Breaking News
N O A H
The conference room’s massive wooden table was so polished that Noah could see Luna’s reflection on it, right next to a cup of coffee that had turned into ice.
Noah leaned back in his chair, one arm resting lazily against the armrest, his expression unreadable as the discussion unfolded in front of him.
Across the table, voices overlapped.
“...we need to control the narrative early—”
“—exclusivity is key, we don’t want overexposure too soon—”
“—mystery will drive engagement—”
“—sign non-disclosure agreements—”
Beside him, Luna sat with her back straight, composed as ever, her hands folded neatly on the table. She looked calm—almost detached—but Noah had learned enough to recognize the small tells. The slight tension in her shoulders. The way her fingers pressed together just a little too firmly. He knew she was listening to everything.
Chuck stood at the head of the table, tablet in hand, the glow reflecting faintly against his glasses. “We’re looking at a soft launch,” he said. “No direct confirmation. Just enough to get people talking.”
Jimmy leaned forward, clearly energized. “Silhouettes. Late-night shots. Something intimate but ambiguous.”
Denise nodded in agreement. “No faces yet. Let the public speculate. It’ll spread faster that way.”
“And timeline?” Noah finally spoke, his voice cutting cleanly through the room.
All eyes turned to him. Noah’s gaze flickered briefly to Luna.
Chuck adjusted his stance. “We’re thinking about a few months. Three to six, depending on traction.”
“Or,” Denise added, “until the public gets bored.”
Noah hummed softly.
“Audience fatigue is real,” Jimmy said. “We ride the peak, then exit before it turns.”
Noah tapped his fingers lightly against the table. Silence settled for a brief moment.
“And rules?” Luna asked, her voice was calm and measured.
Noah glanced at her. There it was again—that balance she held so carefully.
Chuck didn’t miss a beat.
“Respect each other and don’t cross boundaries. This is professional, not personal—treat it like a workplace,” he said. “Public appearances will be coordinated. No contradicting statements. This remains top secret, so keep your mouth shut. And... let us know immediately if something goes wrong.”
“That’s absolutely right!” Jimmy snapped his fingers, “Oh—and we’ll need consistency. Body language, tone—everything has to sell!”
Noah let out a quiet breath through his nose, almost amused.
Luna didn’t look at him. But he caught the almost imperceptible shift in her expression.
“This doesn’t change my schedule,” Noah said, leaning back. “My show runs as usual.”
Chuck nodded. “Of course. In fact, we’d like to integrate Luna into it. Maybe once or twice. Or more...”
She went still. Then, she turned slightly toward him, “Your show?”
Noah met her gaze. There was curiosity there now.
“Guest appearance,” Denise explained. “It keeps you visible during your break, and it ties your narratives together.”
Jimmy grinned. “New dynamic. Fresh content. People will eat it up.”
Noah watched Luna carefully as she thought and weighed her decision.
“I’ll do it,” she said after a moment.
“Good,” Chuck said. “Then we move to phase one.”
Jimmy clapped his hands once. “Photoshoot!”
The city looked different at two in the morning, like it finally allowed itself to rest. The street they’d chosen was lined with old buildings—European architecture, wrought iron balconies, narrow windows glowing faintly from within. Yellow street lamps cast warm light along the pavement, reflecting faintly against the ground.
Noah adjusted the cuffs of his suit, the fabric crisp against his skin. His coat hung loosely over his shoulders, the night air cool but not unpleasant.
Across from him, Luna stood beneath one of the lamps.
She wore something elegant tonight—a white, flowing dress. It was still her, but softer. Her curled hair fell naturally over her shoulders, catching the light in quiet strands.
For a moment, he forgot why they were there.
“Positions!” Jimmy called out. Reality snapped back into place.
Noah walked toward her. The space between them closed quickly—closer than it had any right to be.
“Remember,” Denise said from behind the camera. “No faces. Just silhouettes. Suggestion, not confirmation.”
Noah nodded once.
Luna didn’t speak, but she didn’t step back either.
“Closer,” Jimmy instructed.
Noah stepped in carefully. Now they were standing within inches. He could feel the faint warmth of her through the thin space between them. Her breath was steady—but not completely.
“Turn slightly,” Denise said. “Angle more toward each other.”
Noah shifted, one hand hovering near her waist—not touching, but close enough to imply it.
“Perfect,” someone muttered. The camera shutter clicked again and again.
“More natural,” Jimmy urged. “Like you actually want to be here.”
Noah glanced down at her. Her gaze flickered up to meet his.
“Do you want to be here?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence between them.
“I do want to be here. Can’t you see I’m being professional?” Luna replied.
Noah looked at her, searching for any hint of a lie—but before he could say anything, a drop of rain landed on his sleeve. Within seconds, the drizzle turned into a steady fall.
“This is amazing! This is perfect!” Jimmy excitedly shouted.
“Keep going!” Chuck added with enthusiasm. “This is gold!”
The rain soaked through quickly, darkening the pavement but softening the glow of the streetlights into something almost cinematic.
Luna flinched slightly as the rain touched her shoulders, and Noah moved without thinking. He slipped off his coat and draped it over her. The oversized fabric settled around her frame, keeping her dry and warm.
She looked up at him while holding his coat over her head, her eyes wide.
Noah reached into his pocket, the metallic click of his car keys cutting through the sound of the downpour. He made a quick run for the car, returning a moment later with a heavy black umbrella. With a snap, he opened it in one fluid motion, immediately angling it toward Luna to shield her from the spray. He didn’t seem to notice—or care—that his own shoulder was already turning dark with rain.
“You can give my coat back later,” he said lightly. “I’d prefer not to lose it.”
Her lips parted slightly. Then, almost unconsciously, she lowered the coat from her head and helped him slip it back on. The movement was small and unrehearsed.
Something about it felt—
"PERFECT!”
The shout shattered the silence like a sudden crack of thunder.
They both stayed in place while the camera clicked rapidly.
“HOLD IT! HOLD THAT POSITION!” The command echoed as the session stretched on.
Luna’s arms were draped around Noah’s tall frame, but he could tell her muscles were starting to ache from the rigid pose. Without breaking the shot, he reached for her, his large hand guiding hers to rest more firmly against his shoulder, anchoring her.
“Uh... thank you,” Luna murmured, her voice barely a breath. “I was actually getting tired.”
“You’re welcome,” Noah replied, his voice dropping into a teasing hum. “And thank you for helping me into my coat, sweetie.”
Luna rolled her eyes, fighting the traitorous smile tugging at her lips. She lifted her right hand and gave his shoulder a sharp, playful smack. “Shut up.”
Noah’s face immediately contorted. He winced, his features scrunching in apparent pain. “Ouch! Careful—I have an injury there!”
The color drained from Luna’s face. “Oh my gosh—I’m so sorry! I didn’t know... I really didn’t mean to—”
She started to reach out, her hands fluttering in frantic apology, before she caught the predatory glint of mischief in his dark eyes.
“I’m kidding,” Noah cut in, rotating his shoulder with theatrical ease. A slow, devastating smirk spread across his face. “But now you definitely owe me a massage.”
The tension broke as they both laughed. Above them, the rhythm of the rain had yet to soften into a drizzle, but the atmosphere was shifting.
By the time they wrapped, the rain had stopped, leaving the city quiet and shimmering. Jimmy, Denise, and Chuck were reviewing the shots—their voices a distant, excited hum—Noah and Luna stood beside each other, keeping a respectable distance as a new kind of silence settled between them.
Denise and Jimmy approached Luna.
“You should head home. We’ll handle the rest.” Denise gave her a small smile.
Jimmy nodded in agreement. “We’ve got a lot to go through anyway.”
Luna hesitated.
“It’s fine,” Denise added. “We’ll send everything over.”
Noah stepped closer. “I’ll drive you.”
Luna shook her head lightly. “I can walk. It’s not that far.”
“It’s almost three in the morning,” he said simply, his gaze shifting toward the dark road.
“I don’t mind.”
He studied her for a moment.
“I can walk with you if that’s what you prefer,” he offered.
Denise cut in smoothly with a smile, “Just go with him. I know you’re exhausted. It’s like a seven-minute drive. We’ll share locations.”
Jimmy waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Go. We’ll take care of this so you can rest. We know how tired you are.”
Luna finally nodded.
Noah led her to his car and opened the front door for her to enter. The inside of his car was comfy and warm. The raindrops were visible against the windows, blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and white.
“Seatbelt,” Noah reminded her.
“Oh, right. Sorry, but it’s only like a seven-minute drive,” she replied.
“Yeah, but safety first.”
“Why? Are you a bad driver?” She leaned in closer as she nudged him with a look that was half-mockery, half-challenge.
“I wouldn’t offer to drive you if I were,” he said, focusing entirely on the alignment of the rearview mirror.
“Hmph... Eyes on the road.” She let out a long sigh, her head thumping back against the headrest in a silent admission of defeat.
Noah glanced at her briefly before he shifted into gear, the engine humming as they finally left the scene behind.
“By the way—” she started, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Thank you... for driving me.”
Her head sank into the headrest, her eyes fluttering as the car’s warmth began to settle over her like a cozy blanket.
“You’re welcome.”
“Where do you live?” she asked, her eyelids drooping despite her best efforts.
“Why?” he said lightly. “Planning to visit?”
Her eyes opened slightly, just enough to glare at him.
“Just asking.”
He let the silence stretch before finally answering her.
It took a moment for the words to pierce through the fog of her sleepiness. But once they did, a faint, puzzled frown appeared on her face.
“That’s in the opposite direction.”
“It is.”
Another pause.
“Then why—”
“It’s not a problem,” he said.
Her gaze lingered on him, looking for the crack in his nonchalant armor.
“You went out of your way.”
He shouldered a small shrug, his gaze never flickering from the dark road ahead. “Isn’t that what a gentleman is supposed to do?” he said, his voice cool and clear against the hum of the engine. “I am your fake boyfriend, after all.”
She looked at him, the drowsy lag in her brain suddenly racing to catch up. She was almost awake, her gaze fixing on his profile as she processed the reminder of their arrangement.
“Fake boyfriends don’t do that.”
He raised a brow, “No?”
“That’s what real boyfriends do.”
“Oh,” he said. “So you want to make it official?”
She didn’t answer. She simply tilted her head back, her lids dropping with a heavy finality that signaled the conversation was over.
“Wake me up when we get there,” she murmured, turning her face toward the window and away from him as he drove.
A few minutes later, the car rolled to a stop in front of her building, the engine idling in the quiet street. Luna was fast asleep. Noah tried to wake her, tapping her shoulder and whispering her name, but she didn’t even move.
Noah rested his hand lightly against the steering wheel, watching her for a moment.
He checked the time: 3:11 AM. Five minutes passed. Then ten.
He watched the steady rise and fall of her shoulders, waiting for the exact moment her eyes would flutter open.
He didn’t wake her. Not yet. She’d told him to, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the silence while she was sleeping so peacefully. Watching the way her breathing had finally leveled out into something peaceful, he decided to wait.
Eventually, she stirred. Her brows knit slightly as she shifted, her eyes opening slowly.
“...we’re here?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.
Noah checked the time before greeting her with a quiet, “Good morning.” His voice held no edge, only a tired sort of kindness. It was almost 4:00 AM.
She looked at him, still half-asleep, as he stepped out of the car before she could say anything else, walking around to her side and opening the door for her.
As she stepped out, the sharp bite of the air made her sway on her feet. She was still half-lost in sleep, but Noah’s arms were already a silent safety net, positioned so perfectly that she would have fallen right into him if she’d taken one wrong step.
“Thank you,” she said, still unaware of how much time had slipped away while she was asleep.
Noah nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Good night,” she added before she walked toward her building.
He watched her walk away, only turning back once she was inside.
Once he got home, he loosened his tie as he stepped inside, the silence of his apartment settling around him.
He checked the time again. At this rate, he’d barely have enough time for a quick nap before his broadcast. He was tired—but he wasn’t bothered. Not even slightly. Just part of the job, he told himself.
But, if anything, he found himself thinking about the way she had helped him with his coat. The way she had looked at him under the glow of the streetlights, the sound of the rain blurring everything else into a steady hum that sealed the two of them in a world of their own.
The way she had said: That’s what real boyfriends do.
Noah exhaled softly, his eyes lingering on the empty space for a second too long before he shook his head. Attempting to clear the fog from his mind, he turned and headed toward his room to change.
It was fine. He was a gentleman, after all. And tonight, he had played the part perfectly.
