Zack stared out the car window, watching the city skyline gradually disappear as Kieran drove them toward the hills.
The neighborhoods became quieter, the houses larger and more extravagant, until they turned onto a winding road lined with trees.
When Kieran finally stopped in front of a tall, modern house surrounded by a high fence, Zack's stomach did a nervous flip.
"This is it," Kieran said, turning off the car and glancing at Zack with a small smile.
Zack blinked, gripping the strap of his overnight bag tightly. "You weren't kidding about the whole 'private and quiet' thing, huh?"
"Yeah, the paparazzi don't get past the gates here," Kieran said, stepping out of the car. "Come on, I'll give you the tour."
Zack followed hesitantly, his sneakers crunching on the gravel driveway.
The house was sleek and modern, all glass and sharp angles, with a panoramic view of the city below. It was stunning, but it didn't feel like a home.
Inside, the house was just as immaculate. The open living space was furnished with clean, minimalist pieces, and the walls were lined with tasteful art. It looked like something out of a magazine.
"This place is… wow," Zack said, glancing around as Kieran led him inside. "Do you actually live here? It's so clean."
Kieran laughed. "I don't spend a lot of time here, so yeah, it stays pretty spotless. My housekeeper comes by twice a week, too."
Zack raised an eyebrow. "Of course you have a housekeeper."
"You're judging me already?" Kieran teased, grinning. "You've barely been here five minutes."
This place is insane. It doesn't even feel real. How can anyone actually live like this?
And of course, Kieran's making it worse by acting like this is totally normal. For him, I guess it is.
I already feel like a fish out of water.
Kieran showed Zack around the rest of the house, from the spacious kitchen to the infinity pool in the backyard.
Zack could barely wrap his head around the sheer size of the place. It was so different from his tiny apartment, where every inch of space was crammed with furniture and clutter.
When they finally reached the guest room, Zack was relieved to see that it looked more comfortable than the rest of the house.
The bed was large but not overly extravagant, and the windows offered a stunning view of the city lights.
"This is you," Kieran said, leaning against the doorframe. "You can make yourself at home. Seriously, don't hold back."
Zack dropped his bag by the bed, glancing around the room. "Thanks. I'll try not to mess anything up."
"You couldn't if you tried," Kieran said with a laugh. "But seriously, relax. This isn't a hotel. You're not a guest—you're my fake boyfriend, remember?"
Zack snorted, rolling his eyes. "How could I forget?"
I feel like I don't belong here. But Kieran's trying to make it seem normal, like this is just two people hanging out.
It's weird. I thought being around him would make me more nervous, but… he's actually kind of easy to be around.
The first few hours were surprisingly uneventful. Zack unpacked his things while Kieran worked on his laptop in the living room.
For a moment, it almost felt normal—like they were two roommates going about their day.
But the peace didn't last long.
Zack wandered into the kitchen to grab a snack, only to find Kieran staring into an empty fridge with a look of pure confusion.
"What's wrong?" Zack asked, leaning against the counter.
"I think my housekeeper forgot to restock," Kieran said, closing the fridge with a sigh. "I don't even know what half the stuff in there is."
Zack raised an eyebrow, opening the fridge himself. Sure enough, it was filled with obscure, overpriced ingredients that Zack couldn't even pronounce.
"Do you even cook?" Zack asked, pulling out a jar of something that looked suspiciously like caviar.
"Not really," Kieran admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I usually order in."
Zack shook his head, laughing. "You're hopeless."
"Well, I didn't exactly grow up learning how to make spaghetti," Kieran said, grinning. "Cut me some slack."
Zack smirked, setting the jar back in the fridge. "Guess I'll be the one cooking, then. Unless you want to survive on takeout for the next few weeks."
"Deal," Kieran said, his grin widening. "You cook, I'll clean."
"Like you've ever cleaned anything in your life," Zack muttered under his breath, but Kieran just laughed.
Of course he doesn't know how to cook. Why am I not surprised?
But… it's kind of nice, actually. Seeing him like this. He's not the untouchable movie star right now—he's just Kieran.
It makes him feel a little more real.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of small talk and laughter as Zack whipped up a quick meal using the limited ingredients in the fridge.
Kieran stayed close by, occasionally offering to "help" but mostly getting in the way.
By the time they sat down to eat, Zack felt more relaxed than he had in days.
It was strange—being in Kieran's world should have been intimidating, but instead, it felt… easy.
"You know," Kieran said as they finished eating, "this is the first time I've had a home-cooked meal in months."
Zack blinked. "Seriously?"
Kieran shrugged, his smile soft. "Yeah. I guess I've just been so busy I never really thought about it."
"Well, don't get used to it," Zack said, though his tone was light. "I'm not a personal chef."
"Could've fooled me," Kieran said, smirking.
Why does he have to be so charming all the time?
This is fake. I have to remember that.
But sometimes… it doesn't feel fake. And that's what scares me.
As they cleared the table, Zack couldn't help but feel the growing tension between them.
It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly—it was more like an unspoken question hanging in the air.
For now, Zack pushed it aside, focusing on the simple task of cleaning up.
But as he glanced at Kieran, laughing softly at one of his own jokes, Zack couldn't ignore the thought creeping into his mind.
The line between their act and reality was starting to blur, and Zack wasn't sure if he could keep pretending it didn't.