CHAPTER TWO: "Her boyfriend?!"

The ride back to the condo was a blur of streetlights and the rhythmic swish of windshield wipers. Xielle didn't even remember closing her eyes, but the next thing she knew, Tania was gently shaking her shoulder.

"Khione, we’re here. Gising na, baka mapuyat ka lalo," Tania said softly.

Xielle blinked, her brain foggy from the heavy, bone-deep fatigue. "Ingat ka... thank you for the ride, and for the rescue," she murmured as she stepped out into the humid night air.

"I will. Sleep well, Khione. You’re going to need it," Tania replied with a knowing look.

Xielle barely made it to her unit. She didn't even have the energy to do her full skincare routine; she just crashed onto her bed, the silence of the room finally swallowing her whole.

5:00 AM.

The alarm didn't just wake her up; it felt like a physical blow. Xielle sat up, her dark hair tangled and her eyes heavy. Today was the day. The "Beauty Glam" shoot. The day she had to play "in love" with the man who broke her.

She didn't have time to be a person. She only had time to be a product.

Still in her silk pajamas, she dragged herself down to the waiting van. Maxine was already inside, his iPad glowing with a schedule that looked like a military invasion plan.

"Ma... can you get me an iced Americano? Extra shot," Xielle croaked, leaning her head against the cool leather seat and closing her eyes again.

"Sure, anak. Is that all? You need fuel," Maxine said, his voice unusually gentle.

"Yeah... and one slice of cheesecake," she whispered. If she was going to face Jake, she needed a sugar rush and enough caffeine to stop her heart.

She felt the van pull over and the door slide open, but she stayed in her cocoon of exhaustion. A few minutes later, she felt the familiar weight of a coffee cup and a takeout box being placed beside her. She forced herself to sit up, eating the cheesecake in silence while the city woke up around them. It was the only "peace" she would get all day.

By the time the van pulled into the studio lot, she was back in a light sleep.

"Anak, we’re here. Laban na," Maxine whispered.

Xielle stepped out of the van. She didn't have a stitch of makeup on. Her hair was messy, and she was literally wearing pajamas in front of a crew of fifty people.

"Ang ganda pa rin niya... how is that possible?" a production assistant whispered as she passed.

"Effortless. Literal na 'woke up like this,'" another muttered.

Xielle ignored them. She wasn't here to be admired by the staff; she was here to do a job. Maxine walked closely behind her, a shield against the curious eyes, carrying her wardrobe and her life in his hands.

"Maligo ka na, they have a private shower here in the dressing room," Maxine directed, pointing to the VIP suite.

Xielle nodded, the steam of the shower finally clearing the last of the fog from her brain. When she stepped out, wrapped in a plush robe, she sat in front of the vanity mirror. The "Fairy Noir" transformation was about to begin.

As the first layer of primer touched her skin, she saw her own reflection—cold, focused, and ready.

"You're here," a familiar, honeyed voice echoed behind her.

Xielle didn't turn around. She watched Jake’s reflection in the vanity mirror as he stepped into the light. He was already fully styled, looking every bit the nation's heartthrob in a structured velvet suit.

"Nakikita mo naman?" Xielle replied, her voice dripping with enough sarcasm to frost the glass.

Maxine let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh, trying to soften the blow. "Pasensya ka na, Jake. Antok pa itong alaga ko. She hasn't had her third coffee yet."

Jake didn't look offended. Instead, he tilted his head, a knowing, almost possessive smirk playing on his lips. "No worries. She really acts like that when she's sleepy. Some things never change, right, Khione?"

Xielle’s grip tightened on her phone. Khione. The name felt like a bruise. Only people from her past called her that, and hearing it from him felt like a violation. She didn't offer him a response. Without a word, she stood up and walked toward the dressing area to change into her shoot wardrobe, leaving him standing there with his "leading man" smile.

The concept was "Midnight Romance." The set was draped in dark ivy and deep purple roses—a garden that looked beautiful but felt suffocating.

"Closer! Xielle, lean into his chest. Jake, wrap your arm around her waist—protectively," the photographer barked.

Xielle felt Jake’s hand slide onto her waist. Through the thin fabric of her silk gown, his touch felt like an unwanted brand. She stiffened for a micro-second before her professional instincts took over. She softened her shoulders, tilted her head back, and looked into his eyes with a gaze that looked like longing but was actually cold, calculated emptiness.

"Grabe, the chemistry!" a stylist whispered loudly from the sidelines.

"Bagay talaga sila. It’s like they never stayed apart," another chimed in.

Jake leaned down, his lips brushing against her temple as part of the pose. "They're right, you know," he whispered, low enough that only she could hear. "We still fit perfectly, Kia. Stop fighting it."

Xielle maintained her pose, her smile for the camera remaining flawless, but her voice was a sharp blade. "We aren't 'fitting,' Jake. I’m acting. There’s a difference. One is my job, and the other was your specialty back in college."

"Ouch," Jake chuckled, though his grip on her waist tightened slightly. "Still bitter?"

"Bitter is for people who still care," Xielle countered, her eyes shifting to the lens as the shutter clicked. "I'm just bored."

"Break for ten minutes! Retouch!" the photographer shouted.

The moment the lights dimmed, Xielle stepped out of Jake’s reach so fast it was as if he were made of acid. She marched toward Maxine, who was already waiting with a silk robe and a fan.

"Nak, tubig. You look like you're about to bite someone," Maxine whispered, ushering her to a corner.

"I hate this, Ma. I hate the way they talk about us like we're some fairytale," Xielle said, her chest heaving. She looked across the room and saw Jake talking to the producers, looking charming and effortless.

She reached for her tablet, ignoring the "kilig" whispers of the crew.

The second layout began under a heavy cloud of unspoken words. Xielle moved like a professional athlete—calculated, precise, and deceptively calm. She channeled every ounce of her remaining energy into her gaze, ensuring that the camera captured "passion" while her heart felt like stone.

When the photographer finally shouted, "That’s a wrap! Perfect, absolute gold!" the tension in the room snapped, replaced by the rowdy cheers of the crew.

"Grabe, match made in heaven talaga!" one of the lighting technicians joked.

"May Spark! Hindi niyo kami maloloko!" a stylist added, nudging Xielle playfully.

Jake stood nearby, basking in the attention. He leaned into the teasing, flashing his dimples and offering a boyish shrug that only fueled the fire. He looked every bit the smitten leading man. Xielle, however, was a statue. She didn't laugh. She didn't blush. She simply handed her props to an assistant and walked toward her dressing room without a single backward glance.

10:00 AM.

The Manila sun was starting to bake the pavement outside as they climbed back into the van. Xielle had traded her silk gown for a simple oversized hoodie and leggings, but she still felt the weight of the morning’s work pressing down on her.

"Gusto mo muna matulog? We have a forty-minute drive," Maxine asked, looking at her through the rearview mirror with motherly concern.

Xielle shook her head, her eyes fixed on the glowing screen of her phone. "Hindi na, Ma. I'm fine."

Her thumb scrolled incessantly. The internet was already a battlefield. Even though the official photos weren't out yet, leaked "behind-the-scenes" clips of them standing close together had already gone viral. Fans were dissecting every frame, every look, and every "accidental" touch.

@XielleDaily: DID YOU SEE THE WAY JAKE WAS LOOKING AT HER? I’M SCREAMING. #XiJake #BeautyGlam

@PinoyCelebWatcher: Xielle looks so expensive beside him. The visual chemistry is insane. 👑

"Ang ingay ng pangalan mo ngayon, anak. Trending ka sa lahat ng platforms," Maxine noted, his phone chiming with endless notifications.

Xielle stared at a photo of her and Jake from the first layout. In the picture, she looked like she was melting into him. She looked... happy. It was a terrifyingly good performance.

"Is it a good thing?" she asked, her voice small.

"Of course," Maxine replied, turning around to give her a bright, encouraging smile. "In this industry, noise is money. Noise is power. And right now, you’re the loudest person in the room. Everyone is waiting for that 4 PM release."

Xielle just offered a faint, tired smile and looked back out the window.

The world was celebrating a reunion that wasn't real. They were cheering for a "love" that was actually a crime scene. As the van sped toward her next promotion, Xielle felt a strange sense of detachment. She was winning the game of fame, but the cost was becoming harder to ignore.

The lobby of the broadcasting station was buzzing with the usual energy of a live production. Xielle moved through the halls like a ghost in a designer dress, her heels clicking a rhythmic beat that matched the pounding in her head.

"I want a lighter look today," Xielle told her makeup artist as she sat in the chair. "Barely there. I want to look... human."

The artist worked quickly, dusting a hint of peach onto her lids and a swipe of tint on her lips. When the chair turned around, the crew gasped.

"You're so pretty, Ms. Xielle. Honestly, you don't even need the glam."

Xielle offered a soft, practiced smile. "Thank you."

The live broadcast was a blur. She sat on the brightly lit stage, answering the same questions she had been asked a hundred times before. She laughed at the host's jokes at the right intervals. She tilted her head perfectly for the wide-angle shots. Every move was being watched, dissected, and broadcasted to millions of screens. One wrong look, one tired sigh, and the "Ethereal Icon" image would shatter.

She was a second-year college student, a daughter, a friend—but here, she was just a brand.

By the time the cameras finally cut and the "On Air" sign flickered off, it was past noon. The adrenaline that had been keeping her upright evaporated instantly, leaving her bones feeling like lead.

"Finally," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

She spent the next hour signing posters and filming short thank you clips for the sponsors. Her face felt stiff from the hours of smiling, her jaw tight with the effort of being on.

"Hatid na kita, anak. You look like you're about to collapse," Maxine said, draping a denim jacket over her shoulders to hide her broadcast outfit.

Xielle didn't argue. She followed him to the van, her eyes already half-closed before the door even slid shut. She didn't check the news. She didn't look at the trending hashtags. She just leaned her head against the window and watched the blurred colors of Metro Manila pass by.

It was 3:00 PM when the van finally pulled up to the front of her condo. The sun was still high, but for Xielle, the day was finally over.

"Ingat ka, Ma. See you tomorrow," Xielle said, grabbing her bag.

"Matulog ka, Khione. No phones, no scripts. Just sleep," Maxine reminded her.

Xielle gave a small, genuine nod—the first real one of the day. She walked through the lobby, past the security guards who gave her respectful nods, and into the sanctuary of the elevator.

When she finally reached her unit, she didn't even turn on the lights. She kicked off her heels, let her bag drop to the floor, and walked straight to her bedroom. She fell onto the bed, still in her clothes, finally letting the silence of the room wash over her. No cameras. No Jake. No expectations.

For the first time in twenty-four hours, Xielle Khione was allowed to simply exist.

Xielle woke up at 7:00 PM, not to the sound of an alarm, but to the hollow ache in her stomach. The silence of her condo was thick, broken only by the hum of the city outside. She crossed the room to the fridge, hoping for a miracle, but found nothing but cold air and empty shelves.

"I should stock more," she muttered, the door clicking shut with a finality that echoed her mood.

She sank onto the velvet couch, her work phone—the one vibrating with a thousand "XiJake" notifications—left abandoned on the kitchen island. She grabbed her personal phone and opened a delivery app. Her finger hovered over the healthy options before drifting toward the "comfort" tab.

"Hindi naman malalaman," she whispered to the empty room. "I deserve this after a long week of no meals."

She bypassed the salads and went straight for her cravings: spicy chicken wings, truffle fries, and a large milk tea, full sugar. She knew the caloric math she’d have to do later, but right now, she needed to feel human.

While waiting, she stepped into the shower. She scrubbed her skin until it was pink, desperate to wash away the scent of the studio, the artificial fog, and the lingering presence of Jake Marquez. When she stepped out, the "Fairy Noir" was gone. In her place was a girl in an oversized hoodie, loose shorts, and thick glasses. No makeup. No styling. Just Khione.

Ding.

The food arrived. She ate while watching a movie on her laptop, ignoring the chaos of social media. This was her sanctuary. At exactly 7:00 PM, Maxine called to report the surge in brand offers following the campaign launch, but Xielle kept it short.

"Kailangan ko na sulitin ang pahinga na 'to," she told herself. She knew the noise was exactly what Jake wanted—fame. But she wanted something else.

8:30 PM: The Z Luxury Headquarters

Despite the late hour, Xielle found herself at Tania’s office. She was incognito—hoodie up, black cap low, and a face mask shielding her features. She looked like any other tired student, not the woman currently trending #1

She walked toward the elevator, her head down. As the doors were about to slide shut, a hand blocked them. A man stepped in.

Xielle instinctively stiffened, pulling her cap lower. The man stood tall, radiating an effortless authority despite his casual shirt and pants. She could feel his gaze on her—lingering, questioning. It made her skin prickle.

Thinking he was a fan who had spotted her, she raised a hand in a dismissive, tired gesture. "Sorry, no pictures today," she said, her voice muffled by the mask.

The man didn't respond. He simply watched her until the doors chimed at the 15th floor. Xielle hurried out, only exhaling once she saw Tania waiting at the lobby.

"Khione! Sobrang atake ka naman sa suot mo," Tania teased, eyeing the baggy outfit.

"Alam mo naman ang gulo sa labas," Xielle replied, glancing back at the closing elevator. "Anyway, pwede ba ako rito? Am I allowed to stay?"

"Dito lang tayo sa lobby couch, safe ka rito," Tania said, opening her laptop.

For the next hour, they weren't friends gossiping; they were collaborators. Tania laid out the new marketing plan, but Xielle didn't just nod. She took the digital pen and started circling flaws.

The low hum of conversation continued between Xielle and Tania in the corner of the lobby. Amidst their marketing talk, Tania couldn't help but bring up the topic that was currently setting social media on fire.

"Did he message you? Or call?" Tania asked, referring to Jake.

Xielle shook her head, her expression hardening. "Wala akong balak kausapin siya. He’s a closed chapter."

"Good. Alam mo naman 'yang si Jake, fame and attention lang ang gusto niyan. He’ll just use you para lalong umingay ang pangalan niya," Tania warned.

"I can tell. Anyway, I don't care," Xielle replied, masking her irritation.

A secretary approached them moments later. "Miss Tania, tinatawag po kayo ni Boss."

"Go, I’ll wait here," Xielle said. Tania left her alone in the lobby. Out of boredom, Xielle opened her phone—a mistake she immediately regretted.

@Xiellefan_acc: They look good together! Visual goals! ✊🏻🥺✊🏻

She scrolled through the comments. Some were kilig, but the hate comments were unavoidable. Some said she was just "a pretty face with no brains," or that she was "using Jake for clout."

Xielle closed her eyes and turned off her phone, tilting her head back to stop the tears from falling. To the public, she was just a decoration.

Xielle was like a rose—fragile and exquisite to the sight, but people often forget that for a rose to survive a world that wants to pluck it, it must grow thorns that hurt even those who try to admire it.

To distract herself, she stood up to look at the paintings on the wall and the perfume displays. "Oh, interesting..." she whispered, reading the descriptions.

"Xielle!" Tania called out, approaching with a wide smile.

"May drink kami later, sama ka!"

Xielle frowned immediately. "You know I can't go to a public place, Tania. I might cause trouble."

Tania put an arm around her. "No worries! Sa bahay ni Boss ang celebration. The sales were high and the marketing feedback was great, so he agreed to host it."

"He allows that?" Xielle was shocked. Tania nodded before heading back inside to grab her things.

While waiting, Xielle looked at a portrait. "I'm curious, how old is Zeke? I mean..." she wondered aloud.

"Let's wait for Boss," Tania said upon returning.

"There he is."

Xielle looked where Tania was pointing. Her jaw literally dropped. Walking toward them was a man who looked like he stepped straight out of a high-budget K-Drama. Tall—at least 6'3—moreno, with thick brows, a sharp nose, and a jawline that could cut paper.

Tania nudged her to snap her out of it. "Boss, this is Xielle, the one I told you about."

He didn't even spare her a glance. "Oh, I see."

‘He didn't even look at me?’ Xielle whispered to herself. She felt a sting of insult; she was used to being the center of attention, but this man acted like she was invisible.

"Boss, can she ride in your car instead? My car isn't tinted, baka pagkaguluhan siya," Tania requested.

"It’s fine with me, no need," Xielle countered quickly.

"But they'll see you—"

"Okay, let’s go," Zeke cut the conversation short and turned his back.

"You like him, don't you?" Tania whispered as they walked.

Xielle shook her head. "What an arrogant man."

Inside the elevator, Zeke’s perfume seemed to swallow the air. It was strong yet sophisticated—a mix of sandalwood and midnight rain.

"Did he shower in his perfume?" Xielle whispered to Tania.

"Matapang talaga 'yan. I’ll give you a sample, bigay mo kay Jake," Tania teased.

"Ibasag ko sa mukha niya," Xielle muttered, making Tania giggle.

When they reached the parking lot, the employees went wild seeing Xielle. Photos here and there. "I'm dead," Xielle told herself.

"Tsk," she heard Zeke scoff, shaking his head. He was clearly irritated by the delay.

Because the employees were intimidated by Zeke, no one wanted to ride in his car. Xielle ended up in the passenger seat. In the middle of the drive, her phone vibrated.

Jake: Let's have a dinner for a successful launch.

"Fuck you! Dinner your ass!" Xielle hissed at her phone, forgetting she wasn't alone. "Fuck! I’m sorry," she gasped, glancing at Zeke.

He didn't respond. Xielle angrily dialed Maxine. "Who gave my number to that bastard?! Get me a new SIM, Maxine! This is my personal number!"

After the call, she slumped back into her seat. She looked at Zeke. This man was like a wall—completely unmoved by her presence. Then, her phone rang again. An unregistered number. She answered and put it on speaker.

"This is Jake. Xielle, let's have dinner for celebration."

"Where did you get my number?" Xielle asked, gritting her teeth.

"It's not important. So, yes?"