It Started With A Vampire

Not a game

Malachi's POV
It was supposed to be a chill morning.

Malachi had his earbuds in, hoodie up, hoodie string halfway in his mouth like he was trying not to scream into the universe. They had choreography rehearsals and a brief stunt meeting after lunch. Easy stuff.

Until MK sat down beside him, tapped his shoulder, and said:

"Okay, don't kill me, but you should probably know something."

Malachi yanked the bud out of his ear. "What now?"

MK lowered his voice.

"Eva might be doing a PR soft launch with Jace."

Time stopped.
Malachi immediately clenched his jaw.
"What."

"I overheard it from one of the assistants," MK muttered. "Disney's pushing it. Couple shots, fake flirting, maybe a staged date. It's supposed to shift the narrative away from you."

Malachi blinked. "Away from me?"

"They think the dance photo made things too messy. So they want to clean it up."

Malachi laughed — short, sharp, humorless.

"Right. Because God forbid people actually think we care about each other."

MK grimaced. "I thought you already knew."

Malachi stood.

"Nope. But thanks for the update."

⸻

Eva didn't see him the rest of the morning.

And when she did, it was from across the parking lot — while a stylist brushed her hair back and fixed the collar of the oversized flannel she'd "borrowed" from Jace five minutes earlier.

It wasn't hers.

It never had been.

But the camera flashing from behind a tinted SUV didn't care.

She forced herself to laugh at something Jace said.
Leaned in.
Rested her hand on his arm.
Let them take the shot.

Because the PR team told her it would "only take a second."
Because "Malachi's name is already trending too much."
Because "this is safer."

But when she glanced up...
Malachi was there.

Watching.

And the look on his face?

Unforgivable.

⸻

Back on set, Malachi didn't say a word.

Not during blocking.
Not during notes.
Not even when they were standing inches apart during their scene, breath heavy, hands shaking — scripted to lean in close, almost kiss, and pull back.

Just like real life.

"Again," the director called. "Closer this time."

Eva tried. She really did.

But Malachi didn't move.

His eyes were cold, unreadable.

Cut. Reset. Try again.

But it was broken now. Whatever spark they'd had — it was tangled in everything unspoken and slowly suffocating.

⸻

Hours later, Eva found him behind the prop trailer, hands in his pockets, eyes on the horizon like it had answers.

"You saw," she said softly.

He didn't turn.

"I didn't agree to it. Not really. They just—"

"I saw," he said, voice low. "And I get it. You have to do what's safe. What's good for your career."

Her heart cracked. "Malachi—"

"But don't ask me to be okay with it."

She stepped closer. "It's not real."

"Doesn't matter," he said, finally turning to her. "Because it looks real. And the part that is real? That's what gets buried."

She blinked, tears rising. "You think I want this?"

"I think you're scared," he said. "And I think I'm not allowed to be angry about it."

"You are."

"Then let me be," he snapped, voice breaking.

They stood in silence.

Just breathing.

And then, for a second, he stepped toward her.

Close.

Too close.

"I should hate you for this," he whispered.

"Then do it."

"I can't."

His hand touched her jaw.

Her lips parted.

Their foreheads brushed.

And just when he tilted in —
A voice behind them:

"Eva? We need you on set."

She jerked back like she'd been burned.

Malachi didn't move.

Didn't flinch.

Didn't blink.

Just watched her walk away.

Like she wasn't already taking his heart with her.