Zaya's phone buzzed relentlessly as she stepped into Starveil University the next morning. Every notification seemed louder than the last, every alert a hammer pounding in her chest. Screenshots, gossip threads, memes—all amplifying last night's image of her and Drayven Coldhart, and the city's imagination had already run wild.
Her fingers hovered over the first notification before she forced herself to ignore it. She didn't need proof—she already knew what the world thought: they were a couple. Some of her classmates whispered as she passed, stifled giggles and sideways glances following her like shadows.
"Wow," Kendra muttered, following her into the courtyard. "I didn't think it could get worse, but apparently, Veloria's social scene has no mercy."
Zaya tried to keep her expression neutral. "I just… I can't control it. None of it is real."
Kendra raised an eyebrow. "None of it? Zaya, your entire face was plastered all over social media last night. And people are talking—everyone is talking. Even Tasha Quillvine posted about it."
Zaya groaned, flopping onto a bench. Tasha Quillvine, the influencer who ruled over Veloria's love rumors like a queen, had already crafted a post analyzing the image, speculating about motives, chemistry, and compatibility. The comments were a wild mix of admiration, envy, and judgment.
"I need to—" Zaya began, but a notification popped up mid-sentence: "Drayven Coldhart spotted leaving Velvet Lounge. With you?"
Her chest tightened. Velvet Lounge wasn't even their scene. Someone had captured him—or at least the world assumed so.
"He's everywhere," Kendra said, almost in disbelief. "You can't escape. Not now. Not with Veloria watching."
Zaya wanted to run, to disappear into anonymity. But she couldn't. Drayven's presence had introduced a new kind of chaos into her life, one that she couldn't ignore even if she wanted to.
Across town, Drayven sat in his penthouse, scrolling through his own feed with a faintly amused expression. Royce had prepared a dossier, monitoring every trending hashtag and influencer post mentioning his name.
"Sir," Royce said cautiously, "social media traction is escalating. LoveLynk, Raina, Tasha—they're all featuring Ms. Moonfell and you in posts. Public assumption: you're a couple. The audience is… captivated."
Drayven's eyes narrowed, dark and unreadable. "Captivated," he repeated. His voice was flat, almost detached, but Royce noticed the subtle tension in his jaw. "And how many of them are wrong?"
"All of them, sir," Royce replied. "No confirmed relationship. But speculation spreads faster than truth."
Drayven leaned back, letting the leather chair conform to his frame. He knew the power of rumors, of perception. Yet, despite the detachment he usually maintained, there was something… compelling about the chaos Zaya Moonfell seemed to attract. Something dangerous. Something real.
"Arrange a meeting," he said finally. "With the influencer."
Royce froze. "Tasha Quillvine?"
"Yes. Discreetly. I want to know exactly how much she knows, and what she plans."
Back at the university, Zaya tried to focus on lectures, but every glance from a peer reminded her of the storm outside the classroom walls. Rumors traveled fast, but social media made them instantaneous, permanent, and humiliatingly visible. She felt exposed, analyzed, judged, and yet… alive in a way that scared her.
During lunch, Kendra pulled her into a corner of the courtyard. "You need a strategy. You can't just ignore this. People will believe whatever story suits them. And if you don't respond… they'll make one up, probably worse than reality."
Zaya pinched the bridge of her nose. "Strategy? Kendra, it's social media. I can't control it. Not him, not the posts, not anything."
"You can control how you respond," Kendra countered. "Not publicly, maybe—but privately. Drayven isn't just some random guy. He's calculated. And if he wants something… he'll get it. You're in the middle of it, whether you like it or not."
Her thoughts drifted back to yesterday's drive, the loft, the subtle tension, the brief brush of fingers. She hated admitting it, but the pull was undeniable. And social media didn't just expose her—it amplified the connection she couldn't name, couldn't tame.
By mid-afternoon, a notification drew her attention: a tagged post from Tasha Quillvine herself.
"Love or headline grab? Moonfell x Coldhart: Veloria's newest scandal or the beginning of a power romance? #LoveLynkAnalysis #VeloriaElite"
The post analyzed their image, body language, and supposed chemistry. It even quoted anonymous sources claiming inside knowledge of the "gala interaction." Comments flooded in. Some defended Zaya, some criticized her, and some fantasized about the power dynamics.
Zaya felt her stomach twist. She wanted to vanish. But at the same time… a strange thrill coursed through her. This wasn't just gossip—it was attention. Uncomfortable, intense, unavoidable attention.
Across the city, Drayven noticed the spike in online chatter, and he let a small smirk appear. His plan wasn't to be a social media figure. But watching Zaya navigate it—seeing her react, seeing her resilience—was… enlightening.
"Observe," he murmured to Royce, almost under his breath. "And report everything."
Royce nodded, accustomed to the quiet intensity of his employer's focus.
Later that evening, Zaya returned to her apartment, exhausted. The notifications hadn't stopped. Screenshots, DMs, gossip blogs—it was relentless. She sank onto the sofa, phone in hand, and realized she hadn't even checked the message from Drayven yet.
It read simply: "Meet me. Tomorrow. Private. We need to discuss the… situation. —D.C."
Her pulse spiked. Every instinct screamed caution. Social media, influencers, rumors—they were all swirling, a storm threatening to engulf her. And he wanted to meet. Alone.
Kendra appeared in the doorway, arms crossed. "Going?" she asked flatly.
"I… I have to," Zaya said. "I can't ignore him. And… maybe it's better if I face it head-on before it gets worse."
"Better? Or dangerous?" Kendra pressed.
Zaya didn't answer. She didn't know yet. But deep down, she felt the pull of something more than fear—something intoxicating, magnetic, and impossible to resist.
The next day, Zaya arrived at the agreed location: a quiet café tucked away from prying eyes. Drayven was already there, seated at a corner table, hands resting lightly on the surface, posture immaculate, gaze calculating.
"Zaya," he said, voice even. "Thank you for coming."
She swallowed, trying to maintain composure. "You said we needed to talk."
"Yes." He gestured to the empty seat across from him. "Sit."
As she lowered herself into the chair, she felt the weight of every rumor, every comment, every assumption crashing down. And yet, she also felt a strange sense of clarity. This was real. Here. And whatever Veloria City said or thought didn't matter. Not in this room.
He slid a tablet toward her. On the screen were several viral posts: screenshots of comments, influencer analyses, and trend graphs showing how fast the speculation had spread.
"Social media isn't just a distraction," he said. "It's a weapon. And right now… you're involved whether you like it or not."
Zaya's fingers traced the edge of the tablet. "And what do you want me to do about it?"
He leaned back, eyes locked on hers. "I want you to survive it. Discreetly. Calmly. Effectively. You have a presence that commands attention, whether you want it or not. I want you to learn how to navigate that without losing yourself."
"And if I fail?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He tilted his head, a shadow of a smirk flickering. "Then you learn quickly. And perhaps… you learn more about yourself than you expect."
Her chest tightened. There was danger in his words. A thrill. A subtle promise.
Hours passed as they discussed strategies—how to respond, when to ignore, and how to remain composed in the eye of the storm. Zaya realized that this forced proximity was teaching her something dangerous: control wasn't about denying attention—it was about wielding it. And with Drayven guiding her… everything felt simultaneously thrilling and terrifying.
By the time they parted, the sun had dipped below the skyline, Veloria's lights shimmering like a thousand secrets waiting to be revealed. Zaya walked back to her apartment, exhausted, her mind replaying every glance, every word. Social media might have started the storm, but being close to him—their proximity, his presence—had made it personal.
And she didn't know whether to be terrified or exhilarated.