Chapter 5: Trending, Trembling, Tempted

Dawn. I’m woken by a phone call.

I roll over, covering my head, not wanting to answer.

The person next to me hands me the phone.

Eyes closed, I mumble, “…don’t wanna answer.”

Then swat his hand away.

Lean, strong muscles. Hot skin.

Wait—

I open my eyes. Jesse is telling the caller, “She says she doesn’t want to answer.”

His voice is still sleepy, a little defenseless.

I sit up and snatch the phone.

Caller ID: Harrison.

“Hello…”

As my mind clears, I glance at the camera in the corner, its light on.

On the other end, his breathing is quick, and he’s silent for a long time before speaking.

“Filming the show?”

“Yeah.”

I get up and head to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

My answer seems to calm him a bit; his voice steadies.

“I was on a plane last night when you texted.”

Thinking of last night’s awkward shoot, I don’t say anything.

“When I got home this morning,” he pauses, “the blanket was gone.”

“Did you come back?”

“Yeah.”

“The blanket?”

I say nothing.

“Bring it back.”

“Harrison, I paid for that blanket.”

“Savannah,” his tone is that familiar, unyielding one, “don’t play games with me. If you piss me off, I don’t have time to humor you.”

When I don’t reply, he actually softens a little.

“Savvy, be good. Either bring it back, or come home.”

I hang up.

Back in the living room, the early spring sunlight is especially bright.

Jesse has taken the Marie Cat blanket and made a bed on the floor. Last night, he gave me the sofa bed and used the blanket himself.

Now, he’s in a loose white T-shirt, hair messy, poking his head out from the blanket, looking at me with sleepy eyes—boyish and unaware of how attractive he is.

A wave of guilt washes over me for no reason.

“M-morning.”

I awkwardly touch my neck, thinking again of the heat I felt just now, and quickly pull my hand back.

He rubs his eyes, shuffles into the bathroom.

The camera on the ceiling above the bathroom door follows his movements as he approaches.

“Morning, Savannah.”

He calls me by my full name, slow and unhurried.

As he passes, he leans in and whispers in my ear.

“How does it feel to talk to another man in front of your husband?”

I freeze.

My mind goes blank for a few seconds.

A dangerous thought flashes through my head.

By ‘husband,’ does he mean Harrison—or himself?

After the first episode airs, the panelists gather in the studio to watch.

The show is live, with the panelists reacting in real time—every reaction caught on camera.

Before going on, Harrison posts a photo of the Marie Cat blanket on Instagram, captioned: “Her ways of showing affection are always so unpredictable.”

Instantly, everyone’s speculating, gossip accounts spinning stories about the Best Actor’s love life—everyone from Riley to the newly signed Bella Ford is named as the mystery woman.

No one guesses it’s me.

Of course—I’m the ‘least likely’ one.

Anyone with eyes can see what’s going on in that photo.

Riley, ever in sync, posts on her Instagram at almost the same time:

“Some people think they can get famous by faking ships. No matter how big the star, you just don’t have what it takes! Keep dreaming!”

My producer friend comments below:

“Funny, I thought you were the one always tying your artists to other agents for ship hype?”

Not long after, Riley blocks her.

Producer texts me: “Look how rattled she is, haha.”

I don’t get a chance to reply—today I’m in the studio dancing all day, obsessing over every detail.

The cameraman goes from standing to just setting up a fixed shot, yawning.

“Savvy, you’re trending again.”

After practice, as night falls, my assistant sends me a flurry of videos.

I watch them one by one.

The show starts with me and Jesse in separate scenes—me dancing, him rushing to events.

Harrison looks perfectly natural.

When it cuts to Jesse singing, the host can’t help but say, “He’s so good.”

He even claps along with everyone else.

Acting skills on full display.

Nothing like how he usually looks down on pop idols at home.

When Jesse and I finally appear together and he asks that question, the studio goes wild.

The male host laughs like a goofy uncle.

“Can we even air this?” the veteran actress jokes.

Harrison just raises his eyebrows, face calm.

Then comes the convenience store scene.

Honestly, I was so shocked and embarrassed when he brought up the past that I barely knew how to react.

But with the show’s editing and filters, my expression comes off like a lovestruck schoolgirl, totally exposed in front of her crush.

The spring night’s mist and the warm glow of the convenience store add to the mood.

Even I feel my face heating up watching it.

“Oooh~”

“Man, watching other people fall in love is so much more fun.”

The male host tries to lighten the mood, patting Harrison’s shoulder.

“Harrison, with your acting skills, how much of that look in her eyes do you think was real, and how much was acting?”

A vein pops on Harrison’s forehead, but he still smiles and says nothing.

Anyone who knows him can tell—his face is saying, ‘Are you serious? You really want to ask me that?’

“It’s definitely real. She can’t act that well,” the veteran actress chimes in, unwittingly stirring the pot. “Right, Harrison?”

For once, Harrison doesn’t play nice. He snaps, “Who knows?”

But as soon as he realizes he’s lost his cool, he quickly smooths it over with a joke.

The footage keeps rolling.

As they get closer to his house, his face first freezes, then grows darker and darker.

When I come downstairs with the Marie Cat blanket, the editors add a caption: “Giving your favorite blanket to your favorite person.”

Harrison’s mask slips—he stops acting completely.

That’s not my favorite blanket. It’s his.

When Jesse uses the blanket as a mattress and just rolls up and goes to sleep, Harrison can’t even fake a smile anymore.

The comments explode.

“Wait! That’s the Marie Cat blanket Harrison posted!”

“Oh my god, is he shipping this ship too?!”

“It’s not that Best Actor has a new girlfriend—it’s that he’s the number one ship fan!”

“I declare Harrison the number one SavvyJesse shipper! He’s the first to wave the Marie Cat flag!”

The panel can see the comments in real time—never-ending.

“Some people act all serious on the surface,” the veteran actress complains, “but in private, they’re ship fans too. He even posted on Instagram!”

“Nice acting.”

Harrison pulls me off his block list just to send me that message.

It’s funny. After all these years, I’ve always wanted his approval, but never got it.

In the end, this is how I get it.

I move my finger and block him back.

Turning off the studio lights, I see the rain outside.

As I open the door and get ready to put up my umbrella, I run into a pair of eyes full of mist.

Jesse is waiting for me under the streetlamp. Who knows how long he’s been there?

His soft hair is dripping with water, carrying the dampness and chill of a late night walk through the rain.

I suddenly remember the song he wrote five years ago:

“Waiting for my big sister’s puppy, not afraid of getting wet.”

It was his only ballad, released the day I returned to the States—the same day I married Harrison.

Just a coincidence, I tell myself.

How could it be? He’s Jesse Cole, after all.

“What are you doing here?”

I glance around and spot a few cameramen and staff not far away.

What was I even thinking just now? It’s just acting.

Anyone could stand in for me.

“Came to watch you dance. To take you home.”

Following his gaze, I look up at the practice room window.

Only someone who’s been adrift in a foreign country can understand—at the end of all your effort, when all the lights go out, having someone waiting for you under a streetlamp is the deepest wish.

I thought that person would be Harrison.

I thought coming home meant I wouldn’t be alone anymore.

But in the end, I’m still on my own.

“Savannah, let’s go home.”

His eyes are so clear, not a trace of anything else.

“I’ve wanted to say that to you for a long time.”

How can he say he’s not a good actor?

Don’t look at me with those blazing, sincere eyes—I’m too defenseless.

It’s too easy to fall for him.

I pull back, mumbling, “I’m hungry.”

Jesse drives me out for pizza.

It’s late and the place is nearly empty. The rain outside has stopped, but the air is still cool and damp.

The bubbling cheese warms my cheeks and gives Jesse’s face a golden glow.

“If my agent finds out, he’ll scold me again.”

“It’s fine, just a little treat,” he says, putting veggies in my bowl. “He won’t scold you.”

“You two go way back?”

“Yeah, we’re old friends.”

I joke, “Did you have him reach out to me on purpose? Was this all part of your plan?”

He pauses, half smiling. “Why are you suddenly so sharp?”

“Huh?” I don’t catch it. “What did you say?”

He just laughs and goes to take a call.

Through the steamy glass, his face looks wild and untamed—a far cry from the gentle side he shows me. Only at times like this do I remember how bold and unrestrained he really is.

The cameramen circle around, filming. They’ve been working over ten hours today.

I call the waiter over and order food for them too.