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Chapter 4

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The cool evening air wrapped around her like a comforting embrace. She leaned against the railing, her red hair catching the soft glow of the streetlight. The world outside seemed so peaceful, so quiet, in stark contrast to the storm of emotions churning inside her. The leaves, painted in vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows, drifted lazily in the breeze, reminding her of how fragile things could be. They fell so easily, so effortlessly, but Ainsley couldn't remember the last time she had let anything go.
The truth was, she hadn't let herself feel vulnerable in years. After their father had walked out, Ainsley had taken on the role of the protector, the responsible one. She worked long hours, did everything she could to make things easier for her mother, and tried to keep Aurora on the right path. But somewhere along the way, she had buried her own needs—her own vulnerability. The idea of having a boyfriend, of letting someone into her life, seemed so unappealing and complicated that she had pushed it away.
And now, it wasn't just unappealing it felt impossible. Aurora's words had hit at something Ainsley had tried to ignore for too long. The walls she had built around herself were thick, solid, and impenetrable. Letting someone in meant exposing herself in ways she wasn't sure she could handle.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and without thinking, she pulled it out. Her fingers automatically opened Instagram, and before she could stop herself, she was scrolling through his profile. Her favorite actor. The one she had been messaging for months, even though she knew he'd never respond.
She clicked on the conversation, the familiar thread of one-sided messages staring back at her. She hesitated for a moment, then began typing........
"Rough night. My sister just told me I don't know anything about having a life. She's probably right, but it stings. Anyway, hope you're doing better than me."
She hit send and stuffed her phone back into her pocket, leaning her forehead against the cool metal of the railing. The leaves continued to fall, drifting to the ground below, and Ainsley wished, for just a moment, that she could be like them light, free, and able to let go.
But that wasn't her life. Letting go wasn't an option.
Will !! Not yet.

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The party buzzed around him, the glamorous hum of the industry's elite rising like a dull roar, but his mind was elsewhere. He stood near the bar, a cigarette resting lazily between his fingers, his dark eyes scanning the room without really seeing anything. Dressed in his perfectly tailored black Armani suit, the absence of a tie and the exposed silver chain gave him an effortless edge, a reminder that beneath the superstar veneer, he was still his own man.
He looked like he belonged here, surrounded by people who admired and adored him. Yet, in reality, he felt disconnected, like an observer watching it all from a distance. As he exhaled a slow breath of smoke, the weight of the evening settled on his shoulders, and the distant murmur of the crowd faded into the background.
The silver chain, cool against his skin, grounded him, reminding him of who he was underneath the layers of performance. His eyes followed Sereen as she effortlessly moved through the room, a dazzling smile fixed on her lips as she spoke with producers, directors, and anyone else she deemed "important." She looked perfect, as she always did every movement calculated, every word carefully chosen.
But his mind drifted back to their conversation the night before, a conversation that still hung heavy in his thoughts.
Flashback:
He had been sitting in the living room of his apartment, the soft glow of the city skyline spilling in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It had been quiet, the kind of quiet that made words feel heavier, more significant. Sereen was perched on the edge of the couch, her long legs crossed elegantly, her arms folded, and her expression unreadable.
"Do you think this is working anymore?" she had asked, her voice calm but lacking warmth. There was no anger, just a detached coldness that had come to define their relationship.
He had stared at her for a long moment, unsure how to respond. The truth was, he hadn't been happy for months, but admitting that felt like opening a door he wasn't ready to walk through. "I don't know," he had finally said, running a hand through his hair, frustrated by the honesty of it. "It's not like it used to be."
Sereen's lips had tightened into a thin line. "We've been going through the motions for a while now, haven't we?"
He hadn't denied it. "Yeah."
For a brief second, he thought she might get angry, that there would be some emotion—something to prove that this still mattered to her. But instead, she had simply sighed, as if this was just another tedious task to cross off her list. "Do you want to break up?"
The question had caught him off guard. Break up? He hadn't expected her to say it out loud, and especially not so bluntly. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe she had been feeling the same way all along.
"I don't know," he had replied, though part of him knew that was a lie. Maybe he had known for a long time.
Sereen had stood up then, pacing across the room to the large window that overlooked the city. "You're going to Scotland for three months to shoot this movie," she had said, her voice quieter, almost resigned. "Maybe we just... use that time to figure out what we want."
He had nodded, watching her back as she gazed out at the city lights. They both knew that what she was suggesting wasn't just a temporary break. It was an ending—an unspoken understanding that their time together was slipping away, like sand through their fingers.
They had discussed the party briefly after that. She had told him how important it was to show up, to play their roles, to be seen together. After all, that was part of the image, wasn't it? No one needed to know that they were unraveling behind closed doors.
"After tonight, we can figure out what comes next," she had said, her voice devoid of emotion. And that had been the end of it.
Back to the Present:
He snapped back to the present, the noise of the party crashing into his thoughts again. The cigarette was burning low between his fingers, and he stubbed it out in the ashtray on the bar. He glanced over at Sereen, still mingling with a group of industry insiders, her laughter floating above the din of conversation. She looked radiant, as though the conversation they had the night before had never happened.
He couldn't help but feel the hollow emptiness between them grow wider. Maybe the months apart in Scotland would do them both some good. Maybe it would be easier to end things from a distance.
As he exhaled softly, he noticed his co-star approaching him, a bright twinkle in her eye as she glided across the room. She was new to the scene, but she had already caught the attention of everyone in the industry. Ambitious, talented, and determined—she had fought hard to get this role, and it seemed she was determined to make the most of it, both on screen and off.
"You look sharp tonight," she said, her gaze flicking briefly to the silver chain peeking out from under his unbuttoned collar.
He offered her a small smile, the flashback still lingering in his mind. "Thanks. Ready for Scotland?"
She laughed softly, stepping closer. "More than ready. I've been waiting for this."
He knew what she meant, but he wasn't sure if he had the energy to engage. Not tonight. Not after the conversation with Sereen still weighed on his mind. But she was persistent, her eyes scanning him as if trying to read him, to figure out if there was more beneath the surface.
"It's going to be a long few months," she added with a mischievous smile. "I hope you're ready."
He smirked, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm always ready."
They exchanged a few more pleasantries, but his thoughts remained distant. He watched as she eventually drifted away to speak with someone else, leaving him alone again in the crowd.
The party continued around him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that tonight marked the beginning of the end. Not just for him and Sereen, but for something deeper within himself.