Nevaeh barely made it two steps into the café before chaos erupted.
"You did what?!" Donna practically yelled, nearly knocking over her iced coffee in shock.
Lilly gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like she had been personally betrayed. "Tell me you're joking."
Teresa, always the quietest of the group, just stared at Nevaeh, her spoon frozen midair above her bowl of yogurt.
Nevaeh sighed, setting her bag down on the chair. "I asked to be removed from Mordred's coverage."
Donna slammed her hands on the table. "Did you just give your opportunity to Ellie Martinez over some shady scandal?"
Nevaeh rolled her eyes, sitting down. "It wasn't just about that. I don't want to deal with crazed fans twisting everything I say. I'm a journalist, not some fantasy character in their Mordred fanfiction."
Lilly groaned, flopping dramatically onto the table. "Nevaeh, you were our golden ticket! Our VIP pass! Our chance to finally see him in person!"
Teresa finally spoke, her voice flat. "You ruined us."
Nevaeh let out a short laugh. "Oh, come on. It's not like I was going to invite you all to meet him anyway."
Donna narrowed her eyes. "Were you?"
"No!"
Lilly pointed at her accusingly. "See? That was your first mistake!"
Nevaeh shook her head. "Look, I made a professional decision. Ellie can have him. She wants to be in the spotlight, and I don't. Simple."
Donna crossed her arms. "Yeah? Well, let's see how 'simple' it is when Ellie's all over the news with Mordred, and you're sitting behind your desk writing about boring local events."
Teresa nodded. "She has a point."
Nevaeh waved them off. "I'll survive."
But even as she said it, she could already imagine the headlines.
"Ellie Martinez lands exclusive coverage with Mordred!"
"The Stunning Journalist Who Stole the Spotlight"
Nevaeh took a slow sip of her coffee.
No regrets.
Right?
---
Mordred sat in the private lounge of his agency, flipping through his phone while his manager, Oliver, discussed his upcoming schedule.
It was the usual.
Rehearsals. Interviews. Photoshoots.
Nothing new. Nothing interesting.
That was, until Oliver cleared his throat and said, "Your next interview will be with Ellie Martinez."
Mordred's fingers stilled against the screen.
He lifted his gaze. "Who?"
Oliver leaned back, amused. "Ellie Martinez. She's taking over your media coverage."
Mordred blinked once, slow.
Not Nevaeh?
He didn't know why that thought annoyed him, but it did.
He schooled his expression, tossing his phone aside. "Alright."
"She's… different from Nevaeh," Oliver continued.
Mordred smirked. "That supposed to mean something?"
Oliver chuckled. "You'll see."
---
The Interview
Ellie Martinez knew how to make an entrance.
When she walked into the studio, the entire room seemed to adjust around her.
She was stunning—flawless skin, piercing eyes, a confidence that was almost intimidating. She carried herself like she belonged in front of the camera.
Mordred had seen hundreds of women like her in the industry. Polished. Perfect. Professional.
She sat across from him, crossing her legs with a poised smile. "Mordred. It's nice to finally meet you."
Her voice was smooth, calculated.
Mordred leaned back, watching her. "Likewise."
The cameras rolled, and Ellie slipped effortlessly into her role.
She asked all the right questions—his upcoming projects, his inspirations, his experiences as an artist.
But Mordred wasn't interested.
Because, unlike Nevaeh, she never asked anything real.
No unexpected questions. No moments that caught him off guard.
Just the same, polished interview he could do in his sleep.
As they wrapped up, Ellie smiled at him, leaning forward slightly. "I have to say, your presence is even more striking in person."
Mordred gave her a practiced smirk. "Glad to hear it."
She tilted her head. "I hope we'll be working together a lot from now on."
He didn't answer.
Because, for some reason…
He realized he would've much rather been sitting across from Nevaeh.
---