The proofs from the photoshoot were in my email inbox, but I was too scared to open them and see what they looked like.

Part of me was terrified that they'd show everything I was trying to hide with Matthew--our longing looks, too-intense stares, and passion heated chemistry zapping between the two of us was almost too much to bear in person, let alone having the proof of that connection splashed across the magazines, but it was already too far gone for me to stop anything.

It was happening.

The article was coming out at noon, and I couldn't decide if I was relieved or terrified--most likely a combination of both.

Matthew had continuously called and texted since the photoshoot since we weren't able to see each other in person, and every message grew just the smallest bit dirtier.

I was in the middle of blushing my ass off because of said dirty text when Dorian knocked his elbow into mine during class--a sure sign that I had not been paying any attention to the lesson whatsoever.

Considering it was an early morning class, I didn't have to worry about the news article dropping and be around for the fallout with Ben, his football buddies, and my two guy best friends around to witness the damage that it would cause.

"You're being called on by the professor," Dorian whispered into my ear after leaning in close, and when my eyes skipped forward to the lanky male in his late forties looking at me with an expectant look on his features, I wanted to immediately disappear because of the embarrassment of the next question I'd have to ask.

"I'm sorry, what was the question?"

"We were talking about the scientific method, the stage of the hypothesis more accurately. Do you think the hypothesis is more of a proposed explanation of an event or finding, or rather an observation?"

You know that feeling when you just know in your gut that everyone is looking at you, thinking about you, or talking about you behind your back?

As every single phone went off in the large auditorium lecture hall at almost the exact same time, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"The, um, the hypothesis is an observation," I stated, stuttering because of the heads all whipping toward me, far too interested in the answer to a question from the professor.

Then, the whispers started, the pointing, the slacked, open mouth stares, and then Dorian checked his own phone beside me, Lan doing the same, and the pure unabated pain and betrayal shining back at me through Dorian's eyes was enough to cut me to shreds right in front of him.

"Eyes on me, folks. That's right, a hypothesis is an observation! We save the explanation for the end, which...oh, oh wow."

The professor had stopped mid speech as he glanced to his opened iPad on the podium close beside him.

I knew, instinctually, that the article had dropped early, and that it was something...unsavory, to say the least. The story had to be something explosive if it had everyone staring at me with a mixture of shock, awe, jealousy, and even disgust.

"You seriously threw that glass of water on me and made me feel like shit for breaking up with you when you had this guy all along?"

Ben's words didn't even register as Dorian stood up, stony faced and painted with an anger I couldn't erase, and gathered his things to leave.

"Dory," I started but he cut me off with a look that could've withered flowers.

"Don't. Just don't, Elodie."

I flinched, like my actual name instead of something ridiculous like 'Elevator' or 'Elephant' had struck me across the face like his actual hand instead of his words.

I should have spoken to Dorian about what I'd inferred from his actions in our friendship thus far--that he had feelings for me. Lan had confirmed it for me, but it felt too forward and almost rude to come up to him and say there was no chance we could ever be anything romantic, especially if he'd never come outright and spoken his feelings for me aloud.

If I had, I'd have been no better than Ben trying to 'spare' my feelings by creating situations that would force me to break up with him first instead of him just being honest with me.

I didn't open my phone to see the article, not even when Phoebe texted me an angry string of memes and emojis that ranged from psychotic rage to unamused curiosity, one even asking me how big Matthew's eggplant emoji was, and that was when I decided to lock my phone and stare straight ahead, ignoring the chaos unfolding around me.

Sure, my eyes stung with unshed tears for one of my best friends who'd felt betrayed by me, the entire school knew that Matthew and I were together, and my brother would soon, as well as everything was devolving into shit, but at least I could try and get a good grade on the intro to psych pop quiz that our professor was currently handing out.

Ben, sat directly in the seat in front of me, leaned back to hand me my paper and didn't hesitate to throw another barb my way.

"Why don't you come sit by us, Lan? Wouldn't want cheaters to steal your answers."

Was he trying to insinuate that I had cheated on him with Matthew? Could he seriously be that dense?

What were we, in fifth grade?

"Bro, just shut the fuck up," Lan said defensively, being the only one not surprised by the news.

My phone rang and rang and rang, the vibration ceaseless in the pocket of the hoodie I'd carelessly thrown on that morning.

"I wasn't the one tapping minor ass," Ben muttered under his breath as he turned back to the table in front of him while my pop quiz stared at me like a mocking tableau of the portrait my life had been painted from.

'Minor ass'? My heart seized in my chest at his words.

Had the article portrayed my 'relationship' with Matthew in a completely different way than I'd assumed?

Matthew hadn't so much as given me a second glance before that night in the club weeks ago, long after my eighteenth birthday, and I was about to turn nineteen in less than a month.

There was a six-year age difference between the two of us, but it wasn't like there was some power dynamic between us that made what we were doing seem wrong. In many ways, the life experience I'd lived through and survived through had given me a much different outlook on life and relationships than if I hadn't suffered early on in life.

Did the rest of the world know these things, however? No, of course not. They'd make their own opinions and draw their own conclusions, but as my pencil hovered over my quiz, mindlessly choosing answers I thought I knew the right answers to, as if the quiz would hold the answers to what to do with the mess my life had become.

I'd barely finished circling the last answer before I collected my things and strode to the front of the class to drop the paper off with the professor.

His eyes wide, he barely had time to utter, "But class isn't over yet," before my hands were shoving open the door and my fingers were fumbling for my phone in my pocket.

I ignored all the texts and missed calls, silencing another one incoming from Eli as I googled my name, searching for the People article, but it wasn't there. It hadn't dropped early like I'd thought.

Instead, an article from Scoop had dropped and had, indeed, scooped the story right out from under People's noses.

I nearly collapsed on the ground at the sight before me.

There, splashed on a dirty rag magazine that makes Perez Hilton look tame, was a grainy and blurred picture of a kiss between two people who looked an awful lot like me and Matthew.

Eli was going to lose his mind. 

It was from the night Matthew had dropped me off at my dorm...or the night he'd driven me from the dirt bike track back to Eli's apartment and we'd stopped at that urgent care in the parking lot.  

There were plenty of opportunities for someone to snap a picture of the two of us in a compromising position, considering we hadn't exactly been discreet. 

I checked the litany of texts then, reading the latest one from my older brother first. 

Eli:  My place, tonight at 7 be there with Matthew.

And then Matthew's contact flashed on my screen. 

"Hey," I said upon answering, and the silence on the other end was not reassuring. 

"Hey.  Look, I have no idea how they got that picture of us, and I will totally take responsibility for this with Eli, I'll say that it was just a one-time thing and that you immediately pulled away as soon as it happened.  Then, we can do damage control with him so your relationship isn't ruined by me.  I am so sorry this happened, baby, I know you wanted to keep this low profile and-"

"Matthew, stop.  It's okay, I'm okay.  And we're not going to lie to Eli...I mean, unless you want to?"

I couldn't bear to ask if he wanted to end all of this right now, over the phone.  My poor heart wouldn't have been able to take it if he said yes. 

"No, no I don't want to lie to him either.  I just...have no idea what we're going to tell him."

"The truth.  We'll tell him the truth."

If only the truth was enough. 

One final notification popped through on my phone after ending the call with Matthew, and I could've thrown up in horror as I read through the entire People article. 

Phoebe found me in the corridor of the lecture hall building and rushed over to me, deep red hair swinging as she finally caught me. 

"Girl.  You are in so much shit."

She didn't know the half of it.

The reporter had caught me kissing Matthew at the photoshoot, too.

***

A/N:

Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

So I'm assuming you're all wondering where this story has been, and honestly...

life happens.

I promise I will try my damndest to keep on a good updating schedule to finish this book out strong!

What did you think of this chapter?

Did you like the articles?

Would you like more media art like that in the future?

What do you think will happen at the meeting with Eli?

What do you want to happen next?

Until next time my lovely readers, 

Kristen :)