Chapter 1: Viral Kisses and Hidden Wars

Me and Savannah? We were both Hollywood’s hottest up-and-comers, and our fans had been feuding for what felt like forever.

Seriously, every single day felt like a warzone online. Our names would trend together so often it was almost boring—like LA traffic or those $7 lattes. And the rivalry? It wasn’t just about careers—it was personal. At least, for the people who followed us. Team Autumn versus Team Savannah, and neither side ever let up.

Then, out of nowhere, the tabloids dropped a bombshell. Photos. Not just of us holding hands—but kissing.

You could practically hear the collective gasp echoing across Twitter and Instagram. No warning. Just chaos. The news hit like a California earthquake—instant, wild pandemonium. People scrambled to screenshot, repost, and speculate. It was a PR disaster and a meme factory all at once.

And suddenly, both fandoms went silent:

"Wait, are you two just making us look stupid or what?"

The comment sections froze. For the first time ever, nobody had a comeback. Not a single meme. Some fans even deleted their angry posts from earlier that morning, like they’d been caught trash-talking their own siblings.

I, Autumn Carter, and Savannah Monroe—yeah, we were both at the top of our game. Same tier, similar vibe, always gunning for the same parts. Our fans never gave it a rest, always fighting for the top spot. Seriously, it was like we were born to compete.

We’d both made Forbes 30 Under 30. Magazine covers? Check. Nominated for the same awards—sometimes in the same year. Casting directors joked about flipping a coin. It was exhausting, but honestly? I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Still, the fan wars were relentless.

Every week, some massive blowup. Every couple days, a minor one. Comment threads went so deep, you’d get lost trying to scroll to the top.

Sometimes, I’d scroll through Reddit or Twitter, just to see the latest insults. Who has the time to write a ten-paragraph essay about my hair versus Savannah’s? Honestly, I’d pause and think—our fans could’ve won Pulitzer Prizes if they put that energy elsewhere.

At first, I tried to control the narrative, but whenever Savannah’s side stayed silent, my fans would back down—while hers just doubled down.

I’d try to play peacemaker, post some carefully worded statement. But Savannah? She just let her fans run wild.

I even reached out to her in private. She agreed, all polite smiles, but then turned around and posted a passive-aggressive Instagram story, never mentioning me by name but making every word about me.

She’d post something like, “Some people only know how to play the victim,” with a perfectly filtered selfie. I mean, come on. The subtweet energy was off the charts. I’d just stare at my phone, jaw clenched. Was I overreacting? Or did everyone else see it too?

I was speechless—completely, utterly speechless. No words. Just shock.

It was one of those moments where you want to chuck your phone out the window. But you know you’ll just buy a new one and scroll again anyway. I just sat there, stunned, staring at her story and wondering what the hell I’d done to deserve this.

My fans couldn’t take it. They rushed to defend me. And just like that—another round of battle.

Within an hour, #SavannahFake trended. I tried to calm them down, but it was like trying to stop a wildfire with a garden hose.

From then on, it was official. Savannah and I? Enemies.

The press ate it up. Every entertainment site ran think-pieces about our "feud." Even my mom called. “Are you okay?” We were Hollywood’s favorite drama, and we didn’t even have to act.

Walking the red carpet? Comparison time. New movie? Head-to-head. Winning an award? The mutual shade got even nastier.

People would zoom in on our dresses, our shoes, even our jewelry—anything to find evidence that one of us was "winning" or "throwing shade." I once wore a red lip, and Savannah wore nude, and suddenly it was "Autumn goes bold while Savannah plays it safe." Like, seriously. Can’t we just have different makeup tastes?

Basically, anywhere our names popped up together—boom, another silent war.

Didn’t matter if we were at the same restaurant or just posted about the same charity event—fans would find a way to make it a competition. I swear, if we both donated to the same animal shelter, fans would argue about who loved puppies more. Like, get a grip.

Over time, the rumors became public knowledge. Everyone watched the drama unfold—including our rivals. Anytime we were in the same frame, it was guaranteed tabloid gold.

It got to the point where I couldn’t even post a selfie without someone commenting, “Where’s Savannah?” or “Bet Savannah’s jealous.” I started to dread seeing her at industry events. The paparazzi? They basically set up camp outside our houses.

So I tried to avoid running into Savannah wherever possible. Hollywood’s not that big, but it’s not tiny either. Still, somehow, I kept running into her.

It was like fate—or just really bad luck—kept throwing us together. One time, I ran into her at the same vegan brunch spot twice in one week. I started wondering if she was stalking me, or if we just had the same taste in overpriced avocado toast. (Probably the latter. Probably.)

I had to keep up appearances, always flashing that fake smile. Hollywood 101.

You know that fake smile you plaster on at a family reunion when you see someone you can’t stand? Yeah. That was me, every time Savannah walked in.

Case in point: this one industry party. She showed up in a long red dress. Cameras everywhere. Paparazzi everywhere.

Hollywood rooftop party. Fairy lights, signature cocktails, too many influencers. I was halfway through my second glass of champagne when I spotted her across the room, looking like she owned the place. Of course, she headed straight for me.

Like they say, you can’t punch someone who’s smiling at you.

I tried to brace myself, telling myself to stay cool. She smiled so sweetly, the photographers practically swooned. I was ready for a showdown. But instead—

I was forcing a smile when she breezed right past me. She didn’t even look at me. Just breezed right past.

She didn’t even pause. Just glided by, like I was invisible. Ouch.

Damn! She played me again.

I clenched my jaw, fighting to keep my cool. Savannah was always two steps ahead.

Sure enough, before the party was even over, someone posted the whole awkward thing to TikTok.

Someone had caught the whole awkward interaction on their phone and posted it to TikTok. By the time I got home, it had already racked up a million views. My notifications wouldn’t stop buzzing. Typical.

Honestly, you’ve got to hand it to the paparazzi. Those guys don’t miss a thing.

#SavannahIgnoresAutumn

#WhyAreTheTopTwoStarsAtOdds

#TheUntoldStoryOfAutumnAndSavannah

Those hashtags were everywhere. Even my grandma texted me a screenshot. Thanks, Grandma.

When I saw #AutumnStealsSavannahsRoles, I almost rolled my eyes on the spot. Hollywood is competitive, but not everything is a conspiracy. Still, the rumors spread like wildfire.

She started the mess, but I had to take the blame with her. Would it kill her to just smile at me?

I just wanted one normal, civil interaction. Was that too much to ask? Apparently, yes.

Sometimes I wondered if she actually enjoyed the drama.

Either way, I was sick of it.

On the outside, I looked spaced out, but inside, I was cursing her out. My opinion of Savannah dropped even lower. If that was even possible.

I forced myself to look calm, but my mind was running a mile a minute. I mentally composed a list of all the ways Savannah annoyed me—spoiler alert, it was a long list.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I’m a top star too—I have a temper, okay?

I wasn’t about to let her walk all over me. I’d worked too hard for that. If she wanted a fight, she’d get one.

Just as I was about to throw a diva fit and leave, Savannah came over—again. Here we go again.

She moved with this effortless confidence, like she owned the room. Heads turned. Of course they did.

She walked toward me with a presence that felt six feet tall. And she’s only, what, five-seven?

Her heels echoed. She looked like she belonged on a magazine cover.

Fine. Time to play it cool. No way was I giving her the satisfaction of making the first move.

And then, out of nowhere, I heard a voice. In my head.

"Ugh, is my baby Autumn mad at me?"

The voice was soft, almost whiny, echoing in my mind. I blinked, confused, wondering if I’d had too much champagne.

"It’s all your fault, stupid system. When is this mission going to end?"

Am I seriously hearing voices now? This can’t be happening.

"What if my Autumn starts hating me more and more?"

"If I end up single, you better take responsibility, you useless system!"

"Forget it, even if you did, you’re nowhere near as cute and soft as my Autumn baby."

System: "..."

Me: "???!!!"

What the actual hell?

I looked around, half-expecting someone to jump out and say I was being pranked. But everyone was just mingling, oblivious to my confusion. Was I actually going crazy?

I knew that voice inside and out, but... Savannah hadn’t opened her mouth. And would she even say something like that? Was I so mad at her that I was hallucinating?

I pinched my arm, just to check. Nope—definitely awake. But that voice sounded so much like Savannah, it was unnerving.

No, no. I’m not mad, I’m not mad—making myself sick over it would be pointless.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself. Maybe I just needed to get some air.

But then—

"Ugh, why’s my Autumn spacing out? So cute."

System (gentle): "Host, a new mission has arrived."

Savannah immediately went on the defensive: "You’re such a buzzkill! Just say it—how am I supposed to hurt my Autumn baby this time?!"

The system’s cold voice sounded again: "Kiss her."

Savannah looked annoyed: "I knew it... Wait, what did you say?"

"Kiss her?"

Her gaze slid over to me, a faint, almost imperceptible smile at the corner of her mouth.

It was like she was sharing an inside joke with herself. I shivered, suddenly feeling exposed. Something weird was definitely going on.

I got goosebumps all over—something felt off.

My heart started racing. I felt like I was in a horror movie, except the villain was my own brain.

Before I could move, Savannah walked up to me with her wine glass.

She moved with purpose, her eyes locked on mine. I froze, unsure what to do.

"Autumn, long time no see."

She spoke first.

Her voice was smooth, almost teasing. I braced myself for whatever game she was playing.

Please. Didn’t we just see each other two days ago?

I shot back without holding back, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few paparazzi already set up with their cameras. I immediately forced a smile.

I didn’t want to give the tabloids more ammo, so I plastered on my best red-carpet grin, even as I glared at her.

"That was my fault earlier. I didn’t mean it. Can you forgive me?"

She sounded sincere, but I was so startled I took a step back.

My instincts screamed that she was up to something. Savannah never apologized unless she wanted something.

What was she plotting now?

I narrowed my eyes, trying to read her. She just looked back at me, all wide-eyed innocence.

Just as I was wondering, that weird voice came back, sounding all aggrieved:

"It’s all your fault for making me do so many bad things. Now Autumn won’t even come near me—boohoo."

"That step back really broke my heart."

Autumn baby?

I stared at her tightly closed lips, barely able to keep my shock off my face. No one else was nearby.

I glanced around, making sure no one was close enough to hear us. Savannah’s lips hadn’t moved. Yet I could hear her voice as clear as day, echoing in my head.

So... I could hear her thoughts?

Was this—mind reading?

I was so startled by my own guess I nearly jumped.

I gripped my glass tighter, half-expecting it to shatter. This couldn’t be real. But the evidence was right in front of me.

I tried to steady my breathing. Okay, Autumn, you’re not crazy. You’re just... psychic now. Sure, why not?

I pulled myself together and hurried off to a quiet corner. Only when I was alone did I finally let out a breath, but when I turned around, Savannah had followed me.

She moved silently, like a cat. I spun around, startled to find her right behind me.

I was about to say something when she pressed a finger to my lips and whispered, "There are paparazzi following us."

Her finger was soft, and her breath tickled my ear. I felt a shiver run down my spine. She was close—too close.

I frowned, but she pulled me into a deserted stairwell.

She didn’t give me a choice, just grabbed my hand and tugged me through the door. The echo of our footsteps bounced off the concrete walls.

"So what if there are paparazzi? We haven’t done anything wrong. Why are we hiding?"

I shook off her hand and looked at her, confused.

I wasn’t about to play along with her weird games. I crossed my arms, giving her my best "don’t mess with me" glare.

Her red lips curled up, and she slammed the stairwell door shut, leaning in to pin me against the wall.

The bang of the door made me jump. Suddenly, she was inches from my face, her perfume filling the air between us.

"What—what are you doing?"

My cool facade shattered instantly. I reached out to push her, but she easily caught my hand.

She was stronger than she looked. I tried to wriggle free, but her grip was firm.

I suddenly remembered she’d practiced taekwondo since she was a kid, so I gave up struggling. But I wasn’t about to just take it, so I glared at her.

She’d always been athletic. I realized I didn’t stand a chance in a physical standoff. Still, I refused to look intimidated.

"Sorry, baby, but we really do need to do something a little scandalous."

She held me against the wall and leaned in.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, teasing and dangerous. I felt my cheeks flush.

Realizing what she was about to do, my eyes went wide and I turned my head away.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for whatever was coming.

Her lips landed on my cheek.

It was soft and warm. For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

I stood there, stunned, completely frozen.

My mind went blank. I didn’t know whether to slap her or run away.

By the time I snapped out of it, my face was burning hot.

I could feel the blush creeping all the way to my ears. I wanted to yell, but my voice caught in my throat.

"You jerk!"

Savannah straightened up, her eyes soft: "I deserve that. Go ahead and yell at me."

She looked almost apologetic, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes. I wanted to be mad, but she made it hard.

The system’s voice chimed in at the worst possible moment: [Host, mission complete.]

Savannah protested: [No way! A kiss on the cheek doesn’t count! Useless system, do you even know what you’re doing? Let me show you how it’s done!]

[Watch this.]

Before I could react, Savannah kissed me right on the lips—deeply, insistently, even licking them.

My eyes went wide as she leaned in. It wasn’t just a peck—it was a full-on, Hollywood-romance kind of kiss. I felt her tongue flick against my lips, and I almost forgot where we were.

Oh my god. This time, my ears turned bright red.

I’d never blushed so hard in my life. If the paparazzi caught this, I was doomed.

Savannah stood up, satisfied: [See? That’s what a real kiss looks like.]

The system was stunned into silence.

Me: "..."

I couldn’t even form words. My mind was a jumbled mess.

Savannah, taking advantage of her height, ruffled my hair.

She grinned, looking way too pleased with herself. I wanted to smack her hand away, but I was still in shock.

I was so annoyed, I felt rattled.

I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, glaring at her. "You’re unbelievable."

"Savannah, you’re such a perv! What’s wrong with you? Do you even know what you’re doing?"

I tried to sound angry, but my voice came out shaky. She just shrugged, unfazed.

"Whatever you say, Autumn."

She just took it, no matter how much I yelled—so different from before.

She didn’t even try to defend herself. It was like she enjoyed seeing me flustered.

I was losing it. I was starting to seriously suspect Savannah was possessed.

I studied her face, searching for any sign of the old Savannah. Was this really her?

I turned away and stared at the wall, questioning my life choices.

How did I end up in a stairwell, getting kissed by my supposed nemesis? Hollywood was wild.

Savannah was startled by my reaction.

She looked genuinely worried, her confidence faltering for the first time all night.

"Autumn, what’s wrong? I’m sorry, I went too far. Please don’t be mad, okay? I should’ve asked for your permission. Next time—next time I’ll ask first, okay?"

Her voice was soft, almost pleading. I could tell she meant it, but I was too embarrassed to look at her.

Next time?!

I buried my head even deeper, wanting nothing to do with her.

I mumbled something into my sleeve, hoping she’d take the hint and leave me alone.

Savannah spent half an hour whispering apologies and sweet nothings in my ear. She was really persistent.

She tried every trick in the book—compliments, jokes, even singing a little. I pretended not to care, but I was secretly a little charmed.

I finally muttered, "Fine, let’s just leave it at that."

I didn’t want to admit it, but she wore me down. I couldn’t stay mad forever.

Savannah barely had time to breathe before I jumped back: "But I’m not forgetting everything you did before!"

I pointed a finger at her, just to make sure she knew I wasn’t letting her off the hook that easily.

"I’m never forgiving you!"

I stormed off, afraid she’d latch onto me again.

I practically ran out of the stairwell, heart pounding. I needed space to think.

If I remembered right, didn’t she have some kind of system in her head? Sounded pretty high-tech.

I’d heard rumors about celebrities using meditation apps or life coaches, but a "system"? That was next level. Maybe she was just crazy—or maybe I was.

A few days later, the trending topic was taken down. I didn’t care—I was used to it by now. The more popular you are, the more drama you attract. Better that than being so irrelevant no one even knows your name.

I shrugged it off. At least I was still relevant. In Hollywood, that’s half the battle.

...