Zack adjusted the collar of his button-down shirt for the third time, glancing nervously at his reflection in the hallway mirror.
He wasn't sure how Kieran managed to convince him to wear something other than his usual hoodie, but here he was—dressed like someone who actually cared about their appearance.
"It's just one dinner," Kieran had said earlier, his smile infuriatingly reassuring. "We'll go in, smile for the cameras, and get out. Easy."
Easy for him, maybe.
"Are you ready yet?" Kieran's voice called from the living room.
Zack sighed, running a hand through his hair before stepping out to face him.
The sight that greeted him was enough to make him momentarily forget how much he was dreading the evening.
Kieran was dressed to perfection, as always. His tailored black blazer and crisp white shirt managed to look both casual and sophisticated, and his dark jeans added a touch of effortless charm.
He was scrolling through his phone, but when he glanced up and saw Zack, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Looking good," Kieran said, his tone warm.
Zack rolled his eyes, though his cheeks flushed. "Don't start."
"I'm serious," Kieran said, his gaze lingering a moment longer before he slipped his phone into his pocket. "Ready to go?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Zack muttered, grabbing his jacket.
I feel like I'm about to step into a lion's den. Cameras, reporters, fans—all of them waiting to dissect every move I make.
And Kieran's just… calm. Of course he's calm. He lives for this kind of thing.
Meanwhile, I feel like my stomach's about to stage a full-scale rebellion.
The restaurant Alicia had picked was high-end and exclusive, the kind of place that practically screamed celebrity hotspot.
By the time Kieran and Zack arrived, a small crowd of photographers and fans had already gathered outside, buzzing with anticipation.
"Just follow my lead," Kieran murmured as they stepped out of the car.
Zack nodded, his palms sweating as he felt the full weight of the crowd's attention on them.
Cameras flashed, fans called out Kieran's name, and Zack did his best to keep his expression neutral.
Kieran, on the other hand, was completely at ease. He waved to the fans, his hand resting lightly on Zack's back as he guided him toward the entrance.
The gesture was casual, but it sent a jolt through Zack's chest.
Inside, the restaurant was quieter, though Zack could still feel the weight of the patrons' gazes as they were escorted to their table.
"Relax," Kieran said once they were seated, his voice low. "They're more interested in me than you."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Zack whispered back, glancing around nervously.
Kieran chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're doing fine. Just act like you're having a good time, and they'll eat it up."
Act like I'm having a good time? Easy for him to say. He's been doing this for years.
Meanwhile, I feel like I'm one wrong move away from starting a tabloid firestorm.
Their waiter arrived shortly after, delivering menus and rattling off the specials with practiced precision.
Zack barely glanced at the options, too distracted by the growing anxiety bubbling in his chest.
Kieran, however, seemed to sense his unease. "Order whatever you want," he said, his tone casual. "My treat."
Zack raised an eyebrow. "You realize I'm not used to eating at places like this, right? I don't even know what half this stuff is."
Kieran laughed, leaning across the table slightly. "Okay, how about this? I'll order for us. Trust me?"
Zack hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But if you order something weird, I'm blaming you."
Kieran smirked. "Noted."
As the evening went on, Zack found himself relaxing slightly, thanks in no small part to Kieran's effortless charm.
He wasn't sure if it was part of the act or just Kieran being Kieran, but the way Kieran kept the conversation light and easy made it hard to stay tense.
By the time dessert arrived—a beautifully plated chocolate mousse that looked more like art than food—Zack almost forgot they were supposed to be performing.
That illusion shattered the moment Kieran reached across the table, his hand brushing lightly against Zack's.
Zack froze, his breath hitching as Kieran's fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary.
What is he doing? Is this part of the act?
It has to be, right? There's no way this is real.
But then why does it feel real?
"Zack," Kieran said softly, his gaze steady.
Zack's heart raced as he looked up, caught off guard by the sudden shift in Kieran's tone.
"You okay?" Kieran asked, his voice quiet but filled with genuine concern.
Zack nodded quickly, pulling his hand back and forcing a small smile. "Yeah. I'm fine."
Kieran didn't press further, though his expression remained thoughtful.
As they left the restaurant, Zack was acutely aware of the cameras waiting outside.
Kieran slipped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him through the crowd with practiced ease.
To anyone watching, they looked like a couple perfectly in sync. But inside, Zack's thoughts were anything but calm.
By the time they got back to Kieran's house, Zack was ready to collapse.
"You did great," Kieran said as they stepped inside.
"Thanks," Zack muttered, kicking off his shoes. "I think my face is stuck in a fake smile, though."
Kieran laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Get some rest. You earned it."
Zack nodded, but as he made his way to his room, he couldn't shake the memory of Kieran's hand brushing against his.
The line between fake and real was starting to blur again, and Zack wasn't sure how much longer he could keep pretending it didn't matter.
This isn't supposed to feel real. It's just a job. Just a performance.
So why does it feel like something more?