The studio lights were blinding, a sharp contrast to the dim, heavy atmosphere of the night before. Sayna stood in the shadows behind the monitors, her fingers tracing the strap of her kit.
On the velvet set, Tian had his arm draped possessively around Zhang Xi's waist. He looked every bit the heartthrob the world adored-cold, untouchable, and perfect.
"They look like a match made in heaven," YueYue whispered, checking the digital previews.
Sayna swallowed hard. Just hours ago, those same hands had been trembling against her.
Now, they were steady as a rock as he tilted Zhang Xi's chin up for the lens. To him, the night was a mistake to be erased. To her, every click of the camera felt like a reminder of how easily he could replace her presence with a performance.
As the shutter clicked, Zhang Xi stood on her tiptoes, whispering something into Tian's ear that made her giggle. Sayna watched from the shadows, her breath hitching as Tian's hand slid down, gripping Zhang Xi's waist with a sudden, possessive force that pulled their bodies flush together.
A dull ache throbbed in Sayna's chest. Is this what I am? she wondered, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her makeup sponge.
Just another obsessed fan crying because her idol is with a girl?
But the sting wasn't the jealousy of a stranger.
It was the heat of his skin that she could still feel on her own palms. It was the way he had looked at her in the dark-wild and undone-compared to the cold, calculated way he was holding Zhang Xi now.
To the world, he was a God. To the stalkers, he was a prize. But to Sayna, he was a man who had asked for her help and then demanded she vanish from his memory the moment the sun rose. She wasn't upset because she wanted to own him; she was upset because he was treating their shared moment like a smudge of foundation he could just wipe away.
The air in the studio was already thick with the smell of hairspray and expensive perfume, but suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. A group of lighting assistants huddled near the monitors, whispering frantically in Mandarin.
YueYue leaned in, her eyes widening behind her glasses. She let out a sharp, audible gasp, her hand flying to her mouth.
"YueYue? What is it?" Sayna asked, her heart hammering against her ribs. The humid Kolkata girl in her felt a sudden, icy chill that had nothing to do with the studio's air conditioning. "What are they saying?"
YueYue looked at Sayna, then back at Tian, who was still holding Zhang Xi for the camera—his grip on her waist looking even more possessive now in light of the gossip.
"They're saying..." YueYue lowered her voice to a terrified whisper. "They're saying that when Tian-ge left the wrap party early last night... he wasn't alone. Someone saw Zhang Xi entering his private apartment building around 3 AM. They say she didn't leave until dawn."
The makeup kit in Sayna's hand felt like it weighed a hundred kilos.
3 AM? At 3 AM,after dropping Sayna to her house, he spent his night with Zhang xi!!!!!
Sayna looked at Tian. He didn't flinch. He didn't look guilty. He just looked... professional.
The director calls "Cut!" for a light change. Sayna has to walk onto that set, in front of the cameras, and fix the makeup on the face of the man who just broke her heart
The director's voice echoed through the studio, but Sayna barely heard it. Her mind was stuck on the timeline. 1:00 AM... he was with her, trembling, needing her. 2:15 AM... she was in her bed, her heart racing as she thought of his touch. And by 3:00 AM... Zhang Xi was at his door.
"Sayna? Touch-up for Tian-ge!" YueYue nudged her.
Sayna moved like a robot. She stepped onto the platform, her feet feeling heavy. Tian was still standing close to Zhang Xi, their chemistry palpable. As Sayna approached, he didn't even look at her. He just tilted his head back slightly, offering his jawline for her brush.
Her hand, usually so steady, had a slight tremor. She could see the faint remains of the flush she had helped create earlier that morning.
"Forget all about it," he had said.
Now it made sense. He wasn't protecting her reputation; he was protecting his night with Zhang Xi. Sayna felt like a "buffer"—a temporary fix for a man who couldn't wait for the real thing. To him, she was just the help. To her, he was the idol she had worshipped from a bedroom in Kolkata, and the man she thought she had finally seen.
She leaned in, her face inches from his. She could smell his cologne, mixed with the floral scent of Zhang Xi's perfume.
"Your foundation is cracking," she whispered, her voice tight and professional, though her heart felt like it was being squeezed by a cold hand.
Tian's eyes snapped open. For a split second, the "Star" mask slipped, and he looked at her. He saw the hurt in her eyes, the way her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth to stop it from shaking. But he didn't apologize. He just closed his eyes again, dismissing her.
Sayna retreated to the safety of the equipment crates, her thumbs flying over her phone screen.
Sayna sighed, the humid air of the studio suddenly feeling heavy. She looked up just as a senior lighting technician walked toward her. He was a stern-looking man who hadn't smiled all day, but now he was pointing a calloused finger toward the monitors where Tian's face was blown up in high definition.
"The nose..." the man said, struggling with the English words. "Makeup... too good. You good!" He gave her a thumbs-up, his eyes crinkling with genuine respect for her craft.
For a second, the heavy weight in Sayna's chest lifted. She let out a small, startled laugh-the first real one since she'd arrived that morning.
Shenodded her head, her eyes instinctively drifting toward the set.
Tian was mid-pose, his profile sharp and lethal under the lights. Sayna's hands had done that.
She had highlighted the bridge, shaded the sides, and made him look like a literal god for the camera.
It's the best thing that's happened today, she thought.
As she nodded to the technician, she caught Tian's gaze through the camera lens. He had
heard the praise. He saw her laughing. For a split second, his stoic expression wavered-was it guilt? Or was he surprised that she could still find joy after he had been so cruel?
Tian's POV:
The studio lights were a familiar cage. I stood there, letting the photographer dictate my every move, while Zhang Xi leaned in, her perfume a sharp, floral scent that didn't soothe me the way the humid, natural scent of her had last night.
"I went to your apartment building last night to meet my boyfriend," Zhang Xi whispered against my ear, her voice barely audible over the music. "I thought about saying hi, but by the time I was leaving, it was too late to greet you. Nearly 3 AM."
I let out a non-committal hum. My heart, usually a steady machine during shoots, gave a traitorous thud.
"What happened?" Zhang Xi laughed, pulling back just enough to look at me. "You look weirder than usual. Did something happen last night?"
The memory hit me like a physical blow. The dim light of the room. The way Sayna's hands had trembled, then turned steady. The way I had completely lost my composure—the very thing I had spent years building. I remembered the heat, the sound of her breath, and the way I had let myself go while her image burned behind my eyelids.
And then, the morning. The way I had looked at her—the girl who had seen me at my most vulnerable—and told her to forget it. I had been cruel because I was terrified.
Shit. My jaw stiffened, the muscles locking into a hard line. I felt the camera's lens tracking me, the staff watching. I couldn't let them see. I couldn't let her see.
I reached out, my hand acting on instinct, and grabbed Zhang Xi's waist, pulling her flush against me. It was a shield. A distraction.
"Hang on," I whispered to myself, the words a silent command to my racing heart. "Don't be obvious. Don't let them know something happened."
But through the corner of my eye, I saw her. Sayna. She was standing with the staff, her face pale. I felt a surge of something dark and bitter in my throat. I had wanted to protect my image, but looking at the hurt in her eyes, I realized I was just a coward hiding behind a beautiful actress.
The camera's flash was rhythmic, like a heartbeat I couldn't control. I kept my arm locked around Zhang Xi's waist, my body performing the "ideal star" role, but my mind was a storm.
Then, I saw it.
Through the blur of the studio lights, I caught a glimpse of a senior staff member pointing directly at me. He was leaning in close to Sayna, his expression intense. Sayna wasn't looking away—she was nodding. She even let out a small, breathless laugh.
My blood turned to ice.
A few feet away, two other assistants were huddled together, their eyes darting from me to her. The whispers reached me like a dull hum, but one phrase sliced through the noise like a blade:
"...Yes, yes... last night... they were together..."
The color drained from my face so fast I felt lightheaded. My grip on Zhang Xi tightened—not out of passion, but out of sheer, cold terror.
She told them. The girl I thought was shy, the girl from Kolkata who looked at me with those wide, honest eyes... she had gone straight to the crew. She was nodding along while they discussed my lack of control. She was laughing. Was she mocking me? Was she telling them how I looked when I crumbled?
I had told her to forget it. I had been firm. But now, it felt like the walls were closing in. Every person in this room wasn't looking at my "professionalism"—they were looking at a scandal. They were looking at the man who couldn't even handle a single night without breaking his own rules.
"Don't be obvious," I commanded myself again, but my hand was shaking against Zhang Xi's silk dress. I looked at Sayna again. She looked so innocent, nodding her head as if she hadn't just ruined my reputation.
I wanted to storm over there. I wanted to grab her by the wrist and drag her into the dressing room until she admitted what she'd said. But I was trapped under the lights, a prisoner of my own fame, watching my world catch fire while she smiled.
Tiana pov ended———-
Sayna's pov
"Cut! Great job, everyone!" The director's voice was a signal of mercy.
I didn't wait. I didn't look at YueYue or check my makeup kit. I just turned and ran. My chest felt like it was full of hot Kolkata lead.
After splashing my face with water, I stared at my reflection. My eyes were red-rimmed, but my makeup—the work I was so proud of—was still perfect. I took a deep breath, trying to push down the image of him holding Zhang Xi. It's just a job, Sayna. You're a professional. Don't be a cliché.
I stepped out into the quiet service corridor, heading back toward the set. But I never made it.
A blur of movement came from the shadows. Before I could even gasp, a hand clamped around my wrist. The grip wasn't just firm—it was desperate, bordering on painful. I felt the bite of his fingers against my skin as he yanked me backward.
"Hey—!"
The word died in my throat as I was shoved into a narrow, dark alcove between two equipment crates. The impact wasn't enough to bruise, but the force of the shake made my head snap back against the wall.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I opened my mouth to scream, my lungs filling with air, but then the dim light caught the sharp line of a jaw I knew by heart.
The dark, heavy brows. The eyes that were usually cold as ice, now burning with a terrifying, frantic fire.
"Tian?" I whispered, my voice trembling.