Chapter 1

On the day of the awards ceremony, the first thing Sebastian Mason did after winning Best Actor was announce his retirement.

The trending list exploded in seconds, but inside the agency group chat, it turned into a full-blown party.

"Can't wait to see how Bonnie Stephens cleans up this one."

"Wasn't she dying to make Sebastian a Best Actor? And now he retires for Alice Summers's sake. That's what I call devotion."

A new intern asked timidly,

"But if Sebastian retires, doesn't that mean we're all out of a job?"

Sebastian's longtime friend and bodyguard sent a grinning emoji. "You're new, so you wouldn't know. Bonnie's spent a good ten years circling Sebastian, fawning over him like crazy. No matter what mess he makes, she always mops it up. Worst case she drinks a couple more rounds with the backers to smooth things over."

"This time Alice got jealous, said she didn't like all those female fans crazy about Sebastian, so he put out the statement just to make his girl happy."

"What I'd really love to see is the look on that old woman Stephens's face right now. Probably about to blow a gasket, hahaha."

In the middle of all the flashing messages, a voice note suddenly popped up.

It was Sebastian, his voice low and hoarse,

"Knock it off, all of you. I'm busy handling something and you're driving me nuts."

That only got them more worked up, and they started demanding a title for Alice,

"The girl just graduated college, Sebastian. You can't keep sleeping with her with no name to it. Hurry up and break it off with Bonnie so we can rightfully call Alice the boss's wife."

"Do it while that old woman's swamped fixing your PR. She won't even have time to make a scene. She'll nod before she even catches what you said."

"Catches it? At her age she's just going deaf."

Everyone howled.

I opened my social media, drafted a separate statement under the agency account, and hit send.

01

"MO Agency is dissolving effective today. Its signed talent, Sebastian Mason, will no longer take part in any performance work as of this date."

"To compensate fans for all financial losses, the agency is opening a refund channel. We will fully refund and reimburse every ticket and piece of merchandise our fans have purchased over the past three years."

I pinned Sebastian's personal bank account number in the top comment under the post.

He wanted to retire, break it off, and find someone new. I would give him all of it.

Once it was sent, I closed the page and booked myself a flight to the Maldives for the next day.

In the fifteen years I dated Sebastian, I poured everything I had into his career, gave it every ounce of myself, and never took a single day off.

I lifted Sebastian into the industry, into films, all the way to Best Actor, and along the way every one of his friends got a job at the agency pulling five figures a month.

And what I got in return wasn't gratitude. It was being called a desperate simp throwing herself at him.

To get Sebastian better opportunities, I drank until my stomach bled, and got groped at those dinners.

In their mouths it was nothing, just "a couple of drinks."

They fell all over themselves to call the girl Sebastian cheated with the boss's wife.

But I'd told them so many times I hated that mocking "Old Bonnie" tag they'd stuck on me, and not one of them cared. If anything, they only said it more.

I'd told Sebastian countless times, and all he ever did was flick my nose, not caring at all, laughing that I was an old cucumber painted green, an old woman playing at being a young girl fighting for a man's favor.

While I was packing, my phone rang.

It was a snippet of an English song he'd sung himself, set the year we first got together.

"Bonnie, I wrote this song myself. I won't release it. It's just for you."

"Use it as your ringtone. From now on, when you hear it, think of me."

That boy from that year, smiling with his eyes curved soft and bright, the cleanest, clearest thing.

I picked up, and the man on the other end was breathing hard, impatient, his voice cold.

I thought he was calling to confront me about the refund post.

Or maybe he'd finally realized the chat he'd been joking around in with his friends wasn't their private group but the big one with me in it, and he wanted to explain.

But what he said was,

"Bonnie, buy a bouquet and send it to the Starlight Hotel. Pink roses."

"She's young, she wants the romance. No flowers, no touching."