Page 21 of Star Rucked Lovers

She laughed softly, the sound lightening the tension just enough to let her lean closer, close enough for her knee to press more firmly against his. “You’re doing better than you think,” she said, her voice gentle now. “Trust me, this world isn’t easy for anyone. Half the time, I don’t know if I’m handling it right either.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” He gave her a sidelong glance, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You make it look effortless.”

“Effortless?” She snorted, shaking her head. “George, I spend most days terrified I’m going to mess it all up. My career, my relationships… you. Especially you.”

“Me?” His brows furrowed, genuinely surprised.

“Yes, you,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. There was no hiding behind humor now. “You have no idea how scared I am that all of this,” she gestured vaguely to the skyline, the invisible pressures hanging over them, “is going to push you away. That I’ll lose you because of… because of who I have to be out there.”

“Hey.” He set his mug down on the ground before reaching for her hand. His fingers closed around hers, warm and grounding. “You’re not going to lose me, alright? I’m stubborn, remember? Takes more than a few tabloid headlines to scare me off.”

“Even if they call you my ‘bit of rough’?” she teased lightly, though her voice wavered.

“Especially that.” His grin broke through then, lopsided and endearing. “I’m not exactly polished, am I?”

“Not even close.” She laughed again, the sound softer this time, but real.

For a while, they sat like that, their hands entwined, the river below carrying their silence like a melody. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was enough. Enough to remind them why they were here, despite everything pulling at them.

“One day at a time?” she asked quietly, her thumb brushing over his knuckles.

“One day at a time,” he agreed, squeezing her hand. Still, as they turned back to the view, both felt the weight lingering in the background, the understanding that love, however strong, wouldn’t erase the challenges ahead. But tonight, they’d chosen to try. And for now, that was enough.

Chapter Seven

The plane touched downsmoothly on the tarmac at Charles de Gaulle, and George barely had time to take in the towering glass windows of the airport before Myst was whisked away. A swarm of people awaited her just past customs, their voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony: her manager barking updates about interviews, a stylist waving a garment bag as though it held the answers to life itself, and Jessie with her ever-present clipboard rattling off times like she was conducting a military operation. George stood slightly behind Myst, his duffel slung over one shoulder, feeling more like an afterthought than a boyfriend.

“George,” Myst said, turning back to him with an apologetic smile. Her pale blue eyes softened, even as her hands clutched the edge of the itinerary Jessie had just thrust into them. “I’m so sorry, love. They’re... intense.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, forcing a grin. “I’ll be fine. Go be brilliant.”

“Promise you’ll explore? Paris is magic if you let it be.” She squeezed his hand briefly before being pulled into the current of her team, disappearing like a speck of glitter caught in the sunlight.

George sighed, adjusting the strap of his bag. He’d meant what he said, he’d be fine, but standing there alone in one of the most romantic cities in the world while Myst was swept into her whirlwind of fame left him feeling oddly untethered. Still, he wasn’t going to waste the chance to see Paris.

By mid-afternoon, George had checked off more landmarks than he thought possible for one day. The Eiffel Tower stood regal and unbothered against the grey winter sky, but as George stared up at its intricate iron lattice, he felt... small. Without Myst beside him, the city’s famed romance fell flat.

He wandered along the Seine next, snapping photos he wasn’t sure he’d ever look at again. Couples strolled by arm-in-arm, laughing as though they’d stepped straight out of a postcard. George shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling like an outsider peering through a frosted window.

“Right,” he muttered under his breath. “Paris, magic, all that.”

The next day, George arrived at Le Zénith Paris early, stepping into the vast auditorium with its high ceilings and rows upon rows of empty seats. Myst’s voice, warm and electric, echoed through the space as she rehearsed on stage. George leaned against the sound booth, arms folded, watching her.

She was incredible. There wasn’t a better word for it. Myst commanded the stage like it was an extension of herself, her voice soaring effortlessly above the quiet strums of her band. Even without an audience, she shone, her energy palpable from where George stood. He couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride, and maybe something deeper, as he watched her move from one song to the next.

“Again, Myst,” called her manager from the front row, cutting through the applause of the band. “You’re dragging the tempo on the bridge. It needs to be tighter.”

“Her phrasing’s off too,” chimed in someone George didn’t recognize, a wiry man with a clipboard who looked like he hadn’t slept in years. “Myst, can you try bringing more energy into ‘Wildfire’? It feels flat.”

“Flat?” Myst repeated, her voice laced with exhaustion, though she hid it well. “Okay, sure. I’ll give it another go.”

George frowned, his admiration warring with concern. He knew Myst was used to this level of scrutiny, but even he could hear how sharp and vibrant her performance already was. Yet she nodded without complaint, flipping the mic in her hand and diving back into the song as though nothing phased her.

“Excusez-moi?” came a voice from George’s right. He turned to find the venue manager, stocky, balding, with a clipboard tucked under one arm, studying him skeptically.

“Je ne parle pas francais,” George said apologetically, about the only words he knew in French, but the man cut him off with a wave of his hand and switched smoothly to English.

“No problem. We’ve got some VIPs coming in later; make sure security’s tight near the green rooms.”

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