The Superstar's Accidental Confession

[I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?]

That was the message I got from the biggest A-list star in the countryand I completely missed it.

An hour later, he sent another:

[Oh god, I swear I didn't send that last one. My damn brother grabbed my phone!]

[Don't get the wrong idea.]

[Seriously, don't overthink it.]

[We're still friends, right?]

[Can you please not tell anyone?]

Early the next morning, I stared at the trending topics on Twitter, my thumb hovering frozen over the screen.

Chapter 1

The world had flipped upside down the second I woke up and unlocked my phone. Half-asleep, I saw the dozen back-to-back missed calls from Nadine. My heart skipped a beat, and I bolted upright in bed.

My brain immediately went into overdrive, desperately scrolling through everything I had done recently. I racked my brain but couldn't think of a single thing that warranted this kind of life-or-death harassment.

Before calling her back, I purposefully checked the trending tags. Nothing about me.

Cade, on the other hand, was dominating the top five spots. It was only then that my sleep-addled brain registered the string of unread messages from him sitting in my inbox.

I switched over to the app, tapped his name, and the ground practically fell out from under me.

At 10:10 PM last night, he had sent:

[I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?]

I had actually gone to bed early for once in my life, missing the entire wreck. An hour later, he followed up:

[Oh god, I swear I didn't send that last one. My damn brother grabbed my phone!]

[Don't get the wrong idea.]

[Seriously, don't overthink it.]

[We're still friends, right?]

[Can you please not tell anyone?]

Every single word practically bled with his fragile, shattered ego. And because of my rare decision to get a full eight hours of sleep, I had missed the entire show. Apparently, a heartbroken Cade had meant to log into his burner account to vent his misery. But in his devastation, he accidentally posted it to his main account.

Congratulations to him on his shiny new trending tag: [Cade The Clown].

[The biggest joker in the deck.]

[Begs her not to tell anyone, then immediately posts it on his main for the whole world to see. Brilliant.]

[Cade: the absolute gold standard for clowns, the biggest loser on the dating market, and the brightest star of the circus.]

[Some of us are laughing at the joke, while the rest of us are staring into a mirror.]

[A regular guy failing at love warms my heart. Cade failing at love will keep me warm for the rest of my life.]

[Guess why I'm not laughing? Because I've been there.]

The sheer ruthless poetry of the internet left me both in awe and shivering in fear. Thank God Cade had saved my contact name as just a single heart emoji. The entire internet knew he got rejected, but nobody knew I was the one who allegedly did it. Well, nobody except Nadine.

My profile picture was a landscape shot I took myself. She recognized it instantly. Once she confirmed over the phone that I had never posted that picture publicly, she let out a massive sigh of relief. She might be breathing easier, but I was still suffocating.

Cade had dumped all of this on me, and my mind went blank on how to respond. I spent half the morning agonizing over a text, finally deciding to just explain what happened.

I hit send, only to be met with a glaring red exclamation mark. Message failed.

He blocked me.

Oh, okay. So that's how we're playing this.

To make matters worse, Cade deliberately posted a new update:

[I blocked her. Now she can never break my heart again.]

Seriously? How did he manage to write an entire tragic movie script in his head entirely by himself?

Looking at the absolute wreckage online, the only people having a worse day than Cade right now had to be his PR team. I could easily imagine Nadine shattering glass with a supersonic scream if I had pulled a stunt like this.

The hashtag dominated the internet all day. By late afternoon, the heat had finally started to die down. Just as I felt my muscles un-tensing, Chloe, an up-and-coming actress who recently worked with Cade, decided to drop a post. No caption.

Just a single landscape photo.

And if you didn't look too closely, that photo looked exactly like my profile picture.

Chapter 2

Passersby immediately started speculating that Chloe was the girl who rejected Cade. Cades fans saw this and went completely nuclear online.

[? Posting this right now? Hard not to see this as a desperate clout-chasing grab.]

[Wait, even if it WAS you, you already rejected Cade. Whats the point of posting this now?]

[What is she doing? Can you be any more brainless while begging for attention?]

[What does one photo prove? I have a million landscape shots like this on my phone. Guess Cade is in love with me too then.]

The timeline turned into an absolute bloodbath. Chloe must have realized the backlash was going to swallow her whole, because she deleted the post less than five minutes later.

Meanwhile, the actual main character of this entire circusmewas safely out of the blast zone, aggressively eating up the drama.

Watching the heat rise to a boiling point, Cade's PR team finally stepped in, throwing cash at the platforms to scrub the trending tags and kill the story. Logically, things should have just faded away after a few days.

The fatal problem? I was scheduled to film a reality show with Cade the very next day.

The twisting in my stomach finally flatlined into a cold lead weight.

From the second I got into the van until the moment we arrived, Nadine hammered into me that I needed to avoid Cade at all costs. Zero eye contact, zero interaction.

Naturally, the exact second I pulled the van door open, I locked eyes with Cade. He had massive dark sunglasses shoved on his face, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles jumped.

I couldn't see his eyes behind the dark lenses, but the visible drop in his shoulders the second he saw me told me everything. He broke the stare first, picking up his pace to storm past me toward the studio, only to get instantly swallowed by a massive mob of fans.

I tried to hang back and keep my distance, but the crushing crowd shoved me directly against his side. Left with zero options, I forced a polite smile. "Hey, Cade. Long time no see."

His jawline instantly tightened. He deliberately turned his face away, forcing a cold scoff through his clenched teeth.

The second we broke through the crowd and stepped into the studio, Cade sprinted down the hall without looking back. He moved like he had just seen a ghost and I was the one holding the scythe.

Nadine stared at his retreating back, shaking her head. "Never would've guessed. A guy who looks like a walking heartbreaker being so hung up on a girl."

A walking heartbreaker. What an incredibly niche description.

She turned her sharp gaze onto me. "I am curious, though. Why did you reject him?"

How was I supposed to answer that? I just went to sleep. By the time I woke up, he had single-handedly written, directed, and starred in an entire romantic tragedy without giving me a single line.

Right before the cameras started rolling, I stepped out of the restroom and caught a familiar voice echoing from around the corner. I stepped closer, spotting Cade cornered by his manager.

"For the love of God, Cade, are you seriously going out there with those sunglasses on? Do you have any idea how fast people are going to call you an arrogant diva? Haven't you had enough trending tags for one week?"

Cade ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "My eyes are swollen completely shut. If I take these off, I look like a wreck."

"And whose fault is that? You cried the entire night. So what if she rejected you? Was that really necessary?"

Cade practically jumped out of his skin. "Of course it was necessary! She's literally here today! Do I not get to have any pride left?"

"Getting rejected is humiliating enough. If she finds out I actually cried over it, I might as well dig a hole and die."

Well, he could probably take the sunglasses off now, considering I had just heard every single word of that breakdown.

My brain immediately conjured an image of Cade sitting up in the middle of the night, staring at our chat log with red, puffy eyes, absolutely sobbing. I had to admit. That mental image? Way more attractive than his usual untouchable bad-boy persona.

Chapter 3

In the end, Cade didn't wear the sunglasses on stage, opting to bury the damage under a heavy layer of concealer instead. Because of the little breakdown I'd overheard earlier, my eyes immediately zeroed in on the faint, lingering redness around his rims.

Once the cameras rolled, his eyes glued to the floor anywhere but my direction. A few times, our eyes accidentally locked, and he instantly jerked his gaze away, his jaw clamped tight.

This desperate, fumbling attempt at a cover-up practically stamped "GUILTY AS CHARGED" right across his forehead.

The core premise of this talk show was simple: a panel of celebrity guests reacting to and debating viral relationship stories or leaked chat logs on a live broadcast. Because they never shied away from messy topics, the ratings were consistently through the roof. I knew the producers were ruthless, but I didn't expect them to be downright suicidal.

The very first slide they threw up on the massive screen was Cade's disastrous confession texts from last night. They even had the nerve to blur out the profile pictures, as if that pathetic attempt at censorship fooled anyone.

The panel of guests exchanged terrified glances. Not a single person dared to open their mouth. The host, clearly anticipating this exact dead air, turned directly to the man of the hour, asking him to analyze what the "female protagonist" in this scenario might be thinking.

God help me. How did we suddenly pivot to a live national broadcast of people guessing my inner thoughts?

Cade shot a deeply resentful glare at the chat log on the screen, his jaw tight as he fought the urge to look in my direction. "What else could she be thinking?" he muttered, his voice dropping into a bleak, hollow register. "She just doesn't like him."

What on earth was with that expression? He looked like a puppy who just got curb-stomped by the most toxic woman alive.

Since the victim himself had spoken, the other guests finally felt safe enough to chime in. The only problem? Every time they offered an opinion, Cade instantly snapped back.

"I think she's playing hard to get. Keeping him on a hook," one guest offered.

"Impossible," Cade shot down instantly. "She's not like that."

"Come on, it's obvious. She's treating this guy like a total joke," another chimed in.

"No, she isn't. She's too sweet for that."

"If you ask me, she just thrives on the ego boost of being chased."

"Total garbage," Cade snapped. "She would never do that."

The longer this went on, the hotter my ears burned. The rest of the panel simply stared at him, the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Meanwhile, the live chat was practically exploding off the screen.

[Someone tell Cade to dial back the desperate simp energy.]

[Just drop Cade's social security number on the screen already. The game hasn't even started and he's throwing himself on his own sword.]

[I am officially crying for him. He looks completely shattered, but he's still defending her honor.]

[Somebody save this ultimate fool trapped in his own delusion. He needs to go on one of those hopeless romantic reality shows, not sit here.]

After circling the entire panel, the host finally landed his gaze on me. I instinctively glanced at Cade. The muscles in his neck were tight with tension.

I leaned back in my chair, shifting into a more comfortable position, and locked eyes directly with the camera. A perfectly innocent smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

"Is there any possibility," I started slowly, "that she simply fell asleep and missed the text?"

The entire studio erupted.

"No way, absolutely not."

"That is the biggest stretch I've ever heard."

"I'm definitely not buying that."

The live chat and the panel entirely rejected the theory. But Cade slowly lifted his head, his gaze locking onto mine. A raw, fragile hope cracked his voice. "Could that actually be true?"

Of course it was true. Because that "she" was me.

Chapter 4

The live chat watched Cades pathetic display and practically tore their hair out in frustration.

[Somebody call an ambulance, can he please wake up? He actually believes that?]

[Never thought I'd see the day where Cade and my hopelessly desperate bestie had the exact same energy.]

[Math check: My bestie = hopelessly whipped. Cade = hopelessly whipped. Therefore, my bestie = Cade. The math is mathing.]

[I can't even imagine. If the girl he likes actually tells him she fell asleep, he'd probably beg her to unblock him and apologize for half an hour straight.]

[I'm saying Cade needs to add her back right now and interrogate her.]

The host glanced at the monitor, his eyes catching that last comment, and a spark of malicious inspiration lit up his face. "Tell you what," the host suggested. "Why doesn't Cade add this mystery girl back right now and see if she replies?"

We were just dropping Cade's name casually now? Was there even a point to the blurred-out profile pictures anymore? And I could tell them right now, she wouldn't reply. Because that mystery girl was currently sitting right on this stage, eating up the drama like popcorn.

Cade shut it down without a single second of hesitation. "She's busy right now. She probably won't see it."

The host, like a dog with a bone, refused to let it go. "How about a phone call then? Just clear the air."

My muscles instantly locked up. Wait a minute. Was this segment designed to torture Cade, or to completely assassinate me?

Cade went dead silent for a few seconds. When he finally opened his mouth, his voice scraped out. "I don't have her number. I had to ask a dozen different people just to get her social media."

His large frame slumped heavily back against his chair, his eyes rimmed with a suppressed, feverish red. Sitting there, his shoulders hunched inward, he resembled nothing more than a massive, abandoned dog.

Hearing that, an inexplicable wave of guilt crashed over me, suddenly making me feel like the most unforgivable villain on earth.

The host finally shut his mouth, a flicker of genuine pity crossing his features.

The rest of the recording crawled by.

When the cameras finally cut, I packed up my things as fast as humanly possible. But the second I stepped toward the exit, I saw Cade planted right by the door, clearly waiting for me.

The moment he spotted me, his jaw flexed. He swallowed hard, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly rasp. "Was it true? About falling asleep?"

When I didn't immediately answer, he scrambled to fill the silence. "Of course, if it wasn't true, that's fine. If you just flat-out didn't want to reply to me, that's fine too."

"Or if you just don't like me at all, that's completely fine. I was just asking. Seriously, just asking."

I watched him violently backpedal, a small, amused huff escaping my lips. "Are you sure it's fine?"

He shot me a quick, intense look before dropping his gaze to the floor. His broad shoulders hunched forward.

"No," he muttered bitterly. "It's not fine. It matters a lot."

Chapter 5

Cade ducked his head, his face a mask of silent grievance that looked like an iceberg seconds away from completely collapsing. No wonder his fans always claimed this untouchable superstar possessed a lethally beautiful vulnerability when he cried on screen. Today, I finally experienced the full, devastating force of it firsthand.

"It's true. I really did just fall asleep." If I was going to clear the air, I might as well rip the band-aid off right now.

Cades head snapped up. A sudden, blinding spark of hope ignited in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but his manager practically materialized out of thin air, grabbing his arm and hauling him away.

"Cade, I swear to God, you're impossible," his manager muttered, dragging him backward. "The cameras haven't even been off for two minutes and you're already sprinting over here to beg for her attention. Do you really need her to spell it out to your face before you finally give up?"

Cade tried to yank his arm free, but the fight drained out of him the second Nadine marched over and grabbed my shoulder, shoving me in the opposite direction.

His manager kept lecturing him, but Cade clearly wasn't processing a single syllable. "She's not that cold," I heard him mutter to himself, his voice carrying down the hall.

"She just fell asleep. I knew she wouldn't just ignore me like that. I'm just too damn fragile."

His voice dropped to a rough whisper. "I can't believe I deleted her contact. Now I'm going to have to grovel to get her back. I really don't know how to appreciate a good thing when I have it."

The corners of my mouth twitched upward before I could stop them.

Nadine caught the smile and her eyebrows pinched together. "Didn't I tell you to stay a hundred feet away from him?"

I could control my own feet, but I certainly couldn't put Cade on a leash.

Nadine didn't stop lecturing me until I was shoved into the back of our van. Listening to her rant, a bizarre thought flashed through my mind: Cade and I were basically a modern-day Romeo and Juliet. Two people with undeniable sparks, forced into some tragic, star-crossed lover narrative because of our warring households.

The second the thought materialized, I mentally slapped myself across the face. This was what happened when you spent too much time reading fanfiction online. Now I was projecting that delusional garbage onto my own life.

Thanks to Cade's parting words, I spent every ounce of my free time over the next few days wondering exactly how he planned to crawl back into my DMs.

Days ticked by. Absolute radio silence.

Just as I was about to scrub the whole pathetic ordeal from my memory, Nadine called me.

"I got you a script," she announced, her voice buzzing with manic excitement. "It's an amazing project. The male lead falls for the female lead, confesses, but then completely chickens out and starts avoiding her. Because of all this drama, she finally starts paying attention to him, and eventually falls for him too."

I inhaled sharply through my teeth. Why did that plot sound so painfully familiar? Did Cade write this script himself?

A suspicious tightness gripped my chest. "Who's playing the male lead?"

Nadine's pitch went up another octave. "Cade."

The answer was somehow totally shocking and completely inevitable all at once. But the real shocker was Nadine's sudden change of tune.

"Wait a minute. Didn't you literally threaten my life if I didn't stay away from him?"

"This is business," she practically sang. "Everyone in the industry knows Cade has a golden eye for scripts. His projects either break viewership records or win every award on the planet. You take this role, and you are going to be a massive star."

She spent the next five minutes aggressively painting a picture of my glorious, filthy rich future.

We signed the contracts. A few days later, the official studio account dropped the cast announcement. I scrolled through the names, and my finger froze on the screen.

The actress cast as the second female lead was Chloe.

Chapter 6

The night before shooting officially kicked off, the director organized a dinner for the main cast. By the time I walked into the private dining room, the table was already packed. The only empty seat left was the one right next to Cade.

Cade's eyes flicked to me for a fraction of a second. His Adam's apple bobbed as he grabbed his water glass, taking a quick sip to hide the tension in his shoulders.

I hesitated for a beat before making my way over and slipping into the chair beside him.

The director watched me sit down and flashed a knowing grin. "Look at our male and female leads. The visual chemistry is off the charts."

The corner of Cade's mouth instantly twitched upward. A second later, he discreetly turned his head, scanning my face to gauge my reaction. When I didn't pull away or look annoyed, the faint smirk blossomed into a full, devastatingly genuine smile.

I hadn't worked with anyone else in this room before, but the entire night, I could feel a heavy gaze practically burning a hole into the side of my head. I finally looked up and caught Chloe desperately jerking her eyes away. She didn't look like a mean girl getting caught staring. She looked nervous, fidgetylike a hardcore fan freezing up in front of their idol.

It clicked instantly. She probably wasn't staring at me at all. She was staring at Cade.

The director spent the next hour aggressively selling us the dream, talking up the show's massive potential and guaranteed success. I couldn't get a single word in edgewise, so I focused all my attention on the food. It was a massive table with a revolving center, yet somehow, every single time the rotation stopped, my absolute favorite dishes landed perfectly in front of me.

I turned slightly to look at Cade. He caught me staring and immediately yanked his hand off the edge of the glass turntable, staring straight ahead like absolutely nothing had happened. I pressed my lips together to hide a smile and kept my mouth shut.

As the dinner started winding down, Cade's demeanor shifted. The heat radiating from his side of the table grew heavy. He kept shifting in his seat, his jaw clenched, looking increasingly franticlike he was running out of time to defuse a bomb.

I discreetly studied him out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly, he shot a sharp, meaningful look straight at the director.

The director blinked, completely missing the cue at first. Then his eyes flicked to me, and absolute clarity washed over his face.

"Hey, since were all going to be stuck together on set," the director announced loudly, "we're basically family now. Everyone, get your phones out. Let's exchange contacts."

Cade's Adam's apple bobbed heavily. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, desperately trying to look nonchalant. Inch by torturous inch, he slid the device across the table until it rested in the dangerous, electrically charged space where our elbows were practically brushing against each other.

It was so close he might as well have shoved it directly into my pocket. So that was his grand master plan