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formulafanfics13 · 30 days ago

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All Eyes On Me - Chapter 21

Masterlist

Disclaimer:

This fanfic will contain mature themes and topics (smut, abuse, power imbalance, drug use, alcohol dependency, control, and eating disorders). There will not be warnings throughout, so if you proceed with this fic, please bear this in mind!

The sky was grey as the SUVs rolled up to the private jet, the same VS-branded blush-pink trim glimmering faintly under the morning haze. The crew moved efficiently, bags loaded, flight manifest signed, everything perfectly choreographed. Karen stood beside the stairs, clipboard in hand. Julia just behind her. David off to the side, speaking with security.

The girls arrived. Gigi, oversized sunglasses covering her face, sleek VS travel sweats, coffee in hand. Lila, leaning against the stair rail casually, her sharp eyes flicking toward every arriving car like she was hunting for drama. Taylor and Barbara, standing side by side, perfectly styled in matching loungewear sets, already scrolling through their phones. But when Martha stepped out of the SUV, everything shifted. She moved carefully - too carefully. Her oversized hoodie swallowed her frame, hood pulled up, thick sunglasses hiding her face. But the stiffness in her walk, the shallow breaths, and the way she cradled her arms across her chest told them everything before she even got close.

The ribs. The eye. The lip. Another round. One of the worst. The girls' faces didn't change, not dramatically. They were trained for this too. But every single one of them clocked it immediately. The eye under the glasses. The way she protected her ribs when stepping up. The faint tremble in her hands when she adjusted her carry-on strap.

Gigi moved first. She stepped forward, softly brushing Martha's arm as she approached, a small touch of grounding, of silent comfort. "You okay for the flight?" Gigi whispered, low enough that only Martha could hear.

Martha kept her voice steady. "I'm fine."

Gigi nodded. She didn't push. She never pushed. Lila watched from the stairs, sharp as always. Her jaw tightened slightly but she kept her tone breezy when Martha reached her. "Looks like someone didn't get their full eight hours," Lila said with a soft smile, playing the part in case anyone nearby was listening.

Martha let out a tiny exhale that might've been a laugh if it didn't hurt so much. "Didn't sleep great."

Barbara and Taylor followed suit. Soft smiles. Supportive nods. No questions. Because they already knew the answers. They'd all lived versions of it. Different faces. Same rules.

As they boarded the jet, Julia and Karen exchanged the briefest glance behind their tablets.

Karen murmured softly under her breath, almost mechanical. "She's okay."

Julia nodded.

Martha sank carefully into her chair, her breathing shallow, adjusting the rib binder beneath her hoodie discreetly. Gigi slipped into the seat beside her, legs crossed, sunglasses still on, but hand lightly resting on Martha's forearm. Lila, Taylor, and Barbara filled the cabin with light conversation about Miami fittings, press content, and swimwear, but the tension sat under every word. Because they all knew.

The jet engines roared to life, and the plane began taxiing. Another city. Another week. Another performance. But this time, Jacob was coming too. And the girls? They were preparing. Quietly. Together.

***

Thursday morning was hot, the girls had been in Miami for 36 hours, Tuesday was a nice rest and Wednesday was a full training day. But today, the heat was already pressing down as the blacked-out SUVs pulled up one after another, rolling into the back private entrance of the paddock.

The girls stepped out in their usual perfect formation. Gigi, Taylor, Barbara, and Lila, all in their custom Miami gymwear: tiny cropped tops, pastel pink high-waisted leggings, slick ponytails, oversized sunglasses, their bodies flawless and glowing under the Florida sun. And then came Martha, stepping out slowly, moving carefully, as she always did when the pain was still fresh beneath the cover-up.

But unlike the others, Martha's outfit had been carefully, clinically adjusted by Julia and Karen Baggy oversized Victoria's Secret cropped hoodie. High-waisted shorts that showed just enough leg for optics but gave her room to breathe. Sunglasses larger than usual, covering the faint discolouration still blooming beneath her left eye.

The black eye was still there. The bruising couldn't be fully hidden anymore. But no one outside the circle would call it out.

The drivers were already scattered throughout the paddock as the girls made their entrance. Lando's eyes darted to Martha immediately as she stepped out. His brow twitched slightly but he swallowed his reaction, forcing his usual grin when Oscar nudged him about tonight's sponsor party. Lewis caught sight of her from across the Mercedes hospitality entrance. His jaw tensed instinctively because he saw it instantly, just like he always did. Charles, Pierre, and George noticed too, exchanging the briefest side-eyes as they pretended to stay locked in their own conversations with engineers. No one said anything. They never did.

As the group was guided further into the paddock, they passed the cluster of team principals already gathered outside the FIA meeting rooms, Toto's eyes flicked toward Martha immediately, narrowing slightly as he registered the baggy clothes, the oversized sunglasses, the guarded way she moved. Fred watched carefully, lips pressed thin. Zak gave the faintest nod of greeting as the girls passed but his gaze lingered just long enough to register the quiet shift in Martha's usual presentation. Christian glanced briefly before returning to his conversation, but even he caught the shift.

They all remembered the whispers. The rumors. The quiet, half-finished conversations from the last few weeks.

The room was cool, professional, and designed for these private paddock briefings where the campaign managers, team principals, and selected drivers received their weekend schedules.

David stood at the front, clipboard in hand, as the girls filed in and took their seats along the back wall, their management standing close behind them.

Stefano stood beside him, offering his usual politically perfect welcome as everyone settled.

"Gentlemen, ladies, thank you as always for your cooperation. We've had excellent engagement leading into Miami. This weekend will follow standard procedure, controlled content, limited paddock access during race prep, and final media activations ahead of Monaco."

David flipped his page with that faint, practiced smile. "But before we finalise schedules," He paused, his voice still calm. "One last thing."

The entire room shifted ever so slightly. Everyone's attention turned toward him.

David continued without hesitation. "We will have a guest joining us this weekend," he said smoothly. "Martha's partner will be accompanying her to Miami."

The temperature dropped one degree in the room.

David's voice remained warm. Rehearsed. Unflinching. "Jacob will not interfere with campaign operations. He'll be under Paul's direct supervision while in the paddock and hospitality zones. I simply ask that everyone extend the usual courtesy and professionalism."

He smiled faintly. "We trust this will not be a distraction."

Toto's jaw flexed. His mind immediately flashing back to that medical room, to the management's quiet cover-ups, to the black eye now hiding behind Martha's sunglasses. Lewis exhaled sharply through his nose but stayed silent. Fred's lips pressed together. A low, uncomfortable tightness settling in his chest. Zak nodded once but didn't speak. Christian glanced quickly at the other principals, reading the tension but keeping his face perfectly neutral.

The drivers glanced between each other, none of them brave enough to ask the question that hung silently in every one of their minds: Why is he here?

David's smile never shifted. Karen and Julia stood just behind him, expressionless but locked in, because this was already managed.

Jacob was coming. And they would all pretend, just like always.

The air in the paddock thickened the moment Jacob's SUV rolled to a stop at the back entrance. Even with the Miami sun scorching above, there was a strange chill that followed as the door opened and he stepped out.

He looked polished, of course. He always did. The perfect image of control, wearing a crisp white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled just enough to expose his carefully curated collection of expensive watches and thin gold bracelets. His sunglasses reflected the swarm of cameras already flashing as his arrival was immediately clocked by every lens in the area. He smiled easily, as though he belonged here, as though this world wasn't new to him at all.

Paul stepped out behind him, stiff and quietly alert. His job wasn't to guard Jacob. His job was to guard everyone else from him. And everyone in the paddock who understood what was happening beneath the surface knew exactly why Paul was there. He would stay with Jacob for every second of the weekend. That had been the deal. The management's version of control. Their compromise. Their leash.

They moved together through the growing crowd. The paddock gates slid open as security cleared their path. Jacob walked like he owned the place already, his stride confident, eyes scanning briefly before landing exactly where he wanted to be.

The models were waiting near the hospitality suite entrance.

Gigi saw him first, immediately straightening her posture. Her mouth smiled but her eyes didn't. Taylor, standing just behind her, offered a faint nod as Lila slipped on her signature half-smirk, her own personal armor. Barbara barely blinked, her expression neutral, practiced. And then there was Martha, standing dead center, as she always did, a picture of composure wrapped in loose, strategically oversized clothing that still couldn't fully hide what was healing beneath.

Her sunglasses stayed on. She smiled.

Jacob's smile widened, too perfect to be real, too rehearsed not to set off alarms in anyone who was paying attention. As he reached them, he slipped an arm casually around Martha's waist, pulling her close with a fluid motion that suggested intimacy, devotion, protection.

To the cameras behind them, it was the image of a perfect couple reunited. To those standing close enough to see her body stiffen beneath his hand, it was something far more sinister.

He pressed his lips to the side of her head, kissing her softly, lingering there just long enough to make sure every photographer nearby captured it. The illusion was complete. Perfection. "My girl," he whispered against her temple, his voice syrupy smooth.

Martha's smile never shifted. She didn't flinch, didn't move, didn't react to the heat of his palm pressing slightly too firmly into the fragile ribs beneath her sweatshirt. She only whispered back, calm and sweet, "Hi, baby."

It was a scene built for public consumption. Carefully orchestrated. Another image for the brand. Another piece of content that management wouldn't need to censor because it would play exactly the way they needed it to.

David stood several feet away, watching. Julia stood beside him, her tablet in hand, expression neutral but her sharp eyes never leaving Jacob's grip. Karen hovered close behind the girls, monitoring. Logging. Calculating.

The drivers, scattered in small clusters nearby, glanced toward the interaction with guarded curiosity. Lando's stare lingered a beat too long before Oscar nudged his arm to pull his attention away. Pierre and Charles exchanged a brief look, unspeaking but silently acknowledging everything the image implied. Lewis stood further back, lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line, though his gaze followed Jacob like a tracking system.

And Toto. Toto watched it all with the same sharp stillness that had made him one of the most feared strategists on the grid. His eyes never left Martha's body language, how stiff her spine stayed under Jacob's arm, how carefully she kept her balance, how her head barely tilted under the weight of that kiss. He saw it. All of it. And though he said nothing, his jaw flexed ever so slightly.

The moment lingered like fog. Thick. Heavy.

Then Paul stepped slightly forward, standing just behind Jacob's left shoulder, his presence unspoken but very present. His watchful eyes scanned the surrounding space. Always nearby. Always ready.

Jacob finally turned his attention to the others, still smiling that performative, toothy grin. "Pleasure to finally be here with you all. I've heard nothing but good things."

The girls responded in unison, their tones light, polite, perfectly rehearsed.

"Glad you made it," Gigi offered smoothly.

"Welcome to the chaos," Taylor added with a soft laugh.

"Hope you enjoy the weekend," Lila said, her smile charming but hollow.

Barbara offered only a nod, sipping from her VS-branded water bottle.

Martha stayed perfectly still beneath Jacob's hand, still smiling as though nothing in the world was wrong.

The paddock buzzed around them, cameras flashing, team personnel filtering by, but in the eye of it all stood the most dangerous image of the entire weekend: perfection at its most terrifying.

The monster had arrived. And for now, the show would continue.

David gave a small nod toward Jacob and stepped slightly forward, clearing his throat softly. His voice was light, professional, as always, but edged with the sharpness of a man who knew how delicate this moment was.

"Since you're officially with us this weekend," David said, projecting just enough to pull in the attention of the surrounding drivers and team principals, "let me make some introductions."

Jacob smiled immediately, his face lighting up with that perfect, artificial charm that always landed so well in public. He stepped forward slightly, his arm still draped protectively around Martha's waist as though she was a handbag or accessory being presented for the occasion.

The group of men shifted, the circle tightening slightly. David began his introductions, his voice steady and smooth, running down the names like a perfectly rehearsed script. "This is Christian Horner, Red Bull Racing."

Jacob extended his hand smoothly, smiling. "Pleasure, Christian. Beautiful operation you've built."

Christian shook his hand with a thin smile, replying politely. "We try."

"Fred Vasseur, Scuderia Ferrari."

"Fred, I've heard a lot of good things. Always a pleasure to meet men running the sharp end of this sport."

Fred's eyes narrowed just the slightest as he shook Jacob's hand. "Welcome to the circus."

"Zak Brown, McLaren."

"Zak. Finally great to meet the man keeping the sport's future interesting."

Zak nodded, smiling his usual PR smile, saying nothing further.

"Gunther Steiner, Haas."

Jacob chuckled as they shook hands. "I'll admit, I've seen the show. Entertaining as hell."

Gunther gave the faintest smirk, already studying Jacob like a puzzle.

"And of course, Toto Wolff, Mercedes."

Jacob's eyes locked on Toto for a beat longer. His handshake was firm, just slightly tighter than necessary, a quiet challenge dressed as courtesy. "Toto. I've heard my girl's been spending quite a bit of time with you in your garage."

Toto's face remained unreadable, voice perfectly even as they shook. "She's been a great addition to the paddock experience. Quick learner."

Jacob smiled wider, squeezing Martha's waist slightly tighter. "She always is."

For a moment, their eyes held. Quiet, loaded, electric. Lewis, standing nearby, watched the entire interaction carefully, his jaw flexing as his eyes flicked from Jacob's hand on Martha's waist to the tightness behind her sunglasses.

Then David smoothly shifted attention to the drivers clustered nearby, keeping everything flowing as the photographers hovered.

Jacob turned, extending that same perfectly calculated charm. "Lewis, Lando, Charles, Pierre, George, Max, Daniel..." He smiled warmly as he greeted each man by name. "It's good to finally put faces to the names I keep hearing from Martha."

Each driver shook his hand. All polite. All professional. All watching. All understanding, at least on some level, exactly how heavy the air had gotten.

Jacob studied them each with quiet precision, sizing them up like opponents in a room he didn't fully trust, calculating where threats might live, where weakness might show. But never once breaking the pleasant mask.

Paul stepped forward once the rounds of introductions wrapped, his voice calm but present. "If you're ready, Mr. Elordi, we can take you for a full paddock tour. Get you familiar with the zones you'll have access to this weekend."

Jacob smiled and patted Martha's hip before releasing her. "Perfect." His eyes flicked to her softly. "I'll see you soon, angel."

Martha smiled back with that exact same performative grace she'd mastered. "Of course, baby."

As Jacob followed Paul away, the tension didn't ease. If anything, it sharpened in his absence, like a storm cloud pulling just out of view while everyone waited for the inevitable lightning strike.

Toto's gaze followed him for a long beat after he left.

Lewis finally spoke under his breath, just loud enough for Toto to hear. "This isn't going to stay contained much longer."

Toto's jaw flexed. "No. It won't."

Behind them, David turned back toward Julia and Karen, his voice dropping so low only they could hear him. "Now we hold it together."

And the paddock? The paddock kept spinning. But Miami had officially shifted. Because Jacob wasn't just here now. He was inside.

The sun continued to climb as the paddock locked into its first full workday with Jacob now fully present. His introductions had already been made, his tour with Paul completed. The drivers knew him. The team principals had shaken his hand. The cameras had caught enough smiling footage to fill every PR package for the next month. And still, the weight of his presence only seemed to grow heavier with every passing hour.

The girls moved like professionals, as always. Their movements perfectly timed, their smiles sharp and fluid, their words rehearsed. But every time they shifted to a new content zone or walked between garages, Jacob was never far behind. His tall frame moved just out of every official camera shot, but always close enough to be felt. And Paul followed him like a ghost, eyes constantly sweeping, expression unreadable.

Martha stayed flawless. But the drivers saw the difference now. They noticed the way her posture tightened when Jacob's hand rested on her lower back for too long. The way her smile froze a little harder when Jacob whispered something against her ear between filming takes. The way she only spoke when directly addressed, her voice slightly softer than usual.

Lando pretended to review tire data on a monitor when he caught Jacob watching him from across the McLaren garage. Their eyes met briefly, and Lando quickly looked away, pretending to speak with Oscar instead.

Pierre, lingering at the Red Bull hospitality with Charles and Daniel, shook his head slightly under his breath as Jacob passed nearby again.

"He's watching every move," Pierre muttered to Charles, voice low.

Charles nodded, not taking his eyes off Jacob. "Martha's doing everything perfectly but... you can feel it."

Daniel kept his tone light, but his jaw clenched. "He's circling like a fucking predator."

The team principals watched too. Toto saw every interaction from the Mercedes garage, quiet but locked in. Fred followed Jacob's pacing from Ferrari's hospitality, never addressing it aloud, but fully calculating. Even Zak, usually more diplomatic, watched the pattern forming with growing discomfort.

David, Julia, and Karen maintained their usual posts. They spoke to sponsors, oversaw the content teams, reviewed social media metrics in real time, but never once took their eyes fully off Jacob. Not because they didn't trust him. Because they knew exactly what he was.

The drivers went through their press briefings, nodding politely when the models floated through between sessions for social content. But every glance toward Martha now came with the weight of everything unsaid.

By late afternoon, the entire paddock was humming with a strange kind of collective breath-hold. Nothing had technically gone wrong. No scenes. No arguments. No breakdowns. The campaign was still executing flawlessly. The social metrics were climbing. The sponsors were happy.

But every person inside that paddock knew something now that they hadn't fully seen before Jacob arrived. This was no longer a rumor. It was real. It was right in front of them. And the silence hanging over it only made it heavier. The paddock rolled on. But the air was getting harder to breathe.

The hotel suite was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. The Miami skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting fractured lights across the polished marble floors. The day was over. The public was satisfied. The illusion had held.

Martha stood near the long vanity, carefully pulling the pins from her hair, letting the long dark waves fall loose down her back. The ache in her ribs was sharp tonight, more than usual after the long day on her feet, but she didn't show it. She never showed it. She'd perfected the ability to move like nothing hurt.

Behind her, Jacob sat relaxed on the edge of the king-sized bed, shirt sleeves rolled up, a glass of whiskey resting in his hand. His shoes were already off. His whole posture radiated satisfaction. Pride. Ownership. "You were good today," he said softly, voice smooth, floating easily across the room.

Martha kept her eyes on her reflection, her voice light. "Thank you."

Jacob watched her closely. "No mistakes. No stupid smiling at the wrong people. No leaning too close to anyone." His tone wasn't teasing, not really. It was too controlled for that. It was his version of approval. The dangerous kind.

Martha nodded once, slipping out of her earrings and placing them carefully into the velvet-lined tray.

"I did what I was supposed to do," she replied softly.

"You always do." Jacob's voice lowered, that syrupy edge curling into something heavier. "That's why I'm here. To make sure you stay exactly like this."

She felt his eyes tracing her every move as she moved to unzip her fitted jacket, careful not to twist too far and aggravate the bruising still pulsing beneath her skin.

Jacob stood slowly, setting his glass down on the side table as he stepped behind her. His hands landed gently on her hips, his fingers curling lightly into the fabric, applying just enough pressure to make her ribs ache beneath the contact.

Martha kept breathing evenly.

"You make them all stare," he murmured against her ear. "Every one of them. Those drivers. Those team bosses. Even that fucking Wolff."

She didn't respond. She knew better.

Jacob's hand slid from her hip to her stomach, flattening against the faint outline of the bandage still wrapped tightly beneath her clothes. His palm pressed lightly, almost tender, but she felt the message loud and clear in the weight behind it.

"But you remember who you belong to," he whispered.

"Always," Martha whispered back automatically, the words flowing as easily as breathing.

Jacob smiled softly against her temple, his breath warm on her skin. His hand flattened fully against her bruised ribs for a moment longer, testing her pain beneath the affection, before he finally let go.

"You're doing good," he repeated, softer now. "Keep it that way. And this trip will stay easy."

Martha nodded, lowering her head slightly, her voice almost too soft to hear. "I will."

Jacob kissed the side of her head again, just like in the paddock earlier. Just like for the cameras. An illusion. Polished. Practiced.

The suite lights were dim now, casting soft amber glows across the marble floors and the sprawling bed where they both laid.

Martha's head rested lightly on Jacob's chest, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles along her bare arm. The silence was thick, but different than before. His anger had burned off hours ago. Now, this was Jacob's other side, the side that always came after.

His free hand brushed her hair softly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. The kind of kiss that made it look — even feel — like he adored her. And for this moment, maybe he did.

"You looked beautiful today, you know that?" he whispered against her hair.

Martha stayed quiet, breathing slow against him, letting him speak. Because this was part of the routine too. The comfort phase. The one that made staying feel like surviving.

"I know I get... intense." His voice was lower now, gentler. "But you make me crazy, baby. You walk into those places and every man in that fucking paddock wants you. They stare at you like you belong to them."

His fingers slipped beneath the edge of her oversized sleep shirt, slowly running across the warm skin of her stomach. The touch was soft, warm. It didn't hurt this time.

"But you don't," he whispered, his tone melting into something softer, almost worshipful. "You're mine."

She nodded faintly, instinctively, her breath hitching just slightly as his hand traveled lower, his palm resting lightly between her legs. There was no pressure yet, just the contact, the claim. The illusion of intimacy. The seduction of power masquerading as love.

"You're mine," he repeated softly, pressing another kiss to her temple. "And I protect what's mine."

Martha closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling carefully against his side. His hand moved delicately, fingers lightly stroking through the thin fabric as his breath warmed her ear.

"No one will ever love you like I do," he murmured. "They don't understand you. They never will. But I do."

Her lips parted, voice barely above a breath. "I know."

Jacob exhaled slowly, his hand gently sliding further, his touch coaxing rather than forcing now, rewarding rather than punishing. It was this, this side of him, that made everything harder to escape. The softness after the storm. The lie that felt like safety. The comfort that always followed the bruises.

"You're such a good girl for me," he whispered, the words threading through her bloodstream like a drug. "My perfect girl."

Martha's heart pounded quietly beneath her ribs, both from pain and from the dangerous comfort of hearing him sound like this. The man she'd once fallen for. The man she kept trying to please.

And like always, she whispered back exactly what he wanted to hear. "I'll always be your girl."

Jacob smiled, satisfied, pressing another soft kiss to her cheek, his hand still exploring with slow, possessive affection. His rage was gone for now. Replaced with something far more lethal.

His hand moved gently beneath her sleep shirt, fingertips grazing over her stomach, tracing the lines of her ribs, the swell of her hips, the tender bruises hidden beneath the fabric. His touch was light, like he was trying not to hurt her, but Martha knew better. This wasn't about protecting her. This was about keeping her compliant. Keeping her his.

His breath was warm against her skin as he kissed her shoulder, his lips soft and careful like he was apologizing without ever having to say the words. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice nothing but air against her neck. "No one gets to see you like this but me."

Martha's breath hitched slightly, her body already tense but trained to relax under his touch. This part was easier. Safer. If she gave him what he wanted now, it kept him calm. Gentle Jacob was always better than the version she knew lived just under the surface.

Jacob shifted slightly, pressing himself against her from behind as his hand slid lower, fingertips brushing between her thighs, coaxing her open with slow, careful strokes. He wasn't in a rush. Not tonight.

Martha exhaled quietly, eyes still closed, her body responding automatically to his touch even as her mind remained distant, floating somewhere above it.

Jacob pressed another soft kiss to the back of her shoulder, voice still that low, intimate murmur that always made her feel like she was being wrapped in velvet. "Let me take care of you," he whispered. "You deserve it, my girl."

She didn't respond. She didn't need to. Her silence was permission enough. He shifted behind her again, guiding himself into her slowly, carefully. There was no aggression, no force. Just a slow, deliberate slide as he filled her inch by inch, pressing into the warmth of her body like he was savoring it.

Martha's lips parted on a soft breath, the dull ache in her ribs pulsing under the movement but not enough to stop him, not enough to stop this. It was always like this afterward. Gentle. Sweet. The dangerous illusion that made her believe, if only for a moment, that maybe he really did love her.

Jacob groaned softly against her skin as he settled fully inside her, his hand gripping her hip lightly to keep her steady. His pace stayed slow, his thrusts measured and careful, rocking them gently as his breath grew heavier against her ear. "You're perfect," he whispered again, like a mantra. "My perfect girl."

Martha whispered the words she was trained to say, the words that kept him calm, kept him gentle. "Always yours."

He moved with her, the soft sound of skin against skin filling the otherwise silent suite. The tenderness of it all felt almost like comfort, like the thing she was constantly chasing through every violent outburst and apology. This is what he would point to when he told her later that he loved her. This is what she would use to convince herself it wasn't always so bad.

Jacob's hand slipped around her waist, holding her gently as his rhythm stayed slow and controlled, hips rolling in fluid waves that made her legs tremble beneath him. His kisses never stopped, soft presses of lips against her skin, branding her without bruising her this time.

"I love you," he whispered against her ear, his voice full of dangerous devotion.

Martha closed her eyes tighter, letting the words wash over her, letting herself believe it just enough to survive another day.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

And for a little while, everything was quiet again. The storm would always return. But tonight, the eye of it was deceptively calm.

***

The sun was already beating heavily against the asphalt as the paddock slipped into its Friday morning routine. FP1 was only an hour away, but the grid had fully woken up, the air thick with the usual buzz of mechanics prepping, engineers analysing tire data, media teams scurrying to capture content before the sessions began.

But today, the energy was different. It had been different since Jacob arrived.

Martha walked beside him through the paddock gates, her hand lightly held in his, the picture of a peaceful, supportive couple. His fingers laced through hers with just enough pressure to look loving from a distance, but those watching more closely knew better. It was a grip disguised as affection.

Jacob smiled as they walked. He nodded politely at staff and crew passing by, his sunglasses shielding his calculating eyes. His voice was soft when he leaned down occasionally to whisper something against Martha's temple, nothing harsh, nothing sharp, just low, intimate words that played perfectly for any cameras still lingering nearby.

Martha smiled back at him. She played the role so flawlessly now it almost looked genuine. And in a way, it was. After last night, after the softness, the praise, the gentleness, Jacob was calm. This was the version of him that everyone outside the walls always saw. The side that made it harder for anyone to believe the whispers.

The girls followed in formation behind them as the group was guided further into the paddock. Gigi in powder pink, Barbara in ice white, Taylor in sleek navy, Lila in soft lilac. All of them perfect, all of them clocking Martha's movements, Jacob's touches, and every unspoken word in between.

Karen and Julia walked a few steps behind with David, speaking quietly with one of the FIA coordinators. Their job today wasn't to manage content. It was to manage Jacob.

The drivers watched too, most of them from subtle corners, from the garages where engineers pulled up race plans and tire compound data. Lewis and Toto stood at the edge of Mercedes hospitality, eyes locked on the couple as they passed. Lewis didn't speak. He didn't need to. His jaw clenched just slightly. Toto exhaled slowly beside him, his eyes colder than usual.

Christian, standing outside Red Bull hospitality, made brief eye contact with Fred as Jacob walked by. Both men said nothing, but the glance was full of weight.

The whispers had grown thicker now. Quiet sentences passed between crew members, engineers, media personnel, even junior drivers in the background. No one said anything openly, but the words moved like smoke through the paddock.

The models were quickly swept into their assigned locations for FP1, the campaign's next wave of content still perfectly on schedule.

Martha was led toward McLaren, her hand slipping from Jacob's as Paul quietly redirected him toward the VIP area where he'd be stationed for the session. Jacob didn't resist. He let go easily, kissing Martha's forehead once before Paul guided him away.

"You'll do great, angel," Jacob whispered with a soft smile.

Martha smiled, nodding like she always did. "Of course."

Jacob's hand lingered on her hip for a second longer before releasing her, letting her step forward toward her designated garage. Once she was out of his reach, her smile flattened ever so slightly as she joined the McLaren engineers beside Andrea Stella, who offered her the usual polite greeting.

The other girls split off smoothly as well. Gigi was led to Sauber, Barbara to Ferrari, Taylor to Alpine, and Lila to VCARB. Each one moved into position as though this was any other weekend, as though their entire existence wasn't balancing on the edge of a knife right now.

Inside the McLaren garage, Martha slipped on her headset as one of the engineers set her up beside the data screens. Andrea offered her the usual quiet commentary, explaining their FP1 run plan, while Lando climbed into the car behind them.

Lando's eyes flickered toward her briefly through the gap in his helmet as his visor remained up. His voice came low through the radio as he checked in with his engineer, but his focus stayed on her for just a second longer than necessary.

Martha offered him the faintest nod, her smile soft but thin.

The drivers were strapped into their cars now. Oscar rolled out of the garage first, followed by Lando, both slipping down pit lane as the green light signaled the start of FP1.

The cars screamed through the opening laps. The paddock hummed. The engines drowned out the whispers, but only for a moment.

In the VIP suite above, Jacob stood with Paul hovering at his shoulder. His eyes stayed locked on the garages below, watching every glance, every smile, every interaction Martha had while she performed exactly how she was trained.

And yet, even from behind glass, Jacob watched like a man who saw threats

The lunch hour settled across the paddock like a heavy, humid blanket. FP1 had ended without issue, the cars tucked back into their garages while mechanics adjusted set-ups, the drivers disappeared into briefings, and the models were escorted toward the private hospitality suites reserved for their midday breaks.

The girls arrived together, still perfect.

Lila immediately slipped off her heels the moment she stepped inside the suite, curling up on the pale velvet couch as though she hadn't just walked the paddock like a runway. Barbara stood by the buffet, absentmindedly picking at the plated fruit selection while Gigi poured iced coffees for the table. Taylor flopped into one of the armchairs, already scrolling through social media, pretending not to monitor every post about them circulating online.

And then there was Martha.

She moved slower than the others, careful, but not stiff. The oversized hoodie was gone now, replaced with a cropped branded tank and leggings that showed just enough skin to meet the content requirements without exposing the bruises still faintly living beneath layers of makeup. Her sunglasses remained on, as they had all morning. No one questioned it anymore. Not here.

But today, something felt... softer.

Jacob entered the suite a few minutes after the girls settled, Paul shadowing behind him. His presence, as always, pulled the room tighter. The staff standing nearby lowered their voices. The energy dipped instantly.

But Jacob was smiling. His smile was warm, even. His tone light as he approached Martha, slipping an arm around her waist and pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "You doing okay, baby?" he asked gently, his voice perfectly audible to everyone in the room.

Martha smiled easily. "Of course."

The other girls played their roles flawlessly. Taylor smiled over her coffee. Lila glanced up briefly with her signature lazy smirk. Gigi's face didn't flinch as she sipped her drink, and Barbara busied herself with a piece of honeydew on her plate.

Jacob sat beside Martha at the table, his hand resting softly on her thigh. Possessive, but gentle. Casual. Normal. That was what made it worse. He looked like the perfect boyfriend. Supportive. Caring. Involved. The dangerous kind of normal that made everyone outside their world second-guess what they'd felt growing all week.

From a distance, it looked almost loving. And that was exactly the problem.

Outside the suite, in the shaded corner of the hospitality deck, a few of the drivers gathered for their own lunch, just far enough that they couldn't hear, but close enough that they could see.

Pierre shook his head softly, voice low as he leaned in toward Charles and George. "They look... fine."

George exhaled through his nose. "He hasn't taken his hands off her all day."

"That's exactly it," Charles muttered. "It's too fine."

Lando sat a few steps back from the conversation, trying to stay focused on the sandwich in front of him, but his eyes never strayed far from where Martha sat inside, smiling, Jacob's hand resting casually on her thigh like she was porcelain.

The drivers exchanged loaded glances, none of them saying the words they were all thinking. Because saying it would mean confronting something none of them quite knew how to handle.

A few meters away, Toto stood under the white canopy with Lewis, both men watching as carefully as they always did. Neither had touched their lunch plates.

Lewis finally broke the silence, his voice low enough to stay between them. "They look normal today."

Toto's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. "Exactly."

Lewis's jaw flexed, frustration bubbling just beneath the calm. "I hate this part. When they look fine. It makes everyone else think nothing's happening."

Toto nodded once. "The worst control is the one that hides in plain sight."

Lewis exhaled slowly, his voice tight. "It's almost more dangerous when he's like this."

"It is." Toto's voice was sharp, steady. "Because now everyone starts doubting what they've seen. And that's what allows him to stay."

They both watched as Jacob leaned in again, whispering something in Martha's ear that made her smile, soft, effortless. She laughed lightly, resting her hand over his, playing the part like it was second nature. Because it was.

"They're both playing," Toto murmured.

Lewis's voice dipped even lower, anger curling around every word. "She's surviving."

Toto's sunglasses never moved from the scene in front of him. "For now."

The hospitality buzzed around them like nothing was wrong. The paddock kept moving. The media kept filming. The content teams prepped for the afternoon sessions.

The heat was heavier as FP2 loomed. The Florida sun sat high now, baking the tarmac until it shimmered under the weight of the day. The grid moved like clockwork, as it always did. The content team had shifted into the background for now. Cameras followed the drivers as they stepped back into their garages, helmets tucked under their arms, the media rounds finished, the social content filmed.

The models were already splitting off into their assigned garages, the same careful choreography repeated to the second. It was routine, but today? The routine felt far tighter.

Martha was led into the McLaren garage again, greeted with the same gentle professionalism by Andrea Stella, who kept his eyes polite but brief. Her headset was handed to her, her chair set beside the telemetry monitors like always. But the engineers were quieter today. More aware.

Lando passed by as he stepped toward his car. His gaze flickered toward her for only a breath longer than necessary. She offered a soft smile beneath her sunglasses — the same controlled smile she'd perfected over months, and his chest tightened slightly at the way she was still performing. Still flawless. Still surviving.

Barbara was guided into Ferrari, standing beside Fred who offered her the faintest nod. Gigi moved into Sauber's garage, Taylor into Alpine, and Lila into VCARB. All of them playing the same quiet game now. Everyone watching. Everyone aware.

But behind them, Jacob hovered. He hadn't returned to the VIP suite this time. Instead, Paul kept him positioned much closer to the garages, far enough not to break any FIA protocols, but close enough that every team felt him. His hands were tucked into his pockets, head tilted slightly as he observed each interaction like a man quietly measuring every single person near Martha.

Paul stood just behind him, stone-faced, fully alert. Jacob's smile never slipped. But his presence weighed like a fog that even the mechanics could feel.

The engines roared to life one by one, cars being wheeled to pit lane, the drivers climbing into cockpits while tire blankets were stripped away. The paddock was still spinning. But inside the upper hospitality deck, a different conversation had finally started.

Toto stood with Fred, Zak, and Christian, all gathered at the far corner, away from the cameras, their voices low enough to stay buried under the hum of engines outside.

"It's different now," Fred said first, voice tight. "He's not just hovering around her. He's integrated himself."

Zak nodded slowly. "The girls are watching him more than the cameras."

Christian, for once, wasn't playing the politician. His face was sharp, serious. "The way he watches the drivers concerns me more. He's reading them like they're competition."

Toto's jaw flexed, eyes narrowing slightly. "Because to him, they are."

They all paused as mechanics wheeled Max's Red Bull out of the garage beneath them.

"He's gotten close this weekend," Zak muttered.

"Too close," Fred agreed.

Christian glanced briefly toward Paul, standing still behind Jacob as the man quietly observed McLaren's garage from afar. "And that one is the only thing keeping him contained."

Toto's voice dropped into that dangerously calm register, low enough that none of the surrounding PR staff could hear him. "The only thing keeping Martha breathing is that man shadowing him."

Fred exhaled slowly, glancing across the garages. "She still hasn't broken the illusion."

"She can't." Toto's eyes stayed locked on Martha as she adjusted her headset beside the McLaren monitors. "She's surviving."

Zak shook his head. "And the longer we wait, the more protected he becomes."

Christian's voice tightened. "If something snaps, it'll happen here. And when it does, no one will be able to say they didn't see it coming."

Toto's gaze never wavered. His voice dropped further. "Then we'd better make sure we're ready when it does."

The pit lane light switched green, and the first cars screamed out of the garages, slicing through the air as FP2 officially began. Engines deafening. Cameras flashing. The illusion rolling forward.

Not long after, the pit lane buzzed as the content crew finished setting up the branded backdrop beneath the early evening sky, the heavy Florida heat now settled into a thick, humid haze that clung to the air like invisible velvet.

The drivers gathered, pulling their branded caps lower as makeup artists dabbed away sweat and touched up under the blazing lights. The models slipped easily into their content energy, laughing, smiling, hair freshly brushed out and glowing under the soft reflectors.

The quiz was designed for optics, engineered to look light, fun, and perfectly viral.

Martha stood in the center of the lineup, flanked by her assigned teams, Mercedes and McLaren, Lando grinning easily on one side, Lewis standing smooth and composed on the other. Their smiles came easily, but their eyes flicked once or twice to her before every take, still clocking Jacob's absence even as they performed.

Next to them, Gigi smiled between Alex and Logan from Williams, alongside Zhou and Valtteri from Sauber. Further down, Barbara posed with Charles, Carlos, Kevin, and Nico. Taylor stood between Esteban, Pierre, Fernando, and Lance. And finally, Lila slid into position with Max, Daniel, Yuki, and Liam, laughing easily as the cameras rolled.

The laughter and banter were sharp, perfect for content. The models joked with the drivers, everyone playing into the dynamic their followers loved, models mixing with the grid, fully embedded into the circus of Formula One.

Behind the cameras though, away from the bright lights and carefully controlled angles, stood the cluster of team principals, and Jacob.

The ten men stood loosely in a half-circle, watching as their drivers and the models performed the branded fun before them. David, Julia, and Karen stood nearby, their expressions perfectly calm as always, monitoring every word, every interaction.

Jacob blended easily into the group. Dressed in sharp linen once again, sunglasses still on, hands folded casually in front of him, he exuded calm, approachable confidence. His body language was easy, relaxed, designed to make him appear as though he was simply a loving partner watching his girlfriend work. No threat. No danger. Just another man enjoying the show.

Toto was the first to break the tension. "Big production," he said lightly, nodding toward the filming.

Jacob smiled smoothly. "They do love their content." His tone was warm, polite, exactly what it needed to be. "But it's brilliant, isn't it? The exposure, the crossover. Martha tells me all the time how much she's learned about the sport since joining the campaign."

Fred nodded, his arms folded across his chest. "She's sharp. Picks things up fast."

Jacob smiled wider, his voice carrying that soft pride that sounded authentic. "Always has. She's got this calm way of adapting to everything thrown at her. Makes me proud watching her."

Christian chimed in next, his voice polite but edged with curiosity. "It's not an easy life they've stepped into."

"No, it's not." Jacob agreed with a gentle laugh. "But Martha's always been strong. I try to support where I can, keep things grounded for her. Traveling, the schedule, the media — it's a lot."

Zak raised an eyebrow slightly, sipping his drink as he offered a nod. "She's lucky to have someone keeping her stable."

Jacob's grin softened into something sincere-looking. "That's what we promised each other when all this started. Doesn't matter how crazy the world gets, we take care of each other. Always."

The words landed heavily in the space between them, the implication threading delicately beneath his smile. Control disguised as devotion.

Gunther's voice broke the moment, light, easy. "Not many partners could handle being with someone in this spotlight."

Jacob chuckled. "Well... I'd be lying if I said I don't worry. You've got twenty drivers, all young, all successful, and let's be honest, most not exactly shy about attention." His tone remained playful, never accusatory. "But I trust Martha. She knows where her loyalty is. That's all that matters."

Toto's jaw flexed, his eyes remaining steady on Jacob's face. "Loyalty matters," he said softly.

Jacob nodded as though the comment was entirely harmless. "More than anything."

The other team principals stayed silent for a moment, processing his performance, watching how easily he spoke, how perfectly he played the part.

Jacob's smile remained as he glanced back toward the cameras, where Martha laughed lightly at something Lando said, her hand briefly resting against Lewis' arm as they teased answers for the quiz. The smile never wavered, but for the briefest moment, behind the dark tint of his sunglasses, his gaze hardened.

Paul watched from behind him, standing still, unblinking.

The quiz wrapped a few minutes later, the models and drivers laughing as they stepped out of frame, the content crew cheering, already reviewing footage that would be posted before the night was over.

David called the girls back toward management. The drivers peeled away toward their respective debriefs. And Jacob slipped easily back to Martha's side as though he had never left it, pressing a kiss to her temple, smiling like the perfect boyfriend.

The team principals exchanged glances one last time as the group dispersed. No one said it aloud, not yet. But the weight of the performance was tightening around them all.

The paddock was still smiling.

But beneath the lights, everyone was calculating how much longer this could be contained.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 grid x reader #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando fanfic

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vmantras · 8 months ago

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Lotus Eletre R: The Ultimate Luxury Electric SUV

₹2.99 Cr The Lotus Eletre R represents Lotus’s foray into the luxury electric SUV market, merging cutting-edge technology, superior performance, and a premium design ethos. Here’s a detailed breakdown of its features, strengths, and unique selling points. Performance and Powertrain Power and Acceleration: With a motor power of 675 kW and a maximum output of 905 bhp, the Eletre R is among the…

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dioslesbianwife · 6 months ago

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Hi! I love your Jofoe headcanons!! I had an idea. What would the jofoes be like as drivers? What car would they drive? Would the prefer driving or being driven to places? How they act as a passenger? How safe is it to be in a car with them?

Thank you!

Hi! These were fun to write for, thank you for sending this ask, honestly i would not get in a car with any of these men lol. hope you enjoy!

Car and driving headcannons for jojo villains :0

Dio

Car: A sleek, black luxury car like a high end Aston Martin. It exudes power and status.

Driving Style: Dio is a show off behind the wheel, he treats driving like a performance to assert dominance. He drives aggressively and always thinks he owns the road.

Preference: He prefers being driven, as it makes him feel more regal and powerful. If he’s driving, it’s only to make a statement.

Passenger Behavior: He critiques the driver incessantly, even when he doesn’t know the route. He expects perfection and despises delays.

Safety: Highly unsafe. He speeds, tailgates, and doesn’t care about traffic laws. He views accidents as something that only happens to lesser beings.

Kars

Car: He’d drive a gorgeous vintage car. The vehicle’s design would be almost artistic.

Driving Style: Smooth and precise. Kars never makes a mistake, but he’s a fast driver who pushes his car’s capabilities to the limit.

Preference: Prefers driving himself, as he trusts no one else to do it perfectly.

Passenger Behavior: Quiet and observant. He silently judges the driver’s skills but only speaks up if something truly annoys him.

Safety: Safe, but only because he’s skilled. He’s not particularly considerate of other drivers and takes risks others wouldn’t.

Enrico Pucci

Car: A modest but classy sedan, like a Lexus. He cares most about comfort and reliability.

Driving Style: Calm and composed. Pucci obeys traffic laws and drives with an air of purpose, never rushed or reckless.

Preference: Prefers driving himself, as it gives him control and time to think.

Passenger Behavior: Quiet and contemplative. He’s the ideal passenger, never distracting the driver or causing problems.

Safety: Very safe. He’s cautious, attentive, and never takes unnecessary risks.

Diavolo

Car: A blacked-out luxury SUV with tinted windows, like a Range Rover. He wants privacy and intimidation.

Driving Style: Paranoid and erratic. Diavolo constantly checks the rearview mirror, ensuring noone is following him. He’s fast but not smooth.

Preference: Absolutely prefers being driven, as he can’t focus on the road with his paranoia. Doppio might drive in his place, with Diavolo giving him strict instructions.

Passenger Behavior: Silent and tense, always looking around nervously. He’s not a relaxing passenger to have, all he does is raise the driver’s anxiety.

Safety: Questionable. His paranoia makes him prone to sudden, sharp decisions. But he also doesn’t want to crash, so by extension, you won’t be at too much risk of crashing.

Kira

Car: A sensible, unassuming sedan like a Toyota Camry. He avoids anything flashy to maintain a low profile.

Driving Style: Methodical and rule abiding. Kira follows every traffic law to the letter, but his driving is unnervingly perfect, borderline robotic.

Preference: Prefers driving himself to maintain control and avoid unnecessary interaction with others.

Passenger Behavior: Polite but detached. He barely speaks unless necessary, keeping the atmosphere quiet.

Safety: Extremely safe. Kira’s precision and caution make him the ideal driver.

Funny Valentine

Car: A classic, vintage American car, like a Cadillac. He cares a lot about elegance and aesthetics.

Driving Style: Steady, and dignified. Valentine drives like he’s in a parade, ensuring everything is precise and deliberate. I mean literally like a parade driver though, slow.

Preference: Prefers being driven, as it allows him to focus on more important matters.

Passenger Behavior: Quiet and composed, occasionally making small talk or delivering long winded monologues about his vision for America.

Safety: Very safe. He values order and ensures the journey is smooth and extremely uneventful.

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kvysvdilla · 6 months ago

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𝑩𝑬𝒀𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑶��𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻

idol/Jk x supermodel/reader -Aria Jeong-

GENRE: Romance | Fluff | Celebrity life

Chapter 06

The last chords of the song reverberated in Jungkook’s mind as he stepped off the stage. Soundcheck for his solo performance at the AMA had gone flawlessly, leaving him in high spirits. The massive arena had been mostly empty, save for the crew and production team, but he could already imagine the roar of the crowd that would fill it tonight.

“Great work, Jungkook. You’re all set,” one of the staff members said as he handed him a water bottle.

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied with a polite nod before heading to the waiting SUV that would take him to the hotel. Tonight’s event was enormous, and the hotel was bustling with stylists, makeup artists, and managers, all ready to ensure everything was perfect for his red-carpet debut.

As he climbed into the backseat, the city buzzed past him, the golden California sun streaming through the windows. Jungkook pulled out his phone to scroll through Twitter, expecting to see updates from fans about the AMAs. His thumb stopped abruptly as he stumbled upon a trending photo.

Aria.

The image hit him like a lightning bolt. She was stepping out of a sleek black car, flanked by two towering bodyguards who framed her petite figure protectively. A black hoodie—his black hoodie—draped over her, its oversized fit making her look smaller, yet effortlessly striking. The hood was pulled up over a black cap, and her face was partially obscured by a pair of oversized sunglasses.

What caught him most was the subtle way she covered her face with her hand, lifting the hoodie’s sleeve to shield herself from the cameras. She looked effortlessly cool and cute at the same time, like she wasn’t trying at all—and yet she still managed to exude that magnetic, untouchable aura that had captivated him from the start.

He couldn’t stop the soft smile that spread across his lips.

She’s really wearing it.

His mind wandered back to when she first grabbed the hoodie. Now, seeing her in it in the middle of LA, as if it belonged to her, made something stir in his chest.

“You’re smiling a lot at your phone lately,” Hyunwoo’s voice broke the silence, startling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

Jungkook looked up, his ears burning red as he fumbled to lock his phone and slip it into his pocket. “I’m not,” he muttered quickly, but the sheepish tone in his voice betrayed him.

Hyunwoo, seated across from him, smirked knowingly. “Don’t even try to deny it. I saw the look on your face. Let me guess—Aria?”

Jungkook sighed, leaning back into the seat. “It’s nothing,” he tried again, though the faint smile lingering on his lips told a different story.

“Nothing, huh?” Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had a crush on her since forever, Jungkook. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

He looked away, staring out the window as the massive hotel loomed closer.

“She’s just…” Jungkook started, his voice quieter now, “Aria.”

“Exactly,” Hyunwoo said with a chuckle. “And that’s why I know it’s her. I’ve never seen you act like this over anyone else. You think you’re good at hiding it, but you’re not.”

Jungkook’s hand instinctively went to his hoodie’s drawstrings, tugging at them absentmindedly. “It’s not that simple,” he said finally. “I don’t want to ruin things.”

Hyunwoo shook his head, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. You don’t need to be perfect, Jungkook. Just be real with her. Trust me, you’re already halfway there.”

The SUV rolled to a stop in front of the grand hotel entrance. The massive glass structure towered above them, and a team of staff members was already waiting to escort Jungkook inside.

As he stepped out of the car, the photo of Aria lingered in his mind—the way she looked in his hoodie, the effortless cool she carried herself with, and the way she unknowingly made his heart race.

Maybe Hyunwoo was right. Maybe he was waiting too long.

Jungkook walked through the grand hotel lobby, the buzzing energy of the AMAs just hours away. Staff scurried around him, murmuring into headsets and gesturing towards elevators, all working to ensure everything ran seamlessly. He followed Hyunwoo to the private suite prepared for him, ready for the whirlwind of preparation to begin.

As he settled into the spacious suite, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, Jungkook’s lips curved into a small smile the moment he saw the sender, Aria.

Ari: Just about to get ready. How was soundcheck?

He reread her message. Yes, he change her contact name from Aria Jeong to Ari. His smile widening unconsciously. Her texts always had a way of lightening the weight of the day, no matter how chaotic it got.

“You’re smiling again,” Hyunwoo remarked, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook.

Jungkook chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’ve been way too observant lately.”

Hyunwoo folded his arms, sitting on the couch besides him while crossing his arms. “Is it her?”

Jungkook paused, glancing up at his manager with a sheepish grin. “Yeah.”

Hyunwoo sighed dramatically, though the teasing smirk on his face was impossible to miss. “I have to know—how on earth did you even get her number? You don’t exactly talk to people much outside of schedules.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “It just… happened,” he admitted. “Remember the first rehearsal? I bumped into her at the restroom entrance.”

Hyunwoo blinked. “The restroom?”

Jungkook laughed, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. We both apologized at the same time, and it was awkward. But then we ended up talking, and we just kind of… clicked.”

“And exchanged numbers?” Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Jungkook shrugged, trying to play it cool. “It wasn’t a big deal. I said we might need to coordinate later for the upcoming photoshoot, so we exchanged contacts.”

“Uh-huh.” Hyunwoo’s tone was laced with sarcasm. “Sure, that’s the only reason you exchanged numbers.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the small laugh that escaped. He turned his attention back to his phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he typed his reply.

Jeon Jungkook: Soundcheck went well. Just finished, heading to get ready now. You’ll kill it tonight, don’t stress too much.

He hit send and leaned back against the plush couch, waiting for her reply.

As the buzz of preparations filled the room, Jungkook found himself momentarily distracted. His thoughts were no longer on the AMAs, the massive crowd he’d be performing in front of, or even the countless staff running around the suite.

For now, all he could think about was her.

Aria sat in front of the vanity mirror in her private hotel suite, wrapped in a luxurious gold silk robe embroidered with the initials “AJ.” The makeup artist and hairstylist worked seamlessly around her as she smiled softly at her phone, fingers tapping away at a message.

The videographer, capturing her preparations for the AMAs, noticed her grin and zoomed in slightly. The makeup artist caught the moment too and jokingly spoke to the camera, “Looks like someone’s in love.”

Aria immediately turned off her phone, setting it aside with a playful eye roll. Before she could respond, the doorbell rang. A staff member opened the door, and two tailors entered, carefully carrying a garment bag.

a staff member stepped into the hallway and called out excitedly, “The dress is here!”

A round of cheers erupted from the team outside. Aria, still seated at her vanity, couldn’t help but join in, raising her hands in a playful cheer. “Finally!” she said with a laugh. “I can’t wait to wear it.”

Turning toward the other staff in the room, she gestured eagerly toward the wardrobe. “You guys have to see it,” she said with a wide smile.

The videographer shifted focus as the tailors unzipped the bag, revealing Aria’s stunning gown. The sleeveless, backless black dress shimmered with delicate gold, black, and silver diamonds adorning the bodice. The sheer black fabric along the legs created a bold yet elegant contrast, while fur embellishments and sparkling details along the edges. The thigh-high slit balanced sexy and elegance perfectly, allowing for graceful movement.

Gasps and murmurs of admiration filled the room, the shimmering dress dazzling under the suite’s soft lighting.

Aria leaned slightly in her seat, craning her neck to get another look. “It’s even more gorgeous than I the last time i saw it,” she said, a mix of awe and pride in her voice.

The tailors carefully hung the dress in the wardrobe as Aria remained seated, her glam session still underway. The anticipation in the room grew as the preparation for the night’s big moment continued.

The clock on the wall ticked to 4:48 p.m., Claire clapped her hands, catching everyone’s attention. “Alright, team! We’ve got just over an hour before the red carpet starts. Let’s move!”

Aria had just finished her makeup, enhanced by sharply defined contouring that sculpted her features to perfection. Her eyes were framed by a slick black eyeliner, winged to a sharp point, intensifying her gaze with dramatic precision. A bold dark red lipstick completed the look.

Her long brown hair is styled into a sleek, polished bun with a loose strand elegantly cascading down the right side of her face, framing her face complementing her glamorous look.

Her makeup artist stood back, hands on their hips, and declared with pride, “Makeup is done!”

Aria stood up from her chair and turned toward the videographer’s camera, playfully striking a pose. “How do I look?” she asked, tilting her head dramatically as the camera captured her confidence.

Moments later, it was time to slip into her dress. The tailors helped her step into the gown, their hands careful with the delicate fabric as they zipped it up and adjusted the fit. The dress hugged her figure like it was made for her, its shimmering details sparkling under the suite’s bright lights.

As the staff swarmed around her, making last-minute adjustments to the dress and smoothing her hair, Aria casually asked, “Is there still any of those leftover nuggets?”

The whole room burst into laughter at her unexpected question, lightening the tense atmosphere. “Only you would think about food at a time like this,” one stylist teased, shaking their head.

A staff member handed her a small box of nuggets with a grin. “Here, Your Majesty.”

Aria happily took a nugget and began munching as the team continued to work around her. The sight was almost surreal—her standing tall in the dazzling dress, surrounded by a flurry of staff adjusting every detail, while she casually ate a nugget.

The photographer couldn’t resist snapping a candid shot of her mid-bite, a mischievous smile on her face. “You’re going to break the internet with this photo,” they joked, and the entire room erupted in laughter once again.

Despite the chaos, Aria remained calm, cool, and unapologetically herself—a perfect mix of elegance and relatability.

Aria stepped into the hotel hallway, the full glam makeup completed the transformation, and the gown, glittering with diamonds, seemed to shimmer with every step she took. The photographer, standing at the far end of the hallway, adjusted his lens and gave a nod.

“Alright, Aria! Let’s get a few shots here,” he called out.

She turned toward the camera with a graceful smile, her confidence palpable. She stood tall, one hand resting delicately on her hip, the other resting on the wall besides her, showcasing the sleek lines of her dress.

The camera clicked rapidly, capturing her in various poses, her gaze intense but warm, the gown’s delicate fabric glittering under the lights as it moved with her.

After a few minutes, the photographer lowered his camera, nodding in approval. “That’s it! We’re done.”

The staff, who had been waiting anxiously nearby, erupted into applause, cheering for Aria’s stunning performance. “You look incredible, Aria!” Claire called out. “You're gonna kill it!”

Aria beamed, her eyes lighting up as she waved at her team. “Thank you so much, everyone!” she said, her voice a mix of gratitude and excitement.

As the cheer died down, she turned towards the elevator, Claire following closely behind, and her two bodyguards trailing.

The elevator doors chimed softly as they slid open, and Aria stepped out into the hotel lobby.

Aria walked outside the hotel and as soon as she stepped into the sightline of the paparazzi, the noise intensified. Camera flashes erupted like firecrackers, and a chorus of voices echoed as the photographers scrambled to capture her in her stunning black gown.

“Aria! Over here!” one photographer shouted.

“Can you give us a smile, Aria?” another called, snapping pictures with rapid succession.

But Aria kept her focus ahead, her posture regal and her steps deliberate. Her two bodyguards were flanking her, walking in sync, keeping the photographers and fans at a safe distance.

Questions from reporters flooded the air, but Aria remained unfazed, choosing not to acknowledge them. “Aria, who are you wearing tonight?” “What’s your favorite part about the AMAs?” “Can we get a word on your upcoming projects?”

She ignored them all, her gaze fixed firmly on the path ahead. But then, amidst the barrage of questions, one voice cut through, a question that made her pause.

“Aria! How do you feel about seeing Jungkook tonight?”

Aria’s steps faltered, just for a split second. Her eyes shifted toward the source of the question, and for the briefest moment, a soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. The smile was barely noticeable—a fleeting, almost imperceptible expression—but it was there. A moment of warmth, a hint of something personal.

But just as quickly as the smile appeared, she focused again on walking toward the awaiting black car. Her bodyguards moved in sync with her, creating a barrier between her and the press, guiding her forward to the black SUV.

The question hung in the air as Aria made her way toward the car, and the scene unfolded in real time—photographers snapping photos of her every move, capturing the soft smile that had graced her face for just that split second. Fans cheered, others shouted her name in excitement, and the moment was immortalized in countless pictures and videos.

Aria kept her expression calm, her steps graceful, and as she slid into the car, the door closed behind her with a soft thud, cutting off the chaos outside.

The black car glided smoothly through the streets, the soft hum of the engine providing a gentle backdrop to the conversation between Aria and Claire.

Aria, her phone in hand, took a quick selfie, her reflection in the window catching the light just right.

As she was about to set her phone down, a text notification popped up on her screen. It was from Jungkook. Aria’s heart skipped a beat as she quickly unlocked her phone and opened the message.

He sent a photo of him sitting in a car, the angle slightly angled down. His hair was partially parted, a few strands falling over his forehead. His lips were adorned with his signature lip ring, adding just a touch of rebellion to his otherwise polished look. He wore a sleek black tuxedo, the fabric shimmering slightly.

Aria couldn’t help but notice the silver diamonds scattered across his tuxedo, reminiscent of the sparkling details on her own dress.

Jeon Jungkook: I’m on my way. Can’t wait to see you 😉

Aria’s smile widened as she quickly snapped a selfie of her own, holding her phone with the same angle as his photo, her dress shimmered softly in the reflection. She sent the picture back to him with a message.

Ari: You look amazing! Can’t wait to see you too.

Claire caught the smile on her face. She raised an eyebrow, a playful look on her face. “Is that him?” she asked softly, her voice teasing.

Aria couldn’t help but smile even more, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah,” she replied simply, her fingers brushing against the phone screen absentmindedly.

Claire’s expression softened, a knowing look in her eyes. “Well, as long as you’re happy, then I’m happy too.”

Aria’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in Claire’s voice, and she nodded, a small but contented smile on her lips.

Her phone buzzed again. She quickly glanced at the new message notification, seeing that it was from him once more.

Jeon Jungkook: I have to admit, I think the real star of the night is the one wearing that dress. You’re making it hard for me to concentrate over here.

Aria couldn’t help but laugh softly. She quickly typed out a reply,

Ari: I’m sure you’ll manage to focus once we’re finally together. But I won’t lie… you’re making it hard for me to concentrate too.

Claire, watching her with a knowing look, leaned back in her seat. “I’m glad you’re having fun. You deserve it.”

Aria couldn’t help but feel the warmth of her manager's words, but her attention was quickly drawn back to her phone when it buzzed again.

Jeon Jungkook: I’ll be sure to give you my full attention when I see you. I can’t wait to see how stunning you are in person.

Aria bit her lip, her smile widening. Jungkook was definitely making this night even more unforgettable.

Aria’s car pulled up to the venue, the sounds of cheering fans and the flashing of cameras growing louder with every passing second. The door opened, and Aria stepped out, her heels clicking on the pavement as the bright flashes of paparazzi cameras blinded her for a moment.

Claire stood close by, adjusting Aria’s dress as the staff worked swiftly to ensure everything was perfect, "You got this Aria."

Aria took a deep breath, ready for the moment she’d been preparing for all day. She smiled brightly as she started walking forward, the cameras following her every step.

As she approached the staircase leading to the main event, the person in charge quickly stepped in, guiding her to stand in the center of the carpet. “Please pose for the camera here,” they instructed, and Aria confidently struck a pose. She turned her back slightly, exposing the backless design of her dress, and turned her head over her shoulder, giving the camera a stunning look. The crowd cheered, their excitement growing as Aria kept her poise.

The person in charge said, nodding toward her to continue walking toward the AMA’s backdrop.

Fans cheered louder as she walked past them. The staff directed her to step to the middle for more photos. As the photographers yelled for her attention, the flashes filled the space. Aria struck another perfect pose, looking over her shoulder as the cameras clicked rapidly.

The crowd cheers, and she smiles graciously, posing for photographers as her dress and glam look shine. She makes her way to the first of many interviews lined up.

Billboard Interview:

Reporter: “Miss Aria, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight! What inspired your fashion look for the AMAs?”

Aria: [Grins softly] “Thank you so much! I wanted something that felt powerful but also elegant. The dress has these amazing details, and I love the backless design—it gives off such a strong, yet graceful vibe.”

Reporter: “You’re always giving us amazing looks. Can you tell us how do you decide what to wear for such a big night?”

Aria: “It’s a mix of inspiration and collaboration with the designer. I trust them to know my style and personality. Together, we go over different ideas until we find something that feels like the right choice for the occasion.”

Spotify Interview:

Reporter: “You’re presenting an award tonight. We’re all dying to know, what’s one thing about presenting that you’re most excited for?”

Aria: “I think what excites me most is just being able to celebrate with the artists and fans. It’s such an honor to be involved in recognizing so much talent, and I can’t wait to see who wins!”

Reporter: “So, you’ve been on a whirlwind journey lately. What’s something people don’t know about your preparation for tonight?”

Aria: “It’s definitely a team effort. I didn’t do this alone, and we’ve all been working really hard behind the scenes to make sure everything goes smoothly. There’s a lot of fun and laughter in the process too, which helps keep the nerves in check.”

iHeart Radio Interview:

Reporter: “We know you’re a style icon, but how would you describe your personal style outside of events like this?”

Aria: “On a normal day, I’m all about comfort but with a little flair. I love to mix casual pieces with something unique, like statement accessories or cool shoes. I like to keep it effortless but interesting.”

Reporter: “Let’s talk music for a moment—what’s one song that’s currently on repeat for you?”

Aria: “Lately, I’ve had a lot of Billie Eilish’s tracks on repeat. She’s such an incredible artist, and her music speaks to me on so many levels. But I’m also really into some new stuff from Olivia Rodrigo.”

E! Entertainment Interview:

Reporter: “So, we know you’re here to announce an award tonight, but we’re all curious—can you tell us which one?”

Aria: [Laughs softly, winks] “I’m keeping that a secret for now! You’ll just have to wait and see. But trust me, it’s going to be worth the wait for my fans.”

Reporter: “Exciting! Now, is there any performance you’re most looking forward to tonight?”

As she's about to answer, a wave of loud screams erupts from the fans in the distance, cutting through the interview. Aria and the reporter both glance curiously in the direction of the sounds.

Aria chuckling lightly “What’s happening over there?”

The reporter leaning in and laughing softly “Oh, no wonder! It’s the one and only Jungkook. He’s just arrived on the red carpet.”

Aria quickly composes herself, trying to act nonchalant, but a faint smile tugs at her lips as she shifts slightly in place, pretending to adjust her dress.

She keeps her composure as the screams grow louder, and the interview continues, though a glint of amusement lingers in her eyes.

He laugh lightly after the fans’ screams interrupt “Wow, they are really going wild out there. Let’s get back to your answer—so, you were saying? Is there any performance you’re most looking forward to tonight?”

Aria she laugh softly as she answer the question, “Definitely Billie Eilish. I’m a huge fan of hers, and oh—and of course, Jungkook. It’s my first time seeing him perform live on stage, so that’s something I’m really looking forward to.”

Reporter: smiling warmly “Well, Aria, it’s always a pleasure talking to you. Thank you for taking the time to chat with us tonight.”

Aria: smiling politely “Thank you for having me.”

Reporter: glancing at her with admiration “And can I just say, you look absolutely stunning tonight. That dress is a showstopper.”

Aria: grinning “Thank you so much, that means a lot.”

Reporter: offering a soft hug “Good luck tonight, and have so much fun! We can’t wait to see you inside.”

Aria: hugging back briefly “Thank you, have a great evening!”

As Aria made her way toward the entrance of the venue, the cheers and flashes from the red carpet still buzzing behind her, she couldn’t help but glance back over her shoulder. The crowded red carpet was alive with staff, bodyguards, and other celebrities making their grand entrances, but despite her quick scan of the chaos, she couldn’t spot him.

Her eyes lingered for a moment, but it was no use. Jungkook was nowhere to be seen—or perhaps he was just lost among the crowd of people swarming the red carpet.

Claire gently touching her arm, speaking softly “Aria, it’s time. We need to head inside now.”

Aria turned back, nodding slightly as she refocused. A small smile crossed her lips as she let Claire guide her into the venue, leaving the flashing cameras and excitement of the red carpet behind.

Aria entered the AMA’s venue, her heart fluttering as she took in the grandeur of the event. She gracefully walked to her assigned seat, a smile spreading across her face as she noticed Zendaya seated beside her. Aria sat at the end of the row, with the walkway on her right and more seats further down the line. Behind her, Claire waved subtly, giving her an encouraging nod.

“Hey, Zendaya,” Aria greeted, her tone warm yet slightly nervous.

Zendaya turned to her, flashing a welcoming smile. “Aria! You look stunning tonight. Are you excited?”

“Excited and terrified,” Aria chuckled softly, adjusting her dress. “It’s my first time doing something like this, and I’m hoping I don’t trip or mess up my lines.”

Zendaya leaned closer, her voice reassuring. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself. The audience is going to love you.”

Before they could continue chatting, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. Aria straightened in her seat, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves.

The event went smoothly until a staff member approached her, whispering, “It’s time. You’re up next.”

Aria nodded, inhaling deeply as she was ushered backstage.

As the MC’s voice boomed, “Please welcome to the stage, the international supermodel, Aria Sinclair!” the crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

Aria walked out gracefully, cue cards and the winner’s envelope clutched in her hands. Her heels clicked against the stage floor as she approached the microphone stand, her elegant demeanor captivating the audience.

“Wow,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with awe. “This is… surreal. First of all, let me just say that being here at the AMAs, in front of all of you, is such an honor.”

The crowd cheered again, encouraging her.

Aria smiled nervously. “I’ll be honest—when they asked me to present an award, I thought, ‘Why me?’ I’m used to walking runways, not stages with microphones. But here we are. And I promise I won’t accidentally announce the wrong winner.”

The audience erupted in laughter, and even a few artists chuckled.

She grinned, getting carried away. “Honestly, though, you all look incredible tonight. I feel like I’m hosting a fashion show instead of an awards ceremony.”

The laughter grew, and Aria quickly caught herself. “Okay, okay, back to business!” she said with mock seriousness, earning another round of laughter.

Turning her attention to the prompter, she continued, “Tonight, I have the privilege of presenting the award for Best Male Solo Artist. And the nominees are…”

A montage played on the big screen, showcasing the nominees:

Harry Styles

Shawn Mendes

The Weeknd

Jungkook

Joji

Pink Sweats

Aria held the envelope in her trembling hands, her nerves catching up with her. “And the winner is…” she paused, dramatically opening the envelope.

She smiled softly, covering her face with the cue cards for a moment before lowering them. Taking a deep breath, she let a few seconds of silence hang in the air.

“Jungkook!” she finally shouted, her voice filled with genuine excitement.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Jungkook stood from his seat, flashing his signature shy smile. Aria couldn’t help but clap enthusiastically, her smile widening as she watched him make his way to the stage.

Grabbing the trophy from the assistant, she stood at the center of the stage, waiting for him. As Jungkook arrived, he immediately hugged her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“Congratulations,” she whispered softly, her lips near his ear as her head rested lightly on his shoulder.

“Thank you, princess,” he murmured back, his face partially hidden from the cameras by her head.

They pulled away, and Aria handed him the trophy, earning a warm smile from him. He turned to the microphone to give his speech.

Jungkook stood at the microphone, holding the trophy tightly in one hand. He looked out at the crowd, his gaze briefly landing on Aria before returning to the audience. A soft smile spread across his face as he took a moment to compose himself.

“Wow,” he began, his voice warm yet steady, “this is truly unbelievable. First of all, I just want to thank the AMAs for giving me the honor of standing here tonight. To all my fans, ARMY, you’ve been my foundation from the very beginning. Your love and support mean the world to me, and I wouldn’t be here without you. This is as much your award as it is mine.”

The crowd cheered loudly, and Jungkook took a deep breath, letting his fingers lightly brush over the engraved plaque on the trophy. “To my team—thank you for always pushing me to be the best version of myself. You believed in me even when I had doubts, and that means everything. To my family… I hope I’ve made you proud.”

He paused, his smile softening as he glanced down at the trophy, choosing his next words carefully. “You know, it’s been a journey to get here. A lot of long nights, a lot of uncertainty, and a lot of moments where I questioned if I was doing enough or if I was enough. But someone recently reminded me that as long as you’re giving your heart to what you love, you’re already more than enough. And that’s something I’ll carry with me forever.”

There was a faint cheer in the audience, but no one seemed to pick up on the subtle weight of his words except perhaps the person they were meant for.

Jungkook smiled again, his tone shifting into something more playful. “Also, I’m incredibly grateful for the people who keep me grounded. You know who you are. Whether it’s a simple text, a shared meal, or someone just sitting next to you, those moments remind you of what really matters.”

The crowd cheered again, and Jungkook glanced sideways at Aria, who was clapping along with everyone else, her face bright with pride.

“As for this award,” he continued, lifting the trophy slightly, “it’s not just a milestone—it’s a reminder that dreams do come true when you work hard, when you stay true to yourself, and when you have people who believe in you. I’m endlessly grateful for all of it. Thank you so, so much.”

After wrapping up his heartfelt speech, Jungkook stepped back, giving a small bow.

As Jungkook began to walk off the stage, he suddenly paused and turned back toward Aria. Closing the distance between them in a few steps, he leaned in and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her into a quick but firm hug. The move was subtle yet intimate, making it seem like a congratulatory gesture to everyone watching.

Aria’s lips twitched slightly into a soft smile, but she kept her composure, her face remaining turned straight toward the audience. She couldn’t risk breaking her professionalism, not now. As Jungkook pulled away, he gave her a small, knowing smile before walking confidently offstage, his trophy in hand.

Aria exhaled subtly and adjusted the cue cards in her hands before stepping back to the microphone. Her smile returned, this time brighter and professional, as she prepared to keep the show moving.

“And now,” she said, her voice steady, “we move on to the next category—Best Afrobeats Artist. The nominees are…”

After stepping off stage, Aria was met with an outpouring of praise from the backstage staff.

“You were amazing out there, so natural!” one of the crew members exclaimed, clapping for her as others joined in with cheers.

“Thank you so much!” Aria replied with a warm smile, bowing slightly as she walked through the bustling backstage area.

As she made her way down the hallway, she noticed the door with Jungkook written on the nameplate. She paused for a moment, debating whether to knock. The rehearsal draft from earlier flashed in her mind—she knew his performance was coming up soon. Finally, with a deep breath, she knocked softly on the door.

The door creaked open, and one of Jungkook’s staff peeked out. They froze for a second before gasping. “Oh my gosh, Aria!”

The staff inside turned toward the door, equally surprised, but they broke into wide smiles and cheered. “Wow, it’s Aria! Welcome!”

She greeted them warmly, bowing slightly. “Hi, everyone. Sorry for the sudden visit—I just wanted to stop by for a moment.”

At that moment, Jungkook, who had been seated at his dressing table scrolling through his phone, heard her voice. His head shot up, and he called out, “Aria?”

Standing up quickly, he made his way to the door, his face lighting up when he saw her standing there. “I wasn’t expecting you to come here,” he said with a surprised smile.

She returned the smile as they leaned in for a warm hug. The staff around them clapped playfully at the interaction.

Jungkook stepped back, gesturing toward the room. “Let me introduce you to everyone,” he said, his voice friendly and calm. He pointed to each of his staff members, introducing them by name.

“Hello, nice to meet all of you,” Aria said politely, bowing again. “I just wanted to stop by to congratulate Jungkook on his award earlier.”

Jungkook smiled softly at her. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

As she glanced at him, she noticed his outfit had changed from his earlier red carpet suit to a black short sleeves button-down shirt—unbuttoned—revealing his toned abs and chest. He paired it with baggy dark blue jeans. Her gaze lingered for a split second before she quickly realized and stammered, “Are you—are you going on stage like this?”

The room erupted into laughter, including Jungkook himself. “Yeah, this is the outfit,” one of his stylists said, grinning.

“Is this allowed?!” Aria asked, turning to the staff with a playful expression, making everyone laugh again.

Jungkook shook his head, his laughter echoing in the room. “What’s wrong with it?”

She playfully waved her hand. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just—well, I hope ARMY can handle it!”

The videographer, who was capturing the moment, chuckled as Aria turned to them and said something funny off the cuff. “Please, make sure you edit this part out,” she joked, winking.

The entire room burst into laughter again, Jungkook included, his loud laugh filling the space.

Realizing she needed to leave, she straightened up. “Alright, I really need to go now. Have fun on stage, Jungkook,” she said, addressing both him and the room. She bowed slightly again. “Good luck to everyone, and thank you for letting me stop by!”

Jungkook moved closer for a side hug, wrapping one arm around her waist. His head leaned close to hers, just out of the camera’s frame. In a low voice, he whispered, “I’ll see you at the after-party later.”

Her face remained composed as she nodded professionally. “Good luck out there,” she said softly, stepping back.

As she walked out of the room, she glanced back briefly, giving a small smile and wave to everyone. The door closed behind her, leaving the room buzzing with light laughter and energy.

As soon as Aria walked out of the dressing room, the atmosphere shifted into chaotic excitement. Some of the female staff, who were secretly (or not-so-secretly) fans of hers, let out muffled squeals.

“Did you see her in person? Oh my god, she’s even prettier than in her pictures!” one of the stylists gushed, clutching her chest dramatically.

Another chimed in, “I can’t believe she was here! Like, in this room!”

Jungkook, who was smiling ear to ear, walked back toward the chair in front of the dressing table to let the team finish touching up his makeup and hair. The videographer followed closely behind, capturing the candid moment for his upcoming solo vlog.

One of the staff turned to him, still star-struck. “Jungkook, we had no idea you were friends with Aria Jeong. You’re telling me the Aria Jeong just came here casually to wish you good luck?!”

Jungkook smirked as he adjusted his position in the chair. “Who said we’re friends?” he said, his tone teasing.

The entire room froze, gasping dramatically.

“No way—are you serious?” one of them asked, wide-eyed.

Jungkook couldn’t hold back his laugh anymore and waved them off. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He leaned back with a playful grin. “Aria and I are good friends. A really good friend.”

Hyunwoo, one of his close staff members who had been quietly laughing in the background, suddenly chimed in, his voice full of mischief. “Yeah, a good friend. Sure. Totally believable, Jungkook.”

The entire room burst into laughter at Hyunwoo’s sarcastic tone, and Jungkook shot him a playful glare through the mirror.

“Hyunwoo-hyung, you’re gonna get me in trouble,” Jungkook said, chuckling as the makeup artist leaned in to fix his eyeliner.

Hyunwoo leaned against the wall, arms crossed, still grinning. “I’m just saying, Jungkook.”

Jungkook shook his head, letting out a breathy laugh, while some of the staff exchanged knowing glances.

The videographer caught every moment, the camera still rolling as Jungkook tried to redirect the conversation. “Anyway,” he said, clearly trying to change the topic, “she’s really cool. We’ve got a project coming up soon, so you’ll probably see her around more often.”

One of the hairstylists, still fangirling, placed her hand over her chest. “If I see her again, I think I might cry. She’s like a goddess.”

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head at their enthusiasm. “She’s really just a normal person, you know. No need to get all worked up.”

The stylist gave him a deadpan look. “Says the Jungkook of BTS. You’re one to talk about being a ‘normal person.’”

The room laughed again, and Jungkook smirked, glancing at the camera lens. “ARMY, you see what I have to deal with here?”

The videographer laughed behind the camera, keeping the focus on Jungkook as he finished his touch-up, still grinning from the lively banter.

As the laughter in the room began to settle, Jungkook suddenly looked at his reflection in the mirror and adjusted the unbuttoned black collared shirt he was wearing. He tilted his head slightly, as if deep in thought, then glanced at the stylist standing nearby.

“Hey, do you think I can wear a white singlet underneath this?” he asked casually, tugging at the edge of the shirt to emphasize the open style.

The stylist blinked, momentarily surprised by the sudden question. “A white singlet? Beneath this?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, nodding. “I feel like… I don’t know. Maybe it’ll make it look less… bare?”

Chapter 07 --- Back to Series Masterlist

#bts #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #kpop fanfic #new fanfic #celebrities #jeon jungkook #fluff #jk fic #romantic #supermodel #idol life #idol #kpop #jk

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weaponizedgems · 8 months ago

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here’s a blurb about rachel i wrote while i had the flu / it was supposed to be a prologue to a fic i never ended up writing / forgive my adhd stream of consciousness she makes no sense sometimes

The Great Impersonator - Rachel Amber

Rachel Amber wanted to be many things.

When she was seven, she wanted to be a ballerina— wanted to be adored as she twirled around the floor every night in pink satin. When she was twelve, she wanted to be a rockstar— like Alanis Morissette or Dolores O’Riordan, performing in a different city every night to crazed fans. A dazzling actress on the red carpet. A model enchanting the lens of a camera.

She felt so deeply, inside her bones and across her muscles, that she could be anything. A hero, a villain; big, small; fleeting, eternal.

So much more than she was now— a high school theatre kid in a dying town.

Though, no one else saw her that way. To the rest of the world, Rachel proved to be so much more— she was a magician, of sorts. And her most captivating trick was one everyone had a front row seat to. It was immersive, enthralling— leaving the crowd to wonder of the girl when they laid their heads down at night. It was art.

But all good artists are tortured by their own creations; always unsatisfied. And Rachel was deemed exceptional.

In the gaps between roles, she felt nameless. Faceless. Dangling over a void of anguish so fiery it rivaled the sun’s rays; burning questions lingered that would never be answered; how and why.

How could this be it? Why couldn’t it be enough?

In another world, she knows, one role is enough. She doesn’t need to feel larger than herself. She doesn’t need to get high, or perform, or implode. In another world she knows peace. Forgiveness.

(She’s thought about it before. Of course she has.)

On the top of a hill in Northern California, a house with a blue door and white panels. Three bedrooms, plenty of windows, an SUV in the driveway. Behind every wall is evidence of love; carvings in the walls, wrinkles in the sheets, laughter in the air. She knows it’s love, because despite herself, she’d know love anywhere, in any lifetime—

(Chloe is in every corner of the house. Rachel doesn’t think Chloe would like the house, or the color of the paint or the SUV. But it was her world and so she got to decide what was there.)

Piles of laundry and taxes and bills and dentist appointments and grocery shopping and God it would suck but it would be real. It would be real, and it would be theirs. And no amount of obsession or money or greed would ever interfere with that.

In the gap between roles, she is angry because she’ll never be at peace folding laundry. And maybe she could be at peace loving Chloe all her life but she would never find out, because she wasn’t in that world. She was in this one.

So she’ll keep performing her show. Mirroring people, giving them what they want— showing them what they want— often what they expect of her. She’ll feed off the thrill of their excitement and admiration, hoping it’ll be enough to distract her from falling into the void forever.

Even if it kills her.

#rachel amber #life is strange #life is strange bts #amberprice #chloe price #lis bts #before the storm #rachel amber you’ll always be famous to me

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mariacallous · 7 months ago

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Let me start with the following principle: “Energy is the only universal currency: One of its many forms must be transformed to get anything done.” Economies are just intricate systems set up to do those transformations, and all economically significant energy conversions have (often highly undesirable) environmental impacts. Consequently, as far as the biosphere is concerned, the best anthropogenic energy conversions are those that never take place: No emissions of gases (be they greenhouse or acidifying), no generation of solid or liquid wastes, no destruction of ecosystems. The best way to do this has been to convert energies with higher efficiencies: Without their widespread adoption (be it in large diesel- and jet-engines, combined-cycle gas turbines, light-emitting diodes, smelting of steel, or synthesis of ammonia) we would need to convert significantly more primary energy with all attendant environmental impacts.

Conversely, what then could be more wasteful, more undesirable, and more irrational than negating a large share of these conversion gains by wasting them? Yet precisely this keeps on happening—and to indefensibly high degrees—with all final energy uses. Buildings consume about a fifth of all global energy, but because of inadequate wall and ceiling insulation, single-pane windows and poor ventilation, they waste at least between a fifth to a third of it, as compared with well-designed indoor spaces. A typical SUV is now twice as massive as a common pre-SUV vehicle, and it needs at least a third more energy to perform the same task.

The most offensive of these wasteful practices is our food production. The modern food system (from energies embedded in breeding new varieties, synthesizing fertilizers and other agrochemicals, and making field machinery to energy used in harvesting, transporting, processing, storing, retailing, and cooking) claims close to 20 percent of the world’s fuels and primary electricity—and we waste as much as 40 percent of all produced food. Some food waste is inevitable. The prevailing food waste, however, is more than indefensible. It is, in many ways, criminal.

Combating it is difficult for many reasons. First, there are many ways to waste food: from field losses to spoilage in storage, from perishable seasonal surpluses to keeping “perfect” displays in stores, from oversize portions when eating outside of the home to the decline of home cooking.

Second, food now travels very far before reaching consumers: The average distance a typical food item travels is 1,500 to 2,500 miles before being bought.

Third, it remains too cheap in relation to other expenses. Despite recent food-price increases, families now spend only about 11 percent of their disposable income on food (in 1960 it was about 20 percent). Food-away-from-home spending (typically more wasteful than eating at home) is now more than half of that total. And finally, as consumers, we have an excessive food choice available to us: Just consider that the average American supermarket now carries more than 30,000 food products.

Our society is apparently quite content with wasting 40 percent of the nearly 20 percent of all energy it spends on food. In 2025, unfortunately, this shocking level of waste will not receive more attention. In fact, the situation will only get worse. While we keep pouring billions into the quest for energy “solutions”—ranging from new nuclear reactors (even fusion!) to green hydrogen, all of them carrying their own environmental burdens—in 2025, we will continue to fail addressing the huge waste of food that took so much fuel and electricity to produce.

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myseungsunglove · 2 years ago

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Do Something | Ksm

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: angst, but fluff to wrap it up

Word Count: 2.5k

𖠫Summary: The reader can’t keep her feelings to herself anymore when it comes to Kim Seungmin. After a particularly trying day busy with practices and an impending concert, she explodes on her best friend, spilling her feelings for him but doesn’t exactly go about expressing those feelings in the best way.

✎A/N✎: I seriously meant for this to be a short drabble. This story has been in my head for weeks and I thought I could tell it quickly before laying down to sleep. Here I am 2.5k words later and this is anything but quick and short. I should have known. My biggest brain thoughts happen in the middle of the night. I’ve been reliving this story over and over on my own for weeks, now you guys can share in the drama with me. Sorry bout you. :p

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

It had been a long day of rehearsal and prep for your upcoming performance at Lollapalooza with the boys. You had been on edge all day because it had really felt like you had been going non-stop for much too long. As a result, your nerves were fried and your patience was thin.

Your best friend, Seungmin, was always in tune with your mood. As the nine of you walked to the cars waiting for you outside ready for Lee Know and Changbin to drive you to a mini retreat before your next busy schedule, Seungmin grabbed your hand as a comfort as he always did when you were exhausted or having a rough day.

Today though, you had no patience for it. You had harbored feelings for your best friend for much too long and with your emotions on high alert after an exhausting day, the last thing you needed was comfort from your best friend who was never going to feel the same way about you that you did about him.

As he grabbed your hand starting to interlace his fingers with yours as he was so accustomed to, you ripped your hand away. You could feel his eyes rise up to look at your face, and you just knew that stupid puppy look was plastered on his face. You refused to look at him because you knew if you did, your resolve would crumble and you would cave. So you ran ahead, leaving Seungmin to walk by himself and grabbed Chan’s arm, leaning up against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked. You were certain that Seungmin was very likely burning holes in the back of your head with his eyes as you walked.

“Hey, Y/n-nah,” Chan smiled down at you, placing a comforting hand on top of yours. “You feeling any better than earlier?”

“It’s been a busy few weeks, Chan,” you sighed. “My battery is more depleted than I thought. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”

“Hey! Don’t apologize. I think we’re all a little on edge. Maybe this tiny bit of time we are getting away will help?” he offered.

“Yeah, maybe,” you mused, your head somewhere other than the conversation you were having with Chan. You reached the back of an SUV and Chan opened up the trunk. You took your backpack off your back, and set it into the vehicle. As soon as the bag was discarded into the car, there was a pair of long arms wrapping around your waist, the clean smell of soap filling your senses as Seungmin rested his chin against your neck. You could feel his warm breath against your skin and goosebumps prickled up in response.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just get absolutely rejected by my best friend and let you sit by me on the trip,” he teased, his words dancing across your skin.

You visibly shook him off and turned quickly to face him. There was a look of utter confusion on his face as you spoke.

“Seungmin, are you ever going to do something about this or are we going to be forever stuck in this cycle of will they won’t they?” you blurted out. He stared at you, opened mouthed, his hands now resting on your waist as you looked into his eyes, searching them for any hint or clue that he felt even the tiniest bit of something for you. All you saw was confusion.

“Do something?” he questioned dumbly, his eyes darting back and forth between yours as if he were trying to read your mind, desperately seeking an answer to a question he wasn’t comprehending.

You pushed away from him then, your impatience flaring into anger and you couldn’t stop the next words to come tumbling out of your mouth.

“Yeah, fucking do something about this,” you gestured between the two of you as you took another step back. “This constant tension that is bubbling just below the surface between us every time we touch,” you rambled. “Which, by the way, is all the fucking time,” you add, gesturing wildly. “Or are you just not even remotely interested in doing anything with me and you just like that you can hold my hand and cuddle up to me without the obligation of anything more?” you accused. You felt bad the minute you said it, but there was no turning back now.

“What are you…” Seungmin started but you cut him off.

“No, don’t. It’s obvious we are not on the same page. I can’t do this right now. Fuck. How could I have thought there could be… anything more,” you trailed off walking away. “Chan, I’m switching cars,” you told him as you walked by, making a beeline for Lee Knows car where Jisung and Felix had already climbed into the backseat, IN opening the front door to take his place.

“Y/n, wait,” Seungmin pleaded desperately trying to follow after you.

“Chan, do not let him follow me,” you growled as you walked around the back of the car and swung open the back door of the car where Felix was settling in. “I mean it,” you glared at Chan.

He immediately put an arm up to Seungmin’s chest, stopping him from following you. The look on his face was nothing short of panic and confusion. You wanted so bad to make that go away, but you knew he had to get there on his own. Whatever that looked like.

You looked down at Felix and tears started falling immediately.

“Oh god, what’s going on?” he asked, his big, soft eyes staring up at you.

“I just,” you started, but couldn’t continue as you dissolved into uncontrollable tears.

Felix was immediately up and out of the car, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you tightly against his chest. You slumped in his hold and cried. You could feel him placing a hand on the back of your head, stroking it softly. You also felt the vibration of his deep, calming voice as he spoke, but you were so lost in the flurry of events that had just happened, you didn’t hear a word he said. He pulled you into the car with him, guiding you to sit in the middle seat and slid in behind you, pulling the door close.

“We can’t all sit back here,” you mumbled, sniffling pathetically as you looked from Han to Felix.

“Shut up, yes we can,” Han said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his hold. “What the hell happened?” he asked Felix as you cried in his arms.

“I’ve got no clue,” he said as Lee Know climbed in the driver’s seat.

“So you finally said something?” Lee Know asked as he put on his seatbelt and started the car.

You nodded in response to Lee Know’s words, not brave enough to look up at him.

“Hmmm,” he responded. “He’ll sort his shit out,” he added.

“Oh shit,” In mumbled from the front seat. You had forgotten he was there. “Noona, what did he say?”

“Nothing. Fucking nothing at all,” you said, wiping your tears away as you pulled away from Jisung and sat up in the seat. You ran your fingers through your hair, before you brought your head to rest against the palms of your hands while your elbows rested on your knees. “He looked at me like I had grown two heads,” you added.

“You fucking idiot, Kim Seungmin,” Jisung mumbled from beside you, rumbing your back softly.

You shook your head.

“No, I’m the idiot.”

“Fat chance,” Felix interjected. “You finally tell him how you feel and he does nothing? You’re not the idiot here,” he reassures you.

You looked up then, looking around the car. All eyes were trained on you. Even Lee Know was glancing back at you as he headed for the gas station to fill up before driving on to the condo you guys had reserved for the night.

“I didn’t exactly tell him,” you said, shaking your head. “I more accused him of wanting to benefit from the physical intimacy of our relationship without having to invest emotionally in it.”

“Whoa,” Jisung whispered beside you.

“Ugh, I know,” you choked out. “God, why can’t I be normal for once in my fucking life?”

“The day I speak perfect english,” Lee Know sassed as he got out to pump gas. It made the atmosphere shift a little in the car, everyone laughing.

“Come on, let's run to the bathroom and grab you a drink,” Han said, opening the door and grabbing your hand, dragging you from the car.

You walked past the other car where Seungmin was filling up the SUV. He looked up as you passed, his eyes somewhat red rimmed and a brooding look on his face. When your eyes met, his glance softened, and you could see words dancing across his lips that were dying to come out but he didn’t say a word.

You quickly used the restroom. When you came out, Felix was shaking two waters at you and handed one to you, then grabbed your hand and walked back to the car with you. Han was quickly there too, an arm thrown over your shoulder as the three of you walked together. It was like they were your protectors. If only they could protect your heart from yourself, you thought as you climbed into the car. Seungmin had already returned to the back seat of Changbin’s car.

The rest of the trip went on, the boys doing their best to distract you from everything that had happened before you left. This day was supposed to be about STAYs and here it had turned into a complete disaster. Lee Know drove through McDonald’s, ordering everyone food and IN played DJ in the front seat. As you cruised down the dark road, Han sleeping soundly beside you and Felix singing along with the song, you glanced down at your phone to see that you had a string of messages from Seungmin. You didn’t open them. You just shoved your phone back into your pocket, and tried to shove down your feelings as well.

The other car beat you to your destination, but none of it’s occupants, save Kim fucking Seungmin were waiting for you. He stood in the parking lot with his hands shoved in his black pants, black framed glasses resting on his face, a blue plaid shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. His eyes watched as Lee Know parked the car. Immediately he made a beeline for the car.

He pulled open Felix’s door just as harshly as you had back at the company.

“Out,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “Now,” he added with a warning.

“Down boy,” Lee Know said from the front seat, but got out all the same. “Let’s go, fellas,” he called after the rest of the car.

Han squeezed your leg and pushed open his door.

“Just tell him the truth,” he whispered against your temple before placing a quick kiss there and getting out of the car.

Felix looked over at you, a look on his face that said he thought he would betray you by getting out of the car and leaving you alone with Seungmin.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

He climbed out reluctantly, shoving past Seungmin a little more roughly than usual.

You saw Seungmin’s jaw clench and his shoulders bristle, but he didn’t respond to Felix, he just climbed into the car and sat where Felix had.

“Seungmin, I…” you started but you were abruptly cut off.

You barely had time to register that the two of you were alone in the car before Seungmin’s hands were delicately cupping your cheeks, his lips crashing less delicately and more desperately against your own. At first you were shocked, your eyes wide, your body tense. The moment your brain caught up with what was happening, you reached out for Seungmin, your hands wrapping around his small waist and pulling him against you, the kiss becoming more intense as his tongue tangled with yours.

After many breathless moments, how long you weren’t really sure, Seungmin pulled away from you, his lips swollen from their first encounter with yours.

His forehead rested against yours and he sighed heavily.

“Are we on the same page now?” he asked, his breath fanning across your face. “I did something about it,” he added, almost more to himself than to you.

“You definitely did do something,” you agreed. You moved your hands from being wrapped around him and placed them on the sides of his face. “Seungmin, are you sure that was something you wanted?” you asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“I love you,” he let out in a whisper. “I have for so long. I have no fucking clue you ever wanted anything more,” he admitted.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

You pressed your lips against his again, this time it was soft and comforting a stark difference from the desperate first kiss from before. His lips moved against your like they were made to do so.

“Most best friends don’t act like we do, Min,” you tell him. “We’re so close. How was I ever going to do anything other than fall in love with you, you idiot?”

He smiled then, his eyes lighting up for the first time.

“Really?” he asked.

“Really,” you confirmed. “I’m so sorry for what I said back there. I’m exhausted and I lashed out and before I could stop it, I had made a big fucking mess with my stupid ass words and I didn’t know how to take it back.” Your hands fell from his face then, into your lap.

He immediately grabbed both of your hands, holding them in his.

“I’m used to your messes,” he said gently. “You usually tell me what you’re thinking,” he added. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“The same reason I guess you didn’t tell me,” you shrugged. “I was afraid you didn’t feel the same.”

“I’ve felt this way from the moment I first met you,” Seungmin admitted. “I’m gonna be here waiting even through the shitty times if you’ll have me.”

You pulled him into a hug then, your face falling into his neck and breathing him in. Everything about him was comforting and you were wishing like hell you had just talked to him instead of blowing up at him, but you couldn’t change that now.

“If you can put up with me, of course I’ll have you Kim Seungmin,” you say. “It always has been and always will be you.”

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