Page 97 of Collide
I cross my arms, glaring up at the poster. “Apparently,” I mutter, my voice thick with sarcasm.
Riley scoffs, almost like a squeal. “Oh. My. God. Elena, you’ve been hooking up withhim? He’s, like, an actual celebrity!” She’s grinning now, practically bouncing on her toes, clearly way too entertained by this.
I shoot her a withering look, air thick in my lungs. “Yeah, trust me, Ijustfound out too.”
Riley’s eyes stay glued to the poster, her mouth still agape, while I press a hand to my forehead, trying to steady my breathing.
“I mean…wow, okay.” Riley shakes her head, clearly stunned. “This is kind of insane.”
I let out a bitter laugh, still staring up at his stupid, beautiful face. “Yeah. You think?”
Riley nudges me gently, still trying to process. “Elena…are you okay?”
I shake my head, doubt clawing at my throat. “No. No, I’m not. Because the guy I thought I was falling for? He’s been lying to me this whole time.”
“Wait, you didn’t know?” she asks.
“No,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
She falls silent, finally realizing how deep this cuts. And as I stand there, my heart shattering piece by piece, I wonder if I ever really knew him at all.
My pulse roars in my ears as I try to process what I’m seeing. The crowd around me fades, voices blending into a distant hum like I’m underwater.
Riley must notice because her hand closes firmly around my wrist, grounding me. But it’s too late—the anger is already burning hot and fast through my veins, and before I can stop myself, I’m moving.
I stride toward the panel doors, every step fueled by betrayal and disbelief.
My gaze sweeps the stage, my eyes darting between the actors seated in a neat row. One of them—an actor I vaguely recognize—is wearing some kind of ridiculous horned helmet. Beside him is a stunning blonde with legs for days and a smirk like she owns the world.
And there, in the center—like this is all perfectly normal—sits Alex.
“Excuse me,” I blurt out to a staff member standing in the aisle, my voice tight with urgency. “The guy speaking now—who is he?”
The staffer arches a brow, caught off guard, but answers right away. “That’s Alexander Westerberg. He plays Thor—Thor Odinson, onThe Almighty Norse Gods. He’s?—”
His words blur into nothing as I stare at Alex—Alexander Westerberg—sitting there like he belongs to this world offlashing cameras and screaming fans, grinning that magnetic smile that mademeweak in the knees.
A whirlwind of anger and confusion churns inside me as he laughs at something the moderator says, his eyes scanning the audience, oblivious to me.
“Does anyone have any questions?” the MC calls out, smiling wide.
Without thinking, I raise my hand high—sharper, faster than anyone else—and practically snatch the microphone the moment it’s offered.
“Me.” My voice is strong and unwavering.
Alex’s gaze lands on me, and instantly, his smile falters, and his entire body stiffens.
“Hi. I’m Elena Montgomery.”
The name hits him like a punch. His face drains of color as whispers ripple through the room.
Beside him, the blonde glances between us, her smirk growing even more pleased, as if she knows something I don’t.
I tilt my chin up, refusing to let my voice shake. “I’m curious…What draws you to your character?”
It’s a stupid question. I don’t care about Thor or his character arc. I care about the man sitting on that stage—the man who lied to me.
Alex leans forward, his fingers tightening around the mic, recognition—and something like guilt—flashing in his eyes. The confident, charming mask he wears so well slips for a moment, long enough for me to see the truth.
