"Boyfriend?"
"Yeah."
The producer explained, "Her current boyfriend is Stuart Townsend. He's also an actor, but he's never really broken out. The guy's insanely jealous. Every time Charlize works with another male star, he throws a fit."
Raphael listened with zero change in expression.
The producer kept going.
"We originally had a regular male model booked and he barely said anything. But now that it's you—the hottest new face in Hollywood—he's completely lost it. He screamed at Charlize and even called Dior headquarters demanding they replace you."
There was clear mockery in her smile.
"Of course we ignored him. Who the hell is he to tell Dior who they can hire?"
Raphael nodded.
"Got it."
The producer stood up.
"I'll go prep the next setup."
After she left, Raphael leaned back in his chair and glanced at Charlize sitting far away.
She was alone, holding a water bottle, staring out the window with a blank face.
Raphael didn't move.
He didn't owe her anything. No reason to go comfort her.
The second half of the shoot continued the same way.
Raphael did exactly what was asked—turned on the charm when the camera was rolling, stayed distant the second it cut.
Charlize's attitude didn't change either. Strictly professional.
To Raphael, that was perfectly fine.
By the time they wrapped the final shot, it was already seven in the evening.
Raphael changed clothes and stepped out of the makeup room.
The moment he reached the studio exit, he saw a black sedan parked at the curb.
A man climbed out.
Early thirties, decent-looking but with shady, brooding eyes.
Wrinkled shirt, messy hair—like he'd just rolled out of bed.
Stuart Townsend.
Raphael recognized him instantly.
Charlize was standing at the door talking to the producer.
The second she saw Stuart, her face changed.
Stuart marched straight over and grabbed her arm.
"Come with me."
Charlize frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"Let's go!"
Stuart's voice was sharp. "I'm taking you home."
Charlize yanked her arm free.
"I can get home by myself."
Stuart's face turned even uglier.
He glared at Raphael, eyes full of pure hostility.
"You're Raphael Lee?"
Raphael answered coolly, "Something I can help you with?"
Stuart took a step forward.
"I'm warning you—stay the fuck away from my girlfriend."
Raphael let out a cold laugh.
"You sure you want to do this right here?"
Stuart froze.
Raphael ignored him.
He walked up to Charlize, looked down at her, and said politely,
"Pleasure working with you today."
Charlize nodded.
"You too."
Raphael smiled.
Then he slid one arm around her waist and kissed her on the lips.
The kiss was light. Quick.
But clear enough for everyone to see.
Stuart's face turned beet red.
"You—"
Raphael released Charlize and gave Stuart one look.
The kind of look you'd give garbage.
That single glance snapped something inside Stuart.
Raphael turned and walked away.
As he passed Stuart, he casually patted him on the shoulder.
"Take care."
Stuart's whole body stiffened.
By the time he reacted, Raphael was already more than thirty feet away.
He started to chase after him, but suddenly doubled over in agony, clutching his stomach.
The pain came out of nowhere—like something had violently clenched inside him.
His face went deathly pale as he crouched down.
Charlize watched him with complicated eyes.
But she said nothing. She simply turned and walked back into the studio.
The next day, all of Hollywood exploded.
The paparazzi had gotten crystal-clear shots of Raphael kissing Charlize.
The images were damning—Raphael's arm around her waist, leaning in for the kiss, Charlize not resisting.
Los Angeles Times front page: Third Wheel? Raphael Lee Caught Kissing Charlize Theron Late at Night
Hollywood Reporter: Stuart Townsend Cucked? Girlfriend Stolen on Set
New York Post went even lower: From Jessica to Charlize—Raphael Lee Adds Another Name to His "Girlfriends" List
Raphael's phone started blowing up at six in the morning.
Jessica. Lima. Ambrosio. Jennifer. Even Natalie.
He didn't answer a single one.
At ten o'clock, Philip finally called.
"Rafe, what the hell did you do?"
Raphael lay on the hotel bed with his eyes closed.
"Nothing much."
"Nothing much?"
Philip's voice shot up. "Then how do you explain the photos?"
Raphael answered lazily.
"Got carried away for a second."
Once it was done, there was no point regretting it. Real men don't look back.
Philip breathed heavily for a while before sighing.
"Fine. I'm staying out of this one. Handle it yourself."
The call ended.
Raphael glanced at the missed calls.
Jessica: three. Lima: five. Ambrosio: four. Jennifer: two. Kate: one.
He sent a group text to all of them:
[Just got pissed off at an idiot. It's nothing.]
He dropped the phone and kept lying there.
At two that afternoon, Raphael boarded the flight back to Saint Vincent.
On the plane he turned his phone off and closed his eyes.
Four hours later, they landed.
The moment he stepped out of the airport, he spotted Depp waiting at the exit with a sleazy grin.
"Little blacksmith! You're back?"
Raphael walked over.
"What are you doing here?"
Depp slung an arm around his shoulders.
"Came to pick you up and see if those women had torn you to pieces yet."
Raphael rolled his eyes.
"Sorry to disappoint."
Depp burst out laughing.
They got in the car. While driving, Depp said,
"Seriously, the second that photo hit the set, the whole crew lost their minds."
Raphael leaned back in the seat.
"And?"
"And?" Depp grinned even wider. "And now everyone's taking bets on when Charlize Theron joins your little girlfriend collection."
Raphael shot the pirate a glare.
"What girlfriend collection?"
Depp snorted.
"Come on, man. Don't act innocent in front of me. Everything you're doing now, I did when I was your age."
When they got back to base, the second Raphael stepped out of the car, a bunch of crew members surrounded him with weird looks.
Some were snickering. Some were whispering. A few straight-up pulled out their phones to take pictures.
Raphael sighed.
"What the hell are you guys doing?"
A makeup girl laughed and shouted,
"We've never seen someone juggling three, four, five boats at once!"
The whole group exploded in laughter.
Raphael smirked internally. You don't even know about Jennifer yet. That'd make it six.
Back at the hotel, the moment he opened his room door, his phone rang again.
This time it was Lima.
He sighed and answered.
"Adriana."
"Raphael Lee."
Lima's voice was ice cold. "Explain the photo."
Raphael leaned against the door.
"Work."
"Work?"
Lima laughed bitterly. "Work required you to kiss her?"
Raphael gave an awkward laugh.
"Moment of impulse."
Lima laughed again, colder this time.
"Fine. Then I won't bother you."
She hung up.
Two minutes later, Ambrosio called.
"Raphael."
"Alexandra."
Ambrosio's voice was much gentler than Lima's.
"Are you okay?"
Raphael was surprised.
"I'm fine."
"Don't take what the tabloids are writing to heart."
Raphael was caught off guard.
"You're not mad?"
Ambrosio gave a soft laugh.
"Would being mad change anything?"
Raphael stayed quiet.
Ambrosio continued.
"I'll talk to Adriana. Just be careful, okay?"
"Alright."
The call ended.
Raphael had barely taken a breath when Jennifer called.
"Raphael Lee."
"Jennifer."
Jennifer's voice was calm.
"I saw the photo."
Raphael made a sound of acknowledgment.
"It looked good."
Raphael froze.
"…What?"
Jennifer laughed, but there was clear sarcasm in it.
"I said your kissing form was very handsome."
Raphael was speechless.
"Are you complimenting me or roasting me?"
"Of course I'm complimenting you."
Jennifer's tone shifted. "Charlize is a good choice. Excellent taste."
Raphael had no idea what to say.
Jennifer finished with,
"Next time you're in L.A., remember to call me."
"Okay."
She hung up.
Raphael stared at his phone and slapped his forehead.
The way she said it made it obvious—she was annoyed he hadn't contacted her while he was in L.A.
As for the little scandal itself, Jennifer clearly didn't give a damn.
Just as he was thinking that, his phone rang again.
This time it was Kate.
He answered.
"Kate."
Kate's voice carried clear amusement.
"You're back?"
"Just landed."
"Congratulations. You're now the most talked-about star for everyone who loves gossip."
"…Are you joking?"
Kate laughed even harder.
"Charlize Theron? Nice pick!"
Raphael suddenly understood the phrase "sometimes being pissed off can actually make you want to laugh" was completely true.