Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
In the blistering 110-degree summer heat, I was kicked out of the luxury celebrity apartments.
Inside, the reigning superstar Sean—the very man I’d been fake-dating for PR—was shouting furiously into his phone at our boss.
"With my current clout, do I look like I need a PR romance?!"
"Turning fiction into reality? Shoving her on my social media for six months was bad enough, but now you drop her right on my doorstep?!"
"Is this agency a matchmaking service? Why are you throwing every D-list nobody at me?!"
The call abruptly ended. The next second, my duffel bag was kicked out the front door, sending my belongings tumbling across the hallway floor.
I crouched down, gathering my things piece by piece.
Six months ago, desperate to pay for my mother’s emergency surgery, I used my looks to sign a three-year contract with the entertainment agency.
I thought I could grit my teeth and endure it, but I hadn't even lasted a year.
I reached into my pocket. I had thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents left to my name.
Right then, my phone chimed—another overdue payment alert from the hospital.
At my wit's end, I scrolled through my contacts. Finally, my only option was to text the guy I’d been secretly dating online for two years:
[I don't have a place to stay tonight. And I'm completely broke.]
He replied in seconds:
[Transfer: $1,000,000]
[Baby, come to my place. Quick. The spare key is right behind the fire hose cabinet.]
Following the GPS coordinates he sent, I walked for thirty minutes, drenched in sweat.
When I finally looked up, my jaw dropped.
It was the exact same luxury apartment building I had just been thrown out of.
Staring at the familiar golden gates, I questioned my entire existence.
The guy I’d been dating online for two years lived in this elite celebrity residence, too?
I refused to believe it.
Hauling my brutally heavy suitcase under the blazing sun, I circled the perimeter of the complex twice.
Yet the GPS pin stubbornly pointed right here.
My phone vibrated violently. It was a message from my online boyfriend, "Shay."
[Baby, are you there yet? Why does your location show you walking in circles downstairs?]
A surge of warmth hit my chest, followed by a wave of embarrassment.
I couldn’t exactly tell him I’d just been booted out by my PR partner and was currently wandering around like a homeless person.
I bit my lip and texted back: [The complex is huge. I can’t find the right entrance.]
He replied instantly: [Silly girl. Just scan the temporary visitor pass at the front desk. I’ll come down to meet you.]
Taking a deep breath, I decided to go inside.
Maybe the GPS was glitching, and he just lived in an adjacent wing.
I tapped the pass and hurried into the lobby.
A blast of cold AC washed over me, sending a violent shiver down my spine.
Over by the elevators, a tall, commanding figure was reflected in the metallic doors.
It was Sean.
He was dressed in the latest Gucci designer streetwear, wearing dark sunglasses, radiating that untouchable superstar aura.
Right now, he was staring at his phone, his lips curled into an extraordinarily gentle smile.
In the six months we had played a couple online, I had never once seen him smile like that.
Seeing him again made me instinctively slow my steps. The last thing I wanted was trouble.
But the elevator chimed, and when he looked up, our eyes locked.
The tenderness on his face vanished instantly, replaced by unfiltered disgust.
"What are you still doing here?"
Sean’s brow furrowed, his voice biting.
"Where’s security? Are we letting any stray dog wander in now?"
I tightened my grip on the handle of my suitcase, swallowing the lump in my throat.
"I’m not here for you. I’m here to visit a friend."
Sean scoffed, as if he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world.
"Keep spinning stories."
"A broke, D-list nobody like you knows an owner here?"
"Stalking me all the way to the elevator—what’s your next line? That you've had a change of heart and want to crawl into my bed?"
Trembling with rage, I pulled out my phone.
"I really have a friend living here! I can show you our chat logs!"
I frantically tapped the screen to prove my innocence.
Naturally, at that exact second, my screen flickered and went black. Overheated and damp with sweat, it had completely died.
No matter how many times I pressed the power button, there was zero response.
Sean glanced down at my dead phone, the contempt in his eyes deepening.
"Keep acting."
"Quite the little performance."
"Pulling a stunt this pathetic is honestly sickening."
Without another word, he pulled out his phone and dialed building management.
"This is Sean Hayes."
"A stalker followed me inside and is harassing me right by the elevators."
"Send security up immediately and throw her out."
My heart sank. In a high-end luxury complex, security moves fast.
Two minutes later, two burly security guards rushed over.
Ignoring my frantic explanations, they grabbed me by the arms and dragged me toward the exit.
"Let go of me! I'm really visiting someone!"
My struggles only made them hold tighter.
"Crash!"
I was shoved out the front doors.
My suitcase tumbled down the concrete steps, the zipper bursting open, spilling my clothes across the pavement once again.
The guard dusted off his hands and warned coldly, "Harass Mr. Hayes again, and we’re handing you straight to the police."
I collapsed onto the ground, humiliated, as tears finally spilled over.When I opened my eyes, all I saw was a stark white ceiling and the sharp stench of antiseptic.
I tried to move my fingers; an IV drip was taped to the back of my hand.
"You're awake?"
The voice came from my manager, David.
He was sitting in an armchair, scrolling through his phone with a thunderous expression.
"David..."
My throat felt raw and burned when I spoke.
"Don't 'David' me. I don't need your excuses."
David tossed his phone onto the bedside table.
"Maya, you really outdid yourself this time. Chasing Sean to his private elevator? What were you thinking?"
I struggled to sit up. "I wasn't chasing him. I was going to see a friend. He lives in that building too."
David rolled his eyes and let out a harsh laugh.
"Do you have any idea who lives in that tower?"
"Sean Hayes, and tech billionaires worth ten figures."
"You’re a D-lister who can barely make rent. You expect me to believe you have a friend on the penthouse floor?"
I bit my pale lip, utterly defenseless.
"Sean's team isn't letting this slide," David said, standing up and glaring down at me.
"His attorneys already sent a cease-and-desist. Stalking, harassment, and an immediate breach of the PR romance contract."
"The agency's top brass is furious. To calm down Sean’s fan base, they're terminating your contract."
The word "terminating" made my ears ring.
"Terminating?" My voice shook. "What about... the buyout penalty?"
"Three million dollars."
David delivered the number coldly.
"And for the record, I personally covered your hospital bill today."
"Maya, your career is dead."
David shook his head, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door.
"The agency says once you're discharged, you move straight into Block B. Consider it your final roof."
The door slammed shut.
I fell back onto the mattress, tears soaking into the pillow.
Three million dollars.
I couldn't even scrape together three thousand.
Right then, the phone beside my pillow vibrated.
It was my old phone, having revived after the nurse kindly plugged it into a charger.
The screen lit up.
The app icon displayed a red badge: "99+ unread messages."
All from the same person—"Shay."
[Baby, where are you? Why aren't you answering? Did you get heatstroke?]
[Where are you?! If you don't answer, I'm calling the police!]
[Why didn't you accept the transfer? Why did it bounce back?]
[Please don't scare me like this.]
Looking at those frantic texts, my frozen chest finally felt a spark of warmth.
On a day when my manager discarded me and the entire world treated me like trash...
There was still one person who treated me like his entire universe.
Sniffling, I typed back with trembling fingers.
[My phone died. Just got it working.]
The reply came almost instantaneously.
[You're finally back!]
[Do you have any idea how worried I was all night?! I nearly tore the whole neighborhood apart looking for you!]
[Don't ever disappear on me again, do you hear me?!]
Through the screen, I could almost picture him: eyes rimmed red, anxious, hurt, and frantic.
My heart softened. I typed back: [I know. I won't do it again.]
In that fleeting moment, all the cruelty Sean had inflicted on me seemed to fade.
As long as Shay was there, I felt like I could survive.
Three days later, I was discharged.
The agency didn't send a car. I dragged my broken suitcase—held together by layers of duct tape—back to the residential complex.
The property was divided into Block A and Block B.
Block A was the ultra-luxury tower for A-list elites, glittering and heavily guarded.
Block B consisted of cramped studios for washed-up acts and trainees, with peeling paint and hallways smelling of stale takeout.
I was assigned a tiny studio on the fourteenth floor of Block B.
It had just enough room for a single bed and a cheap wardrobe.
I walked over and pushed open the window.
From this angle, I had an unobstructed view right into Block A across the way.
The two buildings were so close you could practically see the clothes hanging on the balconies.
My eyes drifted up to the penthouse duplex at the very top.
That was Sean's place.
Night fell, and a light flickered on behind his floor-to-ceiling windows.
Staring at that glow, an unsettling thought crept into my mind.
I took out my phone and messaged Shay: [Shay, what color is the lighting in your living room?]
Two seconds later, his reply popped up.
[Warm amber. Super bright. Bright enough to keep you safe.]
My head snapped up.
My gaze pierced through the darkness, landing squarely on the penthouse windows across from me.
The light shining from inside was glowing warm amber.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I shook my head.
I had to be losing my mind.
Sean was an arrogant, cold-blooded, sharp-tongued superstar.
How on earth could he be the same sweet guy who called me "baby" every night and tried to send me a million dollars?Over the following days, hospital bills and contract termination notices weighed on me like mountains.
My mother was still in the ICU, burning through cash by the hour.
Desperate for money, I signed onto the most humiliating reality show in the industry, "Extreme Survival".
What I didn't expect was to overhear Sean's voice outside the green room.
"Sean, tone it down," his manager, Rachel, was saying. "Maya is already getting dragged through the mud online. Don't push her off a cliff."
"She brought this on herself. Who cares?" Sean's voice was like ice.
"Her fans and yours still overlap from the PR stunt. Can't you at least play nice for the cameras?" Rachel sighed.
"Play nice with her? Is she worthy?" Sean scoffed. "Six months ago, if the label hadn't forced me into that fake romance and handled all the promo, do you think I would've agreed?"
He sneered. "A woman who'll do anything for fame... Looking at her makes me sick."
Standing outside the door, my fingernails dug so hard into the drywall that my cuticles bled.
"Sean Hayes, you really are ruthless."
Six months ago, when our PR romance started, he hadn’t seemed this cold.
Now I realized: every single sweet message from back then had been typed by his PR team.
My chest tightened painfully. Right then, Shay sent a message.
[Baby, are you tired from work today? I ordered your favorite food to your place.]
I took a deep breath, pocketed my phone, and pushed the door open.
During filming, we were thrown into a mud pit challenge.
Chloe, a rising starlet, intentionally shoved me from behind.
I slammed face-first into the mud, filthy and humiliated.
"Oh gosh, Maya, I'm so sorry! Total accident!" Chloe giggled, covering her mouth.
The director didn't yell cut. Drama meant views.
"Get up. Stop playing dead," Sean called out from the edge of the pit, looking down at me with pure disdain. "Maya, if you can't even handle a simple game, crawl back to Block B!"
Every camera swung to focus on my face.
I wiped the muddy water from my eyes and dragged myself up without a word.
For my mother's medical bills, I could take it.
During the break, I hid in a secluded corner to wipe the mud off my face.
Sean was sitting near his vanity trailer not far away, staring down at his phone.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed.
[Baby, I just had to deal with someone I despise. My mood is completely ruined.]
[But thinking of you makes everything better.]
Instinctively, I looked up at Sean.
His long fingers were tapping furiously across his screen.
What stopped my breath, though, was his hand.
As he typed, his left index finger rhythmically tapped his thigh twice.
It was a subconscious habit.
The exact same habit shown in a video Shay had sent me months ago. Shay had filmed his hands unboxing a gift, tapping his left index finger twice against his leg in the exact same rhythm.
My heart skipped a beat.
"No. Impossible."
"There is no way Sean is Shay."
To test it, my hands shook as I typed a message to Shay:
[Shay, what are you doing right now? Can you sing something for me?]
I kept my eyes glued to Sean.
One second.
Two seconds.
Sean suddenly paused, ran an annoyed hand through his hair, and turned to say something to his assistant.
The assistant immediately hurried away.
A few seconds later, my phone chimed with an audio message.
I pressed play.
"Baby, I'm outside right now and it's pretty loud. Let me sing for you when I get home tonight, okay?"
The voice was run through a pitch modifier, buzzing with light digital static.
Yet that lazy, low cadence matched Sean's real-life tone with his assistant down to the syllable.
I froze on the spot.
The dream boyfriend who had kept me company for two years, checking in on me every single day, trying to wire me a million dollars...
Was the exact same arrogant monster who had shoved me into the mud and demanded three million dollars in damages.
Staring at my phone screen, a silent, hollow laugh tore through me.
Tears mixed with mud dripped down my chin.
"Sean... oh, Sean."
"You hate me so much, don't you?"
"I wonder what your face will look like when you realize the 'baby' you've treasured for two years is the very woman you destroyed with your own hands."To be absolutely certain Sean was Shay, I needed undeniable proof.
Filming resumed.
Sean returned to the set and took off his jacket.
Around his right wrist was a red, hand-woven bracelet.
I had spent weeks making that by hand, mailing it to Shay for our one-year anniversary.
Embroidered into the cord with fine silver thread were two tiny initials: "M" and "S."
"It really was him."
Before the shock could settle, Chloe walked over holding a bucket of ice water.
"Wake up a little, Maya," she sneered, tossing the entire bucket straight into my face.
The freezing water knocked the breath out of me, leaving me shivering violently.
The crew watched from the sidelines. Not a single person stepped in.
Sean sat in his chair, watching with cold indifference.
"Stop playing the victim. It’s pathetic," he muttered, turning his gaze away in disgust.
Right at that moment, my phone buzzed incessantly in my pocket.
I pulled it out to find trending notifications blowing up Ins:
#MayaCheating
#TruthBehindMayaAndSeanBreakup
To protect Sean’s pristine image, the agency had leaked fabricated chat logs to tabloids.
They were full of explicit, flirtatious texts supposedly between me and various men while I was "dating" Sean.
The internet was in an uproar.
[Maya is disgusting! How dare she betray Sean!]
[No wonder Sean can't stand her. Blacklist this trash!]
Staring at the horrific comments, my hands shook violently.
Then, an unknown local number flashed across my screen.
It was the ICU doctor.
"Maya, your mother's vitals are crashing. We need to perform emergency surgery right now."
"Your account is empty, and we've already halted the medication."
"You must settle the $500,000 surgical fee within the hour, or you need to prepare for the worst."
The doctor's words made the world spin.
Ignoring the mud and ice dripping from my hair, I frantically dialed David.
"David, please, I'm begging you! Advance me $500,000! My mom needs emergency surgery right now!"
David scoffed over the line.
"Five hundred thousand? Are you dreaming?"
"You're radioactive right now. You owe the company millions. You're not getting a single cent."
He hung up. When I tried to call back, the line went dead. He had blocked me.
Panicking, staring around the set, my last shred of hope forced me to text Shay:
[Shay, are you there? Please, I’m begging you, save my mom.]
Suddenly, a commotion erupted by the outdoor pool.
During a challenge, Sean had lost his footing and fallen into the water.
His phone had gone in with him.
"It won't turn on! Take it to an authorized tech right now!" Sean barked, shoving the soaked phone into his assistant's hands.
My heart sank. Shay wouldn't be seeing my messages.
Desperation drove me mad. Thinking of my mother, I rushed straight toward Sean.
"Sean, please! Lend me $500,000!"
"I'll sign whatever you want! I'll be your slave, I'll work for free for the rest of my life!"
Sean shoved me away with pure revulsion.
"Maya, have you no shame?"
"Pulling lowlife stunts like this for money?"
I broke down, screaming through ragged sobs.
"Sean! It's me! I'm Minnie!"
"I'm the Minnie who spent the last two years with you online!"
"The red bracelet on your wrist—I made that for you! You called me baby every single night! Have you forgotten?!"
The entire cast and crew froze.
Sean paused for half a second before his face twisted into deep rage.
"Maya, you're out of your mind!"
"To leach off my fame, you dug into my private life and concocted this sick lie?!"
"My Minnie is gentle, kind, and sweet. She isn't a lying, cheating piece of garbage like you!"
He whipped out a voice recorder from his bag and pressed record.
"Go ahead, keep talking. I'm posting this online so everyone can see what a delusional psycho you are."
I shook my head frantically, tears streaming down my face.
"I'm not lying! You have a beauty mark on your left collarbone, and for our anniversary, you sent me—"
"Shut up! Security, get this crazy woman out of here!" Sean roared.
Half an hour later, Sean posted the recording directly to his Ins.
Caption: [Disgusting. Stay the hell away from me.]
The internet erupted. The vitriol aimed at me reached a fever pitch.
[Maya is crazy for clout! Claiming she’s his online girlfriend?!]
[Why hasn't this parasite disappeared from the face of the earth?]
Just then, my phone rang again.
It was the doctor.
"Maya... I'm so sorry. Your mother has passed."
The phone slipped from my numb fingers, landing softly in the mud.
My mom was dead.
The only tether tying me to this earth had snapped.
Like an empty shell, I stumbled toward the freezing river beside the filming lot.
This world was too vile. I couldn't do this anymore.
Meanwhile, at the premier electronics repair center downtown.
Sean slammed his hand onto the counter, pacing frantically.
"Is it fixed yet?! I'll double your fee!"
He hadn't heard from his "baby" in hours, and he was losing his mind with worry.
The technician finally handed the device back. "All done, Mr. Hayes. The logic board is fully restored."
Sean snatched the phone, powered it on, and immediately opened the app.
At the very top of his pinned chats, there were two unread messages.
The moment he read them, the ground beneath his feet crumbled.
[Shay, are you there? Please, I’m begging you, save my mom.]
[It's Maya.]
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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