A/N: This is a long read, enjoy! ♡

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

It had been a week since the paparazzi scuffle. Seven days since Y/N lost it in front of the cameras—since that video went viral and the world twisted it into something ugly.

Seven days of PR damage control, closed-mouth smiles, and that heavy, aching silence sitting between us like a brick wall neither of us wanted to climb.

I hadn't said anything right away. PR had warned me not to. "Let it blow over," they said. "Don't engage. Don't make it bigger."

So I didn't. And neither did Y/N. But the silence hadn't made it better. It just... built. The world continued to paint the love of my life as an angry, short-tempered villain. And now, here we were. A regular Tuesday. Or it should've been.

I was sitting on the couch, legs curled under me, scrolling through my phone when I saw another headline flash across the screen:

"Y/N Calloway lashes out—again. Inside the fiery temper Netflix doesn't want you to see."

I clenched my jaw and tossed the phone onto the coffee table a little harder than necessary.

Y/N glanced up from the kitchen, towel slung over her shoulder, sleeves rolled to her elbows as she dried a glass. "Another one?"

I didn't answer right away. I picked up the remote and turned the volume down on the low hum of the TV instead.

"Madelyn?"

I turned to look at her, arms crossed. "They're still running with it. The whole 'aggressive girlfriend' narrative. Like you body-slammed someone."

Y/N huffed, looking away. "Of course they are."

"You haven't said anything about it," I said, standing. "Not even to me."

She dried her hands on the towel. "What's there to say? I defended you."

"I know you did," I said softly, walking closer. "But you haven't even really talked about it. Or... how it made you feel."

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," I pressed. "To me, it does."

Her shoulders stiffened. "Look, you've got a team who knows how to spin this. I'm the one who looks like the hothead. I'm not gonna make it worse by whining about it."

"I'm not asking you to whine, Y/N," I said, voice sharper now as I came to stand in front of her. "I'm asking you to talk to me."

She set the glass down. The clink echoed through the kitchen louder than necessary.

"Why? So I can tell you how fucked I feel every time they call me dangerous? How maybe Chase was right about me not being built for this shit?"

I blinked. "Chase? What?"

"Maybe I'm not cut out for this, okay?" she snapped. "Maybe this spotlight bullshit is too much. I'll bring you down. You worked too hard for this, Madz. I can't—"

"Y/N, be so for real. My ex? You're quoting my ex to me right now?"

She didn't respond. Just stared at me like she was already somewhere far away. My hands fell to my sides, jaw tightening. "Do you even hear yourself right now?"

"I'm trying to protect you," she said finally, voice quiet but tense.

"Protect me?" My voice cracked. "Trying to protect me or push me away? Because you're doing the latter—and really damn well."

Her eyes dropped to the floor.

"I've practically moved in with you at this point," I went on, my voice rising with every word. "I've been there for Storm. For you. For all of this. And you still act like you're doing it all alone—like you're some martyr carrying the weight of the world by yourself. I can't—Y/N, we can't have that. We can only get through this shit together."

"I didn't ask you to carry it."

"No, you didn't. You just shut down. Push me out. Like I'm some intruder in your life instead of the person you're supposed to be building it with!"

She rubbed a hand over her face. "Madz, that's not fair."

"Isn't it though?" I snapped. "Because it sure as hell feels accurate from where I'm standing. I've shown up for you again and again. I've stayed through every meltdown, every bad dream, every damn wall you throw up the second something hard happens. And now, because of a fucking tabloid circus, you're ready to believe you're not good enough for me?"

Y/N didn't flinch. She just stood there, her jaw tight, arms folded like she was bracing for impact. But I wasn't trying to hurt her. I was trying to get through to her.

"Do you think I haven't had doubts?" I went on, my voice cracking now, breath catching as all of it spilled out.
"Do you think it's easy for me either? I've had to watch the person I love get torn apart for loving me, and you think I don't carry guilt for that? Every time they post some article about your temper or twist your actions, it kills me. But I don't get to shut down. I don't get to disappear."

"I'm not disappearing," she said tightly.

"You're not here either!" I shouted. "You sit in silence, you spend more time at work or with Caleb, you barely look at me unless we're in front of other people—what do you call that, Y/N? Because to me, it feels like vanishing."

"I'm doing my best."

"No, you're doing damage control," I said, voice sharp. "And I'm not a PR crisis you need to manage."

She blinked. "That's not what I meant—"

"I don't care what you meant!" I cut in. "I care that you keep shutting me out like I haven't proven I'm staying. Like I haven't earned your trust after everything we've been through."

She rubbed her forehead, eyes closing like she was trying to will the conversation away. "You don't get it."

"Then explain it to me!" I snapped. "Help me understand why every time things get hard, your solution is to pull away. To isolate. To make me feel like the problem."

"I never said you were the problem."

"You didn't have to."

The silence that followed that hit different. Thick. Unforgiving.

"I've practically moved in with you," I whispered after a beat. "I changed my whole life to build one with you. I've tried to be there for Storm in every way I can. And you still look at me like I'm temporary. Like I could disappear at any moment."

Her eyes finally met mine, and for a second, I thought maybe she'd say something — anything — that would break through the fog hanging between us.

But she didn't. And that's when it broke me. My voice softened, but the hurt in it was sharper than ever. "The media wants to tear us apart, and at this point, I feel like you're going to let it happen."

"That's not true."

"Then what is it, Y/N? Do you still want to be with me? Do you even want this anymore?" I asked, eyes stinging. "Because if you don't—if you want to take a break, just fucking say that. I'd respect the honesty more than the silence."

Her mouth opened. Then shut again. I saw the war play out in her eyes, but she didn't say anything. And that hurt more than any headline ever could. Just as she finally drew in a breath, we both heard the front door open.

"Hello?" Caleb's voice called. Y/N stepped back from me, arms crossing tightly over her chest just as Storm came bouncing into the room, her braid swinging behind her. "Hi, Madelyn!"

My heart nearly stopped. I straightened instantly, wiping at my eyes with a quick motion.

"Hi, sweet girl," I said softly, forcing a smile. She looked between us, smile faltering. "Is everything okay?"

I swallowed thickly. "Can you give me just one minute, Storm?"

She hesitated. Her eyes flicked to Y/N, then back to me, clearly sensing something was off. Caleb hovered awkwardly in the doorway, having clearly picked up on the tension too.

"I'm gonna... check something in the bedroom," I said, my voice quiet as I turned and walked down the hallway. I didn't look back. I couldn't.

The moment the door clicked shut behind me, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My chest felt tight. My hands shook. I braced them against the dresser, leaning forward until my forehead touched the cool surface of the mirror.

I hated this. I hated feeling like I was crumbling while trying to keep things from falling apart.

From the living room, I could hear faint murmurs — Caleb's voice, low and careful, and Storm asking something I couldn't quite make out. I turned on the lamp, sat on the edge of the bed, and pressed my palms to my thighs.

I could still hear it — her silence, louder than any fight. The way she looked at me like she didn't know how to speak. Like she didn't trust me with the truth, even after everything.

A quiet knock on the door made me flinch.

"I'm fine," I said quickly. "Just—just give me a second."

No response. No pressure. Just quiet.

I closed my eyes.

. . .

𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Caleb set the pizza down on the counter and glanced toward the hallway where Madelyn had disappeared.

"I'm guessing that wasn't a 'how was your day' kind of vibe I walked into."

I rubbed a hand over my face and exhaled hard through my nose. "Nope."

Storm was still standing by the edge of the kitchen, not quite sitting, not quite sure what to do. She watched me the way she did when she wasn't sure if it was okay to ask questions.

"Hey," I said gently, crouching in front of her. "Can you go wash your hands before we eat? And maybe see if Lili texted? She said she might swing by."

Storm nodded slowly. "Is Mads okay?"

"She's just tired," I said, forcing something like reassurance into my voice. "We'll all feel better after food, okay?"

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded and walked off. As soon as she was out of earshot, Caleb gave me a look. "You gonna pretend that storm cloud in the room is just bad lighting, or...?"

I sighed and leaned back against the counter. "We had a fight. A big one."

He nodded slowly. "Want to talk about it?"

"I don't even know how to explain it," I muttered. "Everything's just been... off. Since the paparazzi thing. She's upset about how I've been since it happened."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Do you understand where she's coming from"

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then ran a hand through my hair.

"It's like every time I let myself believe things are good, something happens. And it all slips. So I lock it down before I lose control. Before I break something I can't fix."

Caleb gave me this look — not pity, not judgment, just... clarity. "You know you can't build a future by locking the doors to your house, right?"

I looked away.

"She loves you," he said simply. "Even Storm sees it. But love only works when both people stop running."

Before I could say anything, the door opened again and Lili's voice called out. "I come bearing snacks and games! Who's ready to lose at Uno?"

The tension shifted slightly — not gone, but smoothed over just enough to stand upright again. I nodded toward the living room. "Let's pretend we're functional for the night."

Caleb gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Fake it 'til you fix it."

𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The laughter from the living room felt like it was a mile away.

I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror, trying to wipe away the smudges of mascara without smearing more.

My eyes were still red — there wasn't enough concealer in the world to hide it completely. Not when it felt like everything I'd been holding together for weeks was hanging by a thread.

I dabbed under my eyes again and sat back. Took a breath. Exhaled shakily.

This wasn't how any of this was supposed to feel.

The bedroom door creaked open behind me. I didn't turn around.

"You okay?" Y/N asked softly.

I didn't answer. I heard the shuffle of her footsteps. She moved closer, but not all the way.

"Madz..."

I swallowed. "Lili's here. I heard her."

"Yeah," she murmured. "Storm's already sizing up the snack table like it's her personal buffet."

I gave the faintest ghost of a smile, but it faded almost instantly.

Then I felt her. Her hands on my arms, tentative at first, then firmer as she turned me toward her. I didn't want to go, but my body followed anyway. My heart was still sore, but when she pulled me into her chest — arms locking around my back — my muscles let go before my brain did.

I stood there, stiff in her embrace.

"I hate fighting with you," she whispered into my hair.

I didn't answer. She held me tighter. And still, I didn't melt the way I usually did. Not completely.

She pressed her cheek to mine, breath warm. "I'm sorry," she added, like that was supposed to fix the weight in my chest. Like saying sorry could undo the weeks of tension — the silence, the pullback, the shrinking every time I tried to get close.

"I'm just trying to fix it," she added. "I don't want this—us—to be like this."

I slowly pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

"Then stop giving me half of you," I said, voice soft but tight. "Stop letting me in only to shut me out the second you get scared. Do you even realize what that does to me?"

She opened her mouth like she had a response. But then she hesitated. And something about that hesitation — that pause, that uncertainty — made the ache sharpen again.

"I'm not trying to shut you out," she said finally.

"But you are," I said, eyes burning again. "You think I don't see it? Every time you flinch when I mention the future. Every time you bite your tongue instead of just being real with me about how you're feeling. It's like you'd rather protect your fear than protect what we have."

She ran a hand through her hair, stepping back, eyes dark. "You think this is easy for me?"

"No," I said. "But I think I deserve more than this version of you that only shows up halfway."

Her jaw clenched. "Madz—"

She ran a hand through her hair, stepping back, eyes dark. "You think this is easy for me?"

"No," I said, voice tightening. "But I think I deserve more than this version of you that only shows up halfway."

Y/N shook her head, biting her lip like she was trying to hold something in. "I never meant to show up halfway. I didn't even realize I was doing it until you started looking at me like—like I'm disappointing you just by being in the room."

My breath caught. "That's not what I think."

"Isn't it?" she said, voice rising just a bit. "Every time I say I need a second to figure something out, you get this look—like I'm failing you. Like I should have it all figured out by now."

"Because I need you to figure it out with me, Y/N!" I shot back, stepping closer. "Not in your head. Not in isolation. With me. That's what this is! That's what we are!"

"I'm not good at that!" she blurted. "Okay? I've never been good at letting people in when shit gets messy!"

"You don't think I know that? You don't think I see that? But I've been trying to love you through it, to be here through it, and you make it so fucking hard when you act like I'm not allowed to feel hurt by any of it."

She looked down, jaw clenched. "I'm not trying to hurt you."

"I know," I said, voice trembling. "But you still are."

Y/N's hands went to her hips, her eyes flickering. "You have no idea what it's like, Madz. To feel like the whole world is looking at you like you're already the villain before you even open your mouth. To see people twist everything into proof that you're not worthy of the person you love."

"And what about me?" I asked, tears welling up again. "Do you think it's easy for me to watch you spiral and not know how to reach you? To be standing right in front of you and feel like you're a million miles away?"

Her head dropped. She didn't answer.

"I need you to trust me enough to show me the messy parts," I said, softer now. "Even when it's uncomfortable. Even when it's ugly. Because that's what this is. Real love isn't just about kissing each other on red carpets and playing house when things are good. It's showing up. Even when it's hard."

Her mouth opened. Then shut again. The silence pressed between us again, more suffocating than before.

She finally looked at me.

"Do you just not get it," I snapped, voice cracking, "or do you just not care—"

A soft knock interrupted me. "Are you guys coming?" Storm's voice called from the other side of the door, her tone light but curious.

I froze. Closed my eyes for a second. Let the words I wanted to say dissolve on my tongue.

Y/N's hand brushed mine as I turned, fingers curling around my wrist like she didn't want the space between us to widen again.

"Madz, wait."

I looked at her — really looked at her. She looked tired. Sad. Scared, maybe. But she still wasn't saying what I needed to hear.

"If you can't be honest with me," I said, quietly but with finality, "please don't waste my time right now."

Then I opened the door. Storm was standing there with two UNO decks in her hand and a hopeful grin that dimmed slightly when she saw my face.

I forced a smile. It wasn't all fake — there was still love there. For Storm, for Y/N. But the hurt was still too close to the surface.

"Let's go pick teams," I said, slipping my arm around Storm's shoulders like I hadn't just been unraveling five seconds ago. She grinned and leaned into me.

I didn't look back as we walked down the hall. But I could feel her eyes on me. Still not saying what I needed her to. Still not ready. And for the first time... I didn't know how long I could wait.

. . .

We sat around the coffee table, the living room dim except for the soft glow of fairy lights and the flicker of a paused movie screen. Caleb was halfway through explaining the rules of a card game Lili brought—something competitive and slightly chaotic—and Storm was giggling beside him, already shuffling her deck like a pro.

From the outside, we probably looked like a happy little bubble. Y/N was leaning into the corner of the couch beside me, one arm stretched lazily across the back, occasionally brushing her fingers against my shoulder or hip.

Every now and then, she'd lean in to whisper something, her lips ghosting over my temple or my ear in a way that used to make me melt.

But now? It just made me ache. Because I knew exactly what she was doing.

Trying to smooth it over with soft smiles and casual affection. Trying to pretend that the fight earlier didn't rip a tear right through the center of us.

I let her do it—because we weren't alone. Because Storm was practically glowing from the fun of it all. Because Caleb and Lili had been looking forward to tonight and I didn't want to ruin it. But inside, everything still felt fractured.

There was a moment where Y/N kissed my cheek when I won a round, fingers squeezing my thigh under the table. I smiled because I had to. I even leaned into her for a second. But I didn't reach for her hand. I didn't kiss her back.

Not like I usually do. The silence between us screamed louder than anything else.

Later, after Lili had threatened to make us all do TikTok dances if we didn't let her pick the next movie and Caleb had declared himself game-night champion with a bow, they finally started gathering their things.

Storm hugged both of them goodnight, yawning into Lili's shoulder before disappearing into the hallway to brush her teeth.

I was in the kitchen rinsing out mugs when I felt Y/N behind me. She didn't say anything—just rested a hand on my lower back and kissed my neck gently. I closed my eyes, my stomach twisting.

Why did her touch still feel like home when everything between us felt so...