Bentley's POV
Walking back with Mia after work was one of the things I loved about Fridays. I told her about my progress—I think I've covered everything there is about it.

She grinned, squealing through her teeth. "You're gonna let him next time he makes a move?"

"Yes," I answered, a smile tugging at my lips.

She giggled, giving my shoulder a nudge. Glancing at the sun peeking behind golden clouds, she let out a long sigh. "I can't wait to graduate." Mia turned to me. "Did I tell you I'd be working here part-time until my break's over?"

My eyes widened. "Really? You'll work at Breakfast Delight?"

She nodded. "Mrs. Holly agreed to it. Besides, I spend a lot of time there, so I might as well work for some extra cash."

"That's great! You didn't tell me you could cook!"

She raised an eyebrow, pausing. "Uh... I can't," Mia replied, flinging an arm around my shoulders.

"I'll be the sexy waitress in a cute dress, serving food to the customers. Then one day, a hot customer—who turns out to be a mafia king—will fall for me. That'll be the beginning of my dangerous love," she summarized, waving her hand in the air, envisioning her fantasies.

On the outside, anyone would mistake Mia for an edgy emo girl obsessed with gadgets, but when you get to know her, you'd realize that's just her style.

I shook my head, laughing. "Okay, good luck with that."

***

I stepped into the house, glancing around for Damian; he wasn't back yet.

I prepared carbonara for dinner. I had just finished eating when my phone began to blow up with notifications. Although the Wi-Fi was on, it was strange because I had muted YouTube notifications and hadn't uploaded a new video yet.

I picked up my phone, and it unlocked with my Face ID. "Whoa," I whispered, eyes widening at the millions of notifications from Instagram—of follows, likes, and mostly direct messages.

My gaze narrowed to a notification from the news app—the one I never opened. It was a photo of Damian, with mine next to his. My mouth fell open as I read the headline: "Damian Giovanni dating YouTube rising star, Bentley Kai."

My face paled, frozen on the spot. "No, no, no, no," I muttered, calling Damian with shaky hands.

"Hey—"

"Damian! Damian, have you seen the news? It's everywhere! My phone is blowing up, and—"

"Bentley, you're trembling," he cut in. "Breathe. Take a deep breath."

I closed my eyes, deeply inhaling and exhaling until I was calm.

His voice came through. "Now, talk to me."

"Rumors about our relationship are in the news."

"What!" he yelled, taking a short pause. "Don't panic. I'll take care of this. Just... stay home."

"I'm here," I replied.

"Good. I'll be back soon. Bye," he said, hanging up.

I fell onto the couch, a long breath slipping between my lips. I lay down, trying to force myself to sleep when intrusive thoughts invaded my headspace. This is bad—very bad. If my parents see the news, I'm dead. What would I say to them? I know, I'll just say he's a friend and all of this is a big misunderstanding.

I grunted, slapping my head. They wouldn't believe me; I don't even have a place to live. I gasped, remembering I had yet to pay for the house.

I was so caught up with personal research that I forgot about it—or maybe it was because a part of me didn't want to imagine leaving this place. I wanted to keep spending time with Damian.

But this is reality, and in real life, an adult needs a home. I quickly opened the website, clicked the "buy now" button, and made my purchase. That's one out of two problems solved.

***

Damian's POV
I opened my browser, and before I finished typing my name, what I was searching for popped up. Clicking it, I scrolled through the infinite number of websites where it had been published.

"Who on earth has the nerve to pry on my private life?" I said rhetorically. I froze, wide-eyed, the veins in my head pulsing as anger seared in my blood.

"Dominic," I muttered through gritted teeth.

"Emma!" I called.

"Yes, sir!" she answered from behind.

"I need those articles down within twenty-four hours."

"The trending ones about your relationship?"

"Of course! What else would I be referring to?" I snapped.

She flinched. "Got it, sir."

I dialed his number, and he picked up. "Hello, brother," he emphasized, and I could hear his smug smile over the phone.

I took a breath, suppressing my anger before speaking. "Why?"

"What's 'why'? I have the slightest idea of what you're saying."

"Oh, for fuck sake, stop fooling around! Why did you publish those articles?"

"Hey, isn't it great? You don't have to hide anymore. You get to go on dates, hold hands, and kiss your man in public."

"No one asked for your help, okay? Why can't you mind your damn business?" I shouted, pausing. "It's time for you to make some friends and get a life, don't you think? Stop ruining mine."

For the first time, he had nothing to say. Since we were kids, he never had a friend because he was too busy annoying the hell out of me—he kept doing that like it was his purpose in life.

I almost got to him, but then he replied, "Aren't you curious?"

My eyebrows creased as if he'd spoken a different language. "About what?"

"Your boyfriend. How's he taking it? Is he happy or terrified about the news?"

"Why are you bringing him into this?" I said, my facial muscles tensing and my voice lowering to a deadly whisper. "This is your last warning. The next time you drag my man into a conversation, I'm going to rip your limbs off."

He paused for a moment, then let out a stiffened laugh. "I'm kidding, you're kidding, we're all kidding, right?"

"Take down those articles. This is not a request; it's an order."

"Last question—pardon me for this one. If Bentley were in your shoes, would he go this length for you? The last time I heard, he was quite the homophobe. Do you think he’s changed?" he continued. "Now that the articles are out, would he be okay with carrying the 'gay' tag with you?"

Taken aback by his question, I pressed my lips into a thin line for a moment. Those questions raised a lot more in my head. I know Bentley wanted to keep things private because he hates public attention, but... is it possible he's ashamed of me... of us? No! That’s not right; he loves me, he loves us.

I answered. "He would—"

"Why don't you test him if you're so sure?" Dominic chimed in.

Author's note:
Tests... scary.

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