As soon as Nevaeh got home, she barely had time to kick off her shoes before her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. Mordred?
She hesitated for a second before answering. "Hello?"
"You said I could call," Mordred's voice came through, smoother than usual. "I figured I'd take you up on that offer before you changed your mind."
Nevaeh scoffed lightly, flopping onto her bed. "I didn't expect it to be this soon."
"Well, you sounded serious earlier," he said. "And it's not like I have anyone else to talk to about this stuff."
She frowned slightly. "What stuff?"
"Jade." His tone shifted, laced with something between frustration and exhaustion. "She showed up at my house last night after the party. Thought she could push her luck with me. When I told her no, she acted like I wasn't even human."
Nevaeh bit her lip. "What do you mean?"
"She asked if I even had feelings at all. Like just because I don't fall for her games, I must be some emotionless machine."
Nevaeh sighed. "That's ridiculous."
"Right?" He let out a bitter chuckle. "But maybe she's not entirely wrong."
Nevaeh frowned. "Mordred—"
"I mean, think about it," he continued. "I don't do normal relationships. I don't even know what they're supposed to feel like. All I see in women is… desire. They either want my fame or my body. Nothing real."
Nevaeh fell silent, gripping her phone tighter. She didn't know how to respond to that.
"But you…" Mordred's voice dropped slightly. "You don't look at me that way."
Nevaeh's heart skipped. She sat up. "Mordred—"
"That's why I called," he cut in. "Because when I talk to you, it doesn't feel like a performance. It feels… different."
Nevaeh felt warmth creep up her neck. She wasn't sure if it was from flattery or panic. "Mordred, I—"
A knock on her door interrupted her.
"Nevaeh!" Donna's voice came through, followed by Teresa and Lilly's giggles.
She groaned. "Hold on, my friends are here."
"They're still mad at me, aren't they?" Mordred asked dryly.
Nevaeh sighed, getting up to open the door. "Yeah, apparently declining their request for a picture in person was a crime."
The moment she opened the door, Donna burst in dramatically. "Nevaeh! Do you know how humiliating that was? We went all the way there, and he just turned us down!"
Teresa pouted. "He didn't even smile!"
Lilly crossed her arms. "I told you he was cold in real life."
Nevaeh sighed, rubbing her temple. "Look, he's not—"
"Wait." Donna narrowed her eyes. "Who are you talking to?"
Nevaeh froze. Mordred was still on the line.
Before she could react, Mordred's deep voice came through the speaker. "You're on speaker, aren't you?"
Nevaeh winced. Oh no.
Her friends' eyes widened.
"Wait… is that—"
Mordred sighed. "Hi, Nevaeh's friends."
They all screamed.
Nevaeh groaned. This… was going to be a long night.
Nevaeh closed her eyes, exhaling sharply. Great. Just great.
Donna clutched her chest like she'd just been shot. "Gosh, did we just criticize him… for him to hear?" she asked dramatically, her eyes darting between Nevaeh and the phone.
"Apparently," Mordred responded dryly. "I heard everything."
Teresa gasped. "Oh my God. Kill me now."
Lilly buried her face in her hands. "We are never showing our faces in public again."
Nevaeh sighed, rubbing her temple. "Okay, everyone just calm down."
Donna grabbed the phone from her. "Mordred, listen. We didn't mean it like that. We're just—uh—passionate fans, you know? We love your work, but meeting you was, uh…"
"Humiliating?" Mordred offered.
Donna winced. "Ouch. I mean, yeah, a little."
Mordred let out a low chuckle. "Well, at least you're honest."
Teresa peeked over Donna's shoulder. "So… you're not mad?"
"Nah," Mordred said, sounding amused. "I get it. I can come off as distant. But it's not personal."
Lilly sighed in relief. "Okay, but next time, maybe try smiling? Just a little? You know, for the fans?"
Mordred snorted. "I'll consider it."
Nevaeh finally took the phone back. "Okay, enough embarrassing yourselves, please."
Donna clapped her hands together. "So does this mean we get a picture next time?"
Mordred laughed. "Let's not push our luck, yeah?"
Nevaeh shook her head as her friends groaned in disappointment. She glanced at her phone, and despite herself, a small smile crept onto her lips.
Mordred had called her to talk about things he couldn't say to anyone else. And for the first time… she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she was starting to understand the man behind the fame.
Mordred kept talking, his voice quieter now, more relaxed. He spoke about the weight of his career, the pressure of contract relationships, and the loneliness that never seemed to fade. Nevaeh listened, occasionally murmuring small responses, but mostly just letting him talk.
For the first time in a long time, he wasn't performing. He was just himself.
Nevaeh, curled up in bed, found herself growing sleepier with each passing minute. She didn't know when her responses became murmurs, then silence.
Mordred, lying on his couch, felt the same heaviness settle over him. His voice slowed, his thoughts drifted, and before he knew it—
Sleep took them both.
In two different homes, in two different worlds, they found the same kind of peace that night.