Chapter 1
Alex is mid-zoom when the shadow hits his screen.
A photo of Jackson’s mouth fills the phone. Cropped too tight. Pixels breaking at the edge where Alex pushed past what the image could hold. Teeth caught mid-laugh. A crease at the corner of his mouth Alex knows by heart.
He doesn’t hear footsteps.
He hears a voice.
“Wow.”
Too close.
Alex jerks, nearly dropping the phone. His heart slams into his throat as a body steps into his space, cutting off the light.
Jackson’s reflection stares back at him from the black glass of the screen.
“That’s a bold angle,” Jackson says. Calm. Amused. “Didn’t know you liked my mouth that much.”
Alex locks the phone too fast. Fumbles it. Catches it against his chest like that will hide what just happened.
Backstage is chaos. Someone yelling about time. Someone laughing too loud. The bass from the opening act rattling the walls.
None of it matters.
“I—” Alex clears his throat. His voice still comes out thin. “It was an accident.”
Jackson tilts his head. Studying him.
“Accident,” Jackson repeats. “Sure.”
He steps closer. One step. Casual. Effortless. He smells expensive. Clean. Wrong for this space.
Alex backs into a road case. Metal digs into his spine.
Jackson reaches out.
Takes the phone from Alex’s hands.
Doesn’t ask.
Alex’s stomach drops so hard he feels dizzy.
“Hey—” The word dies in his mouth.
Jackson unlocks the phone like he’s done it before. Scrolls.
The folder opens.
Alex feels naked.
Screenshots. Interviews. Livestream pauses. Photos Alex never meant to keep, only couldn’t bring himself to delete. Moments where Jackson looks real instead of performed.
Jackson stops scrolling.
For half a second, the smile slips.
Then it sharpens.
“Well,” he says softly. “You’re thorough.”
Embarrassment floods Alex’s skin. Hot. Suffocating. He can feel his ears burning.
“I didn’t mean to—” Alex says. “I don’t— I wasn’t—”
“Relax,” Jackson says, locking the phone. “I’m not mad.”
Hope flickers before Alex can stop it.
Jackson leans in, lowering his voice so only Alex can hear.
“Everyone looks,” he says. “You just got caught.”
Alex swallows.
“I won’t tell,” Jackson adds.
Relief hits.
Then—
“Unless I need to.”
The relief curdles.
Footsteps. The manager shouting, “Two minutes!”
Jackson straightens instantly. Public face snapping into place.
As he walks away, he glances back.
“Oh,” he says lightly. “Farm boy?”
Alex looks up.
Jackson grins. “At least favorite my good angles next time.”
Laughter bursts nearby. Not aimed at Alex. Still lands.
Jackson disappears toward the stage lights.
Alex stands frozen, phone burning in his hand.
Embarrassment clinging to his skin.
Isolation settling deep in his chest.
And the sudden, sick certainty that Jackson just learned exactly how much power he has.
