Ethan scrolled through his phone, his brows furrowing slightly as he skimd the latest comnts under Anna’s post. The atmosphere in her feed had shifted drastically ever since the user @DarkKnight_07 publicly clarified that he wasn’t her lover.
The chaos that had once filled her comnt section had cald, replaced by curiosity and admiration.
Ethan wasn’t soone who cared much for social dia—or so he liked to believe. But ever since he’d learned that Anna had signed with Starlight Agency, he’d found himself checking her updates more often than he cared to admit.
For an artist starting her career, a strong online presence was essential. When Anna finally introduced herself as a Starlight artist, he’d intended to send her a simple follow request—sothing friendly, professional. But then he saw the flood of comnts, the endless chatter, the rumors.
That’s when he stopped.
He didn’t even realize he was scowling at the screen until a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You seem quite busy ignoring your one and only mother, Ethan," a woman’s voice teased lightly.
Ethan blinked, lowering his phone. His mother, Stephane, sat across from him with a mixture of amusent and exasperation.
She had flown in from Country C after three months—three months of failed attempts to get her son to visit. Yet now, sitting directly in front of her, he seed more interested in his phone than in her presence.
"I was just checking sothing," he muttered, sliding the phone into his pocket.
Stephane arched a brow, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Checking sothing—or soone?"
Ethan’s shoulders stiffened.
"Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone?" she asked with mock suspicion. "Because I have a strong feeling it’s the other way around."
"There’s nothing like that," he said quickly, his tone firm enough to end the discussion—or so he hoped.
Stephane sighed, feigning disappointnt. "Poor . I was really hoping for so good news. Honestly, Ethan, you should go on a date once in a while. There are plenty of won who’d love to get to know you. Why hesitate?"
He rubbed his temple, suppressing a groan. "Mom..."
Stephane’s expression softened. She wasn’t teasing anymore—just worried.
After the divorce, Ethan had spent most of his ti with his father, while Stephane built a new life overseas. She eventually remarried and had another son, while Ethan’s father stayed single, more interested in business than companionship.
Ethan, too, had chosen a solitary path. His father’s world revolved around deals and rgers, but Ethan wanted sothing different—sothing his father never understood. When he declared he wanted to act, not join the family business, it led to a cold silence and, eventually, his moving out.
Since then, his father occasionally called, mostly to set up blind dates he never accepted. Love, to Ethan, was a fleeting illusion—sothing that began beautifully and ended in disappointnt.
"Mom," he said at last, looking up with quiet resolve. "You know I’m focused on my career right now. Love isn’t sothing I want—or need—as a distraction."
Stephane sighed again, her gaze softening with that familiar mix of love and sadness. She’d heard those words before, every single ti.
Ethan had been only twelve when his parents split. The mory of their love unraveling, of watching two people grow strangers under the sa roof, had imprinted deeply on him. Since then, he’d stopped believing in forever.
Love fades, he’d decided long ago. So why bother chasing it?
Before Stephane could respond, another voice broke through the hum of the café.
"Ethan!"
Both heads turned.
Standing near their table, radiating practiced poise, was Fiona Stewart. Her smile was wide, deliberate, and cara-perfect.
Stephane’s eyes widened with recognition, her face lighting up. "Oh! Aren’t you Fiona Stewart—from Livid?"
Fiona’s smile softened modestly. "Yes, that’s ."
Stephane’s excitent grew. She wasn’t much of a movie enthusiast, but she had followed the entertainnt world closely—mostly because of her son. Fiona was well-known, talented, and charming.
"Oh, please, have a seat!" Stephane gestured warmly to the empty chair beside them before Ethan could react.
Ethan shot his mother a sharp glare. "Mom—"
She ignored him completely, already engaged in conversation.
"It’s such a pleasure to et you," Stephane said, her tone bright with approval. "I’ve heard wonderful things about you."
Fiona gave a polite laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she sat down gracefully. "That’s kind of you to say." Her gaze flickered briefly to Ethan, who leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable.
He didn’t return her smile. In fact, his entire posture scread disinterest.
Stephane, on the other hand, seed thrilled. The way Fiona carried herself—elegant, confident, successful—made her seem like the perfect match for her stubborn son.
Beautiful, grounded, and from the sa industry, Stephane thought, her mind already working faster than she should admit. Maybe this is fate lending a hand.
anwhile, Ethan remained silent, his jaw tight, wondering how the universe could possibly have this cruel a sense of humor.
This was supposed to be a quiet lunch with his mother—one of the rare monts Ethan actually agreed to spend ti with her.
But sohow, it had turned into this.
Fiona Stewart sitting across from him, smiling like she belonged there, while his mother looked positively delighted.
Why is she everywhere? Ethan thought bitterly, his jaw tightening as he watched the two won chatting like old friends.
He took a slow sip of his coffee, hoping they’d tire of the conversation soon. No such luck.
"So, Fiona," Stephane began casually, tilting her head with a mischievous glint in her eye, "do you have soone special in your life?"
Ethan nearly choked on his drink. His eyes snapped up to his mother, disbelief etched across his face.
Fiona blinked, montarily caught off guard before she composed herself with a demure smile. "No, I don’t."
"Great!" Stephane exclaid cheerfully, clapping her hands together. "Then why don’t you date my son?"
Ethan: "..."
Fiona: "..."
Silence.
If a pin had dropped, it would’ve echoed through the entire café.
Ethan’s expression darkened instantly, his gaze shooting daggers at his mother. His jaw flexed, his lips parting in restrained disbelief.
You did it again, Mom.
His glare scread the words she already knew—he hadn’t forgotten the last ti she tried setting him up behind his back.
Stephane only laughed awkwardly, waving a hand. "Oh, relax! I was joking."
Fiona’s smile faltered, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks as she tried to laugh it off. "Haha, of course... I an, how could we date when we’re working together, right?"
"Wait," Stephane blinked, curiosity piqued. "You’re working together? I thought your co-star was so debutant?"
At that, Fiona’s lips twitched, the smile on her face freezing ever so slightly.
"You’re right," she said smoothly, though her tone had a hint of edge. "There’s a debutant in the film too. Her na is Anna."
The na rolled off her tongue deliberately, like a pebble dropped into still water.
Stephane’s brows lifted. "Anna..." she repeated softly, as if testing the sound.
Fiona caught the subtle shift in her tone but said nothing. Instead, Ethan—who had been stoically quiet the entire ti—finally spoke.
"Mom," he said flatly, already rising from his seat, "if we’re done here, can we go? I have a photoshoot."
Stephane sighed, giving her son a pointed look but nodding nonetheless. "Of course. I didn’t realize it was that late."
She turned back to Fiona with a pleasant smile. "It was lovely eting you, dear. I hope you and Ethan get along well on set."
"Of course," Fiona replied sweetly, her lips curling in polite warmth.
Ethan didn’t bother replying—he simply nodded, his expression unreadable as he gestured for his mother to leave.
They walked toward the exit, and Fiona’s eyes followed them, her gaze narrowing as her practiced smile slowly lted into sothing colder.
For a mont, she hesitated, her hand brushing against the edge of the table. Then, as if compelled by so unseen force, she rose and took a few slow steps toward the door—her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor.
Stephane turned slightly at the sound, eting Fiona’s gaze once more.
"Of course," Fiona said again, this ti with a voice soft enough to sound innocent—yet her words carried a quiet venom beneath them. Her eyes flicked briefly toward Ethan’s retreating figure before eting Stephane’s again.
"I’ll make sure I get along very well with your son, Aunty."
A faint, knowing smile tugged at her lips, and just for a heartbeat, sothing dark flickered in her eyes.
Stephane chuckled, unaware of the undercurrent. "I’m counting on it."
But as Fiona watched them disappear through the café door, her expression shifted—sweetness fading, replaced by sothing far more calculating.
***
[Outside]
"You shouldn’t have reacted that way. She will think of you as soone rude" Stephane said as they reached his parked car.
"And was it right what you did inside. How will you justidy it" Ethan respond with a straight face.
Out of all the people his mother would end up blurting such nonsense before Fiona.
Stephane looked at her son keenly accepting her mistake, but soon her lips curled into a mischivous grin.
"If not Fiona, how about Anna. I am sure she is as beautiful as her" she blurt out once again and this ti he rolled his eyes on her.
Ethan didn’t bother to response and simple got into his car, while Stephane followed him grinning widely.
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