still open at this ungodly hour. I wrapped my cold hands around the cup, desperate for some warmth.

And of course - because the universe hates me - it was a freaking iced Americano. How wonderful.

Across from me sat a man in gold-rimmed glasses, sharp features, leaning back in his chair with casual confidence. His bedroom eyes glanced over me.

"Be my girlfriend."

...he said.

"..."

I nearly choked on my coffee.

A complete stranger, asking me out? What kind of weird luck was this?

And not just any stranger - but another celebrity.

Marcus Wright, the famous director and investor. I'd seen him in magazines, taking up full-page spreads.