The crisis meeting ended with one decision that would change everything:
Damiano and Aaliyah would speak publicly. Together.
They sat side by side on the small couch in the label's media room, cameras, lights, and PR agents swirling around them like a storm. Aaliyah's fingers trembled in her lap until Damiano reached over and laced his fingers with hers. His grip was warm, grounding, stubbornly protective.
"You ready?" he whispered.
"No," she admitted honestly, her voice faint. "But I trust you."
He kissed her knuckles gently. "Then we're ready."
THE STATEMENT
The camera blinked on, and the room fell silent. Damiano inhaled deeply and began.
"Hi. I'm Damiano David. And this is Aaliyah."
He squeezed her hand once.
"We want to clear the air. There's been a lot said about us… about our relationship… and about something very personal."
Aaliyah's heart pounded. It felt like the entire world was holding its breath.
Damiano continued, voice steady, controlled, but full of emotion.
"Yes, Aaliyah is pregnant. And yes, the baby is mine."
Aaliyah lowered her eyes as he spoke, but Damiano wasn't done.
"And I want to make something very clear: she didn't break anything. She didn't ruin my life, my band, or my career. She didn't betray anyone. I am the one who fell in love. I am the one who made mistakes. Not her."
Aaliyah looked up at him, breath catching.
He wasn't defending her—
he was choosing her.
Damiano turned to her, speaking as much to her as to the world.
"She deserves respect. She deserves privacy. She deserves peace. I won't let anyone tear her apart. Not the rumors. Not the headlines. Not the past."
A tear slid down Aaliyah's cheek without her permission.
Damiano gently wiped it away—even as the cameras rolled.
"And one last thing," he added, jaw tightening. "Our child is not a scandal. Our child is not a mistake. Our child is our future."
The PR team ended the stream.
Silence.
Then chaos.
THE WORLD REACTS
Within minutes, the internet caught fire.
#ISTANDWITHAALIYAH trended worldwide.
Fans defended her.
Others attacked.
Music blogs speculated endlessly.
But the loudest reaction came from Italy's press—
and it wasn't kind.
"HE TRADUCIDO A SU EX."
"ROMPEN 6 AÑOS POR UNA AMERICANA."
"EL BEBÉ QUE CAMBIA LA HISTORIA DE MÅNESKIN."
Aaliyah saw the headlines and felt her stomach twist, but Damiano held her close.
"Don't read anything," he murmured. "Just stay with me."
She nodded… even though her heart felt like glass.
GIORGIA STRIKES BACK
That afternoon, Giorgia posted a message online—
a long, emotional statement clearly written with trembling hands.
"I was blindsided, humiliated, and replaced publicly. I gave six years of my life to someone who chose someone else. I hope the truth sets him free. But the pain stays with me."
The comments exploded:
"Poor Giorgia."
"He destroyed her."
"Aaliyah is the villain."
"He moved on too fast."
Aaliyah stared at the screen, her chest tightening.
Damiano grabbed the phone from her hands.
"You are NOT reading her comments," he snapped.
"It's not fair," she whispered. "She's hurting because of us."
Damiano cupped her face.
"I'm sorry for what I did to her. But I won't let her pain become your punishment."
THE SURPRISE APPEARANCE
Just when the day couldn't get more overwhelming, Victoria walked into the room quietly.
"Hey," she said softly, setting two bottles of water on the table. "I—uh… I came to check on you."
Damiano blinked, surprised.
Aaliyah sat up a little.
Victoria scratched the back of her neck awkwardly.
"Look… this whole situation sucks. It really does. But seeing you collapse like that earlier… it reminded me that you're human. And we've been treating this like PR instead of what it really is."
Aaliyah swallowed thickly. "And what is it?"
"Life," Victoria said simply.
"Messy. Complicated. Real-life shit."
Victoria hesitated, then added:
"And I'm… happy for you. Both of you. Really."
Aaliyah felt tears prick again—
but this time from relief.
Damiano let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Thank you," he said honestly.
"Don't make me regret being nice," Victoria mumbled before smirking. "Now go home. You both look like death."
Later, when they finally got home, the world felt too loud.
Too bright.
Too cruel.
Damiano sat on the rug, leaning his back against the couch.
Aaliyah lay with her head on his chest, curled into him.
He traced soft circles on her arm with his fingertips.
"I'm sorry today was hell," he murmured.
"It's not your fault," she whispered. "It's our life now."
He kissed her forehead.
"We'll survive it. I promise."
Aaliyah looked up at him, eyes tired but full of love.
"Damiano… do you ever regret any of this? Us?"
He shook his head immediately.
"No. Not even a second."
His voice dropped, the words gentle and raw.
"You're the only thing that feels right in all this chaos."
Aaliyah rested her hand over her stomach.
Damiano placed his over hers—
slowly, reverently.
"We're gonna protect this baby," he whispered.
"From everything. Even from the world."
She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.
Not passionate.
Not heated.
Just safe.
Just theirs.
That night, they fell asleep wrapped in each other, not because the world was closing in—
but because they finally had something worth fighting for.