The explosion hit faster than either of them expected. By noon, the rumors weren't rumors anymore—they were global headlines.
Every news app, every music blog, every gossip account had plastered the same words everywhere:
"DAMIANO DAVID EXPECTING CHILD WITH AMERICAN SINGER AALIYAH."
"THE REAL REASON BEHIND HIS BREAKUP WITH GIORGIA?"
"TWO LOVERS WASN'T JUST A SONG—IT WAS A CONFESSION."
The comments were brutal. Some supportive. Most vicious.
Aaliyah stared at her phone as if it had personally betrayed her. Thousands of strangers tearing apart her life, her body, her relationship—all within an hour.
Her hands shook uncontrollably.
Damiano paced the living room like a caged animal, every headline making his jaw clench tighter. "They're twisting everything," he muttered. "They're making it sound like you ruined my entire life."
Aaliyah swallowed hard, her voice thin. "Or like I trapped you."
He stopped instantly, his eyes flashing with anger—not at her, but at the world. "No. Don't ever say that. You didn't trap me. You didn't force anything. I chose you."
Before she could respond, there was a loud knock on the door. Then another.
Then voices—multiple voices.
Aaliyah froze. "Is that—"
"The press," Damiano finished, fury burning in his expression. "They found the apartment."
Panic hit her chest like a punch. "Damiano… I can't—I can't do this."
He grabbed her face gently, forcing her to look at him. "Hey, hey… breathe. I'm here."
But the chaos didn't stop.
His phone rang. It was his manager.
"Come to the studio. Now. The band needs to talk."
Damiano cursed under his breath. "Aaliyah, I don't want to leave you—"
"I'll go with you," she whispered, though she was visibly shaking. She didn't want to be alone. Not with reporters at the door. Not with the headlines suffocating her. Not with her entire world collapsing.
They left through the back exit to avoid cameras.
But even there—clicks. Flashes. Voices shouting her name.
Aaliyah hid behind Damiano's arm, her heart pounding against her ribs.
THE STUDIO: THE INTERVENTION
The moment they entered, the atmosphere was thick—cold, tense, angry.
Victoria's arms were crossed. Thomas didn't look at them. Ethan leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable.
"Tell us this isn't true," Victoria said without hesitation.
Damiano tightened his grip on Aaliyah's hand. "It is."
Thomas exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. "Damiano… how could you hide something this big?"
"It's my life," Damiano shot back. "My relationship. My child."
Ethan glanced at Aaliyah, softer than the others, but still serious. "You should've trusted us. We're family."
Aaliyah felt guilt twist inside her. "I didn't want to cause problems—"
Thomas interrupted. "This affects the band. Tours. Contracts. The album. Everything."
Damiano's voice lowered to something dangerous. "Don't put this on her. I'm the one who—"
Victoria cut him off, frustration edging her tone. "We're not blaming anyone. We're trying to understand." She sighed. "This should've come from you, not the internet."
Aaliyah's stomach twisted painfully.
Her vision blurred.
Her pulse raced.
The room felt like it was closing in on her.
All the whispers, the headlines, the accusations…
It was too much.
"Damiano…" she whispered weakly, grabbing onto his arm. "I don't feel good."
He turned instantly. "Aaliyah? Hey—hey, look at me—"
But she couldn't.
Her breathing quickened, shallow and uneven.
Her knees buckled.
Damiano caught her just before she collapsed.
"Aaliyah!" he panicked, lifting her into his arms. "We need a medic—someone get water—"
But Aaliyah's eyes stayed half-closed, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"I can't take this," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't handle the world hating me. I can't handle ruining everything for you."
Damiano's heart shattered at the words.
"Stop. Stop saying that," he begged, holding her tighter. "You didn't ruin anything. You are the best thing that ever happened to me."
Victoria, her anger gone, rushed over with water.
Ethan moved chairs aside.
Thomas grabbed a towel.
Because in that moment, they all realized—
She wasn't the problem.
The pressure was.
When her breathing finally slowed, Damiano cradled her face between his hands.
"We're making a statement," he said firmly. "Today. Right now."
The band exchanged glances. "What kind of statement?" Thomas asked cautiously.
"The truth," Damiano said. "All of it. Together."
Aaliyah's voice was fragile. "You'd do that? For… us?"
He kissed her forehead softly, tenderly, almost desperately.
"For you, I'd burn every headline in the world."