My Cold Magazine Prince

Asher’s POV

The cursor on my screen blinked impatiently, mocking my inability to focus. Three deadlines, two urgent emails, and one boyfriend who acted like I was a stranger. Welcome to my life, the glamorous world of Falls Magazine.

"Damn it," I muttered, rubbing my eyes.

The office had emptied hours ago. Only the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional ping from my laptop kept me company. The New York skyline glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, a beautiful view I barely noticed anymore. All I could see was the red notification bubble on our latest cover mock-up.

Xander's face stared back at me from the screen. Those ocean blue eyes that once melted my heart now only reminded me of arctic ice. Cold. Distant. Unyielding.

I reached for my coffee cup, finding only cold dregs at the bottom. A perfect metaphor for my relationship.

My finger hovered over my phone. Was calling him a mistake? Probably. Did I care? Not anymore. After twelve months of loving someone who barely acknowledged my existence outside of work, my dignity had taken a permanent vacation.

I tapped his contact and waited, my heart hammering against my ribs. One ring. Two rings. Three.

"What do you want this time?" His voice cut through the line, sharp as a blade.

No hello. No warmth. Just irritation, as if I'd interrupted something important. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Hey, I was wondering if we could meet up tonight?" I tried to keep my voice casual, like I wasn't begging for scraps of attention from my own boyfriend.

"What for?" Xander asked, the sound of voices and music in the background. Another party I hadn't been invited to.

"I thought we could talk. About us." My voice cracked on the last word, betraying me.

"We can talk over the phone. I'm busy."

I gripped the edge of my desk. "Xander, I haven't seen you outside of work in two weeks. Don't you think that's a problem?"

"We see each other every day at the office," he said flatly. "Is that not enough for you?"

The dismissal hurt worse than outright anger would have. "It's not the same and you know it."

"You're being selfish, Asher." His voice turned colder, if that was even possible. "You're trying to monopolize me like I'm some item you purchased. I have a life outside of you."

The words hit like a physical blow. Selfish? For wanting to spend time with the person who supposedly loved me?

"That's not fair and you know it," I whispered. "I miss you. I miss us."

Silence stretched between us, populated by the sound of laughter in the background of his call.

"I have to go," he said finally. "The layouts better be ready by morning."

The call ended before I could respond. Just like that, from boyfriend to boss in the span of a conversation.

I stared at my phone, the screen turning dark, reflecting my own stunned face back at me. Something hot and wet slid down my cheek, and I realized I was crying. Great. Crying at work. Again.

The tears came freely now that I wasn't fighting them anymore. They splashed onto my keyboard as I tried to focus on the layouts again. Who was I kidding? The first few months with Xander had been cautious but promising. He'd been reserved but attentive, his cool exterior occasionally giving way to moments of genuine connection. But over time, those moments had become rarer, the ice forming layer by layer until I could barely recognize the man I'd fallen for.

What had changed? What had I done wrong?

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and forced myself to finish the work. Another hour passed as I meticulously checked every caption, every crop mark, every headline. Falls Magazine had a reputation to uphold, and Tasher Fauler, CEO of Falls Magazine, wouldn't accept anything less than perfection, especially when her son graced the cover.

By the time I finished, my eyes burned and my back ached from hunching over the computer. The office was silent except for the gentle whir of the air conditioning. I packed my laptop and glanced one last time at the cover preview.

Xander stared back at me, his perfectly sculpted face set in that trademark smoldering gaze that had launched a thousand magazine sales. The headline read: "The Man Behind the Face: Xander Fauler Reveals All."

I snorted. If only they knew there was nothing to reveal. The real Xander was locked away behind walls I couldn't penetrate.

The elevator ride to the ground floor felt eternal. My reflection in the polished metal doors showed a man I barely recognized. Dark circles underlined my eyes, and my coffee-brown hair stuck up at odd angles from running my hands through it in frustration.

I paused at an intersection, waiting for the light to change. Above me, a billboard displayed yet another ad featuring Xander for some luxury watch brand. His face looked down on the city, those blue eyes following me everywhere.

The train arrived with a screech of metal on metal. I boarded and found a seat easily. As the doors closed and the train lurched forward, I gazed out the window at the tunnel walls rushing by.

I stared at them almost certain that they could grant me my most desired wishes.

If there was ever anytime I needed to be heard it was now.

"I wish you could see me," I whispered, picturing Xander's face. "Really see me. I wish you could love me the way I love you."

The train rocked gently as it carried me home, the rhythm almost soothing. I closed my eyes again, feeling the weight of unshed tears behind my eyelids.

"I wish you weren't so cold," I murmured, so quietly that no one could hear. "Just once, I want to know what it would be like if you truly loved me back."

Little did I know, some wishes come at a terrible price.