Mordred glanced at Nevaeh as they walked down the hall, his hands tucked into his pockets. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.
"If they made you uncomfortable, I'm really sorry," she said, looking straight ahead. "I should have just taken the autographs myself and given them to them."
He studied her for a moment before letting out a short chuckle. "It's fine. I've dealt with worse."
Nevaeh sighed. "Still, they can be a handful when they get excited. I'll talk to them about it."
Mordred smirked. "What, tell them not to ask celebrities weird personal questions?"
"Something like that," she muttered.
They stepped outside, the cool breeze brushing against them. Mordred took a deep breath, relieved to be away from the overwhelming buzz of people inside. Nevaeh glanced at him, noticing the way his shoulders relaxed slightly.
"You really don't like all that attention, do you?" she asked.
Mordred exhaled. "It's not that I hate it… it's just exhausting. Everyone wants something—an autograph, a picture, a date. It's never just… normal."
Nevaeh hummed in understanding. "I get that."
"Do you?" He turned to her, a brow slightly raised.
She met his gaze with a small smile. "I mean, I don't experience it the way you do, but I know what it's like to be expected to act a certain way all the time. To have people assume things about you."
Mordred tilted his head slightly. "You do seem different from most journalists I've met."
"Is that a compliment?" she teased.
He smirked. "Maybe."
For a moment, there was only the sound of their footsteps as they walked through the quiet parking lot. The city lights glowed in the distance, casting a soft ambiance around them.
Nevaeh hesitated before speaking again. "So… why did you ask me to come with you?"
Mordred was silent for a moment before he shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to be around someone who doesn't look at me like I'm some… prize to win."
Nevaeh's steps slowed, her heart skipping a beat at his words.
He glanced at her again, his expression unreadable. "Is that weird?"
She shook her head, offering him a small smile. "No. Not weird at all."
Mordred nodded, then looked ahead. "Good."
They continued walking, a strange but comfortable silence settling between them.
And for the first time in a long while, Mordred felt… at ease.
As Nevaeh stood there with Mordred, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Morgan's name flashing on the screen.
"Give me a second," she said, stepping slightly away as she answered. "Hey, Morgan."
"Nevaeh, you won't believe the day I've had," Morgan sighed dramatically on the other end. "Everything went wrong. The recording session was a mess, my manager kept breathing down my neck, and don't even get me started on the traffic."
Nevaeh chuckled softly. "That bad, huh?"
"Terrible. I just needed to hear a sane voice before I lose my mind."
Mordred, who had been standing nearby, caught that last sentence. He raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. When Nevaeh glanced back at him, he smirked.
"Wow," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "So you have people who just call you because they had a bad day?"
Nevaeh shot him a look but kept her focus on Morgan. "You'll be fine, Morgan. Just take a break, alright?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll try. Thanks for listening, Nevaeh. Talk later?"
"Of course," she said before hanging up.
She turned to Mordred, who was still watching her with that amused yet unreadable expression.
"You find that strange?" she asked.
Mordred leaned against a nearby wall, tilting his head slightly. "I find it… interesting."
"What, that my friend called me?"
"That people actually reach out to you just to talk," he clarified. His voice was casual, but there was something else beneath it—something almost wistful.
Nevaeh narrowed her eyes slightly. "No one calls you like that?"
Mordred let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Nope. If my phone rings, it's about business. A deal, a contract, an endorsement. Never just… someone checking in."
For some reason, that made Nevaeh's chest tighten a little.
"That's…" She hesitated, searching for the right word.
"Pathetic?" he offered with a smile.
"I was going to say lonely."
Mordred's smile faltered for just a second, but he quickly masked it.
"Well, that's just the way it is," he said with a shrug. "I don't have the luxury of… casual relationships."
Nevaeh studied him for a moment. She had interviewed a lot of celebrities, but Mordred was different. He wasn't just playing a role—there was something real beneath his carefully built walls.
She sighed. "If you ever need to just talk, you know… like a normal person, you can call me."
Mordred blinked, genuinely caught off guard.
"You'd pick up?" he asked, almost skeptically.
"As long as you're not calling about contract dates or business deals," she teased.
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Noted."
For a moment, they just stood there, the sounds of the city around them. Nevaeh wasn't sure why she had said that, but something about Mordred made her want to reach out—just a little.
And for the first time, he didn't seem unreachable.