A Star Only I Want to Hold

Ember picked up the call, her voice laced with curiosity. "What happened? Are you free now?"

Dylan's voice came through, filled with worry. "You're scaring me. You didn't tell me where you were going."

Her expression softened. "Sorry, but you were busy, so I just stepped out for a drink."

"Where are you now?" Dylan's tone was still tense.

"I'm at a café nearby—" she started, but before she could finish, Dylan cut her off.

"I'm coming."

The line went dead before Ember could say another word. She stared at her phone, exhaling softly. She hadn't meant to worry him.

Just then, Adrien returned with their drinks, setting them on the table. The café door swung open again, and Ember's gaze lifted—Dylan had arrived.

She waved at him, trying to ease the tension that had already settled in the air. But as Dylan approached, his eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of her sitting with Adrien.

"What are you doing here?" Dylan's voice was clipped, his gaze locked onto the man across from her.

Sensing the tension rising, Ember quickly spoke before things could turn awkward. "Adrien, this is Dylan, my boyfriend. Dylan, this is Adrien, a new friend of mine."

The two men exchanged brief, polite greetings, but Ember could feel the unspoken friction between them. She knew they didn't get along, but she hoped—just maybe—that for her sake, they could be civil. Maybe, if given the chance, they could even clear up the misunderstandings of the past.

 Both of them sat at the table—Adrien on one side, Dylan on the other. The air between them felt charged, unspoken tension lingering in the silence.

Dylan leaned in closer to Ember, his voice low but firm. "Can we go back now?"

She shook her head gently, offering him a calm smile. "He offered me a drink. It would be rude to just leave now, don't you think?"

Dylan exhaled, clearly not happy about it, but he gave in. "Okay, finish it, then."

Ember smiled softly and took a sip of her drink. Just as she did, her phone buzzed again. She glanced at the screen—Emir. An idea formed in her mind. This was the perfect opportunity to leave Dylan and Adrien alone. Maybe, just maybe, they'd finally talk.

She stood up, resting a reassuring hand on Dylan's shoulder. "I have to take this call. I'll be right back."

Dylan immediately moved to stand. "I'll come with you," he insisted.

Ember gently pressed him back into his seat, her touch light but firm. "That's rude. Stay here and finish your drink. It's on my behalf so Adrien doesn't feel bad." Her voice was sweet, but there was meaning behind her words. She hoped he'd take the hint.

Dylan frowned, his reluctance clear. "I'm not letting you go."

She met his gaze with quiet determination. "Yes, you are." Then, with a subtle glance toward Adrien, she silently urged him to step in.

Adrien caught on quickly. "She's right. I'd feel bad if you left without finishing," he said, offering a small, knowing smile.

Ember nodded, her expression warm. "See? Just finish the drink. I'll be right back."

With that, she turned and walked away, her heart pounding with hope. Maybe, in the time she was gone, they'd finally break through the misunderstandings of the past.

 Emir's name flashed on Ember's phone screen, and she quickly answered. His voice carried a sense of urgency.

"Ember, can you come to the shoot with Dylan?"

She hesitated, furrowing her brows. "Why? They haven't finished filming with the actress yet, right?"

Emir sighed, sounding slightly desperate. "We did, but something's missing. It's just not the same without you. You make the difference between this time and last time, Ember. Please, help me out—just this once. I have a flight back home tomorrow."

A moment of silence passed as Ember considered his words. Then, with a quiet sigh, she nodded, even though Emir couldn't see her. "Okay," she said softly.

Clearly relieved, Emir didn't waste a second before responding. "Thank you! I'll come by soon with Dylan after we have lunch. See you later, and thank you again!"

Later, after Ember had left Dylan and Adrien alone, the silence between them didn't last long. Adrien leaned back in his chair, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"She's so childish, but that's what makes her even cuter," he remarked with a chuckle.

Dylan smirked, his expression softening. "Yeah, she's definitely cute."

Dylan shot him a knowing glance before raising a brow. "But aren't you talking about your friend's girlfriend?"

Adrien shrugged, still playful. "Why can't I? I'm just stating the obvious—she is cute."

For a brief second, Dylan paused, the humor in his expression lingering, but a hint of seriousness crept into his voice. "You're right, but..." He trailed off, leaving the words unspoken.

Then, as if on cue, they both broke into laughter, the lighthearted banter dissolving any tension between them.

As the laughter faded, Dylan's expression shifted, his playful demeanor giving way to something more serious. He turned to Adrien, his voice firm. "I'm still mad at you, though."

Adrien raised an eyebrow, watching as Dylan stood up, acting as if he were about to leave. A smirk tugged at his lips. "You sure you're not forgetting something?" he asked, his gaze flicking toward the glass Ember had sipped from earlier.

Dylan followed his gaze, his eyes landing on the half-finished drink. He hesitated for the briefest moment before replying a little too quickly. "I'm not."

Adrien's smirk deepened. "Well, if you're not concerned about your girlfriend's feelings, then I'll drink it on her behalf. And next time, I'll just ask her for another one." He reached for the glass, teasingly.

But before he could grab it, Dylan snatched it away, his movements swift. Without breaking eye contact, he downed the rest of the drink in one go. Setting the empty glass back on the table, he smirked. "I did it for her." His tone was light, but there was a clear edge beneath it. "No need for you to get involved. And next time, stay out of it. I'm serious about her, so quit messing around with your friend's girlfriend, okay?"

With that, Dylan turned on his heel and made his way toward the door, where Ember was waiting outside.

Adrien watched him go, amusement flickering in his eyes. Then, with a quiet chuckle, he shook his head. "He still called me 'friend'… even after everything. Guess he hasn't completely forgotten our friendship."

Leaning back in his seat, his expression grew thoughtful. "Next time, I'll make sure to clear up the past between us—once and for all."

 Dylan stepped out of the restaurant, his hand resting gently on Ember's waist. The sudden touch startled her, but his voice was soft as he asked, "Are you done with your talk?"

Ember nodded. "Yes, we just finished. We should head back to the shoot."

Dylan murmured a quiet "Okay," but there was something unreadable in his eyes. He didn't press for details, yet a thought gnawed at him—I shouldn't have given her that phone. Lately, it felt like Ember was slipping further away, getting involved with people beyond his reach.

Ember caught the tension in his expression, sensing the storm beneath his silence. She knew how possessive and jealous he could get. Wanting to ease the moment, she spoke gently. "It was Emir on the phone. He said he wants to reshoot with me. Something's off with the photos they took with the other actress. I think... he might be talking about me."

Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. "I know I'm not as beautiful as the actress. I'm too short... and my skin's a little darker."

Dylan heard her quiet confession, his heart twisting at her insecurity. But he didn't speak, didn't rush to reassure her. Instead, they walked in silence, his mind tangled in thoughts.

When they arrived at the set, Emir greeted them with an easy smile. "Ember, you're finally here."

Ember straightened, pushing her emotions aside. "So, what do I need to do?"

Emir's voice cut through the moment. "When we shot those two scenes with the actress, it didn't capture what we got when you were in front of the camera. I need that chemistry for the film."

Frustration flickered across Dylan's face. "Why do you always pull Ember into these things? Do you enjoy messing with my girlfriend?"

Emir's expression hardened, his patience thinning. "I'm asking for her help. Why are you interfering?" He turned to Ember, his gaze searching hers. "Right, Ember?"

Caught between their clashing emotions, Ember inhaled deeply and stepped forward, her voice steady. "It's fine. I'll do it. Let's just finish this quickly, Dylan. I want to go home."

Dylan clenched his jaw, his frustration evident, but he said nothing more. Instead, he exhaled sharply and gave a curt nod.

"Okay. Let's get it over with." 

 Emir outlined the scene, his tone instructive. "So, it's set in an office. Ember, you'll be wearing a mask, so you won't have to worry too much about revealing your face. You two get changed, and I'll explain more once you're ready."

Ember and Dylan made their way toward their respective dressing rooms. As they walked, Dylan pulled the makeup artist aside, his voice low but firm. "Don't put too much makeup on Ember's face. I want her natural."

The makeup artist smiled knowingly. "Sir, her skin is so flawless, we hardly ever need to. She doesn't need much at all."

Dylan muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else, "Who wouldn't notice that?"

The makeup artist chuckled awkwardly. "Can I go now?"

Dylan exhaled, nodding slightly. "Yeah… thanks for taking care of her."

 When they emerged from the dressing rooms, Dylan was clad in a crisp white tuxedo, his lemon-yellow tie adding a subtle pop of color. Moments later, Ember followed, dressed in a formal yet elegant ensemble—a lemon-yellow blouse with a low back adorned with delicate beads, paired with flowing white pants. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, her lips tinted a soft pink, and a white mask covered the area around her eyes, adding an air of mystery.

Emir clapped his hands together, drawing their attention. "Alright, let me explain the scene. Ember, in this shot, you're obsessed with Dylan. You're stalking him. He can't see you, but he can feel your presence… your touch."

Ember blinked, slightly puzzled by the concept. She turned to Dylan, picturing him in the scene, and let out a soft chuckle. "Okay," she said, still a little unsure but willing to go along with it.

As they moved to the office set, Dylan leaned in, his voice steady yet reassuring. "Just follow my lead. Look into my eyes in every shot, and it'll all work out."

Ember met his gaze, something in his tone making her feel at ease. She gave a small nod.

She trusted him.

 Dylan sat in the office chair, his movements slow and deliberate as he guided Ember onto the table in front of him. His voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper. "Look into my eyes. Think of the moment we kiss, and place your hand on my right cheek."

Ember swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath, but her heart raced wildly against her chest. A deep flush spread across her cheeks, the warmth of embarrassment mingling with something else—anticipation. The soft clicks of the camera filled the room, capturing each fleeting emotion on her face.

For the next pose, Ember stood behind Dylan's chair, her gaze locked on him while he pretended to be engrossed in his work. Then came the moment that made her breath hitch—she was seated on his lap, her eyes unconsciously drifting toward his lips. Dylan held a document in one hand, playing his role effortlessly, but she could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken energy crackling between them.

The final shot was the most intimate yet. Dylan lay on the table, his dark eyes watching her as Ember leaned over him, her fingertips trailing lightly along his jawline. The moment stretched between them, delicate and charged, as the camera shutter clicked one last time.

 After the main shoot wrapped up, Emir wasn't done yet. He insisted on taking a few solo shots of Ember, even though exhaustion was beginning to settle in her limbs.

The first pose had her seated in a chair, her posture poised and graceful. In the second, she stood with her back to the camera, her profile barely visible as she turned just enough to reveal the delicate curve of her face. The third shot was more dramatic—Ember lay on the table, her legs elegantly together, her hands raised above her head as if bound by invisible ropes. Her eyes remained closed, evoking a quiet vulnerability, a sense of surrender.

For the final shot, Ember held a bouquet of roses, lifting them to her nose as she inhaled their delicate fragrance. A soft smile touched her lips, capturing a moment of quiet serenity.

With the last frame taken, the shoot was finally over. Dylan and Ember headed back to the dressing room, eager to change out of their outfits and leave. But just as they were about to walk out, Emir approached them, his expression warm. "Let me take you both to dinner as a thank-you for today. You worked hard."

Dylan was about to refuse, but before he could speak, Ember reached for his arm, her touch gentle but firm. "Don't argue, Dylan. Let's go. I'm really hungry," she said, her voice light, a small smile playing on her lips. She looked up at him, her expression playful, hoping to soften his mood.

Dylan sighed but relented, his fingers intertwining briefly with hers as they followed Emir toward the restaurant.

After dinner, Emir suggested a celebratory drink to mark the end of their project, especially since he would soon be leaving the country. Dylan hesitated at first, but Emir was persistent. He turned to Ember, silently seeking her opinion.

She met his gaze and gave him a small smile. "It's fine if you want to have a drink," she assured him, though she decided not to join them.

As the night stretched on, Dylan and Emir lost track of time, their glasses emptying as laughter filled the air. The warmth of the alcohol dulled their senses, leaving them tipsy, while Ember waited patiently. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and she dozed off, her head resting against the edge of the dining table, her breathing soft and steady.

Dylan's gaze softened the moment he noticed her asleep. A faint smile played on his lips as he reached for his phone, calling his driver to take them home and arranging a cab for Emir. Then, with the utmost care, he scooped Ember into his arms, making sure not to wake her.

After bidding Emir farewell, Dylan brought Ember home. Though still slightly intoxicated, he carried her to her room, gently laying her down on the bed. With quiet precision, he pulled the blanket over her, tucking her in as if she were the most fragile thing in the world.

For a moment, he just sat beside her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. A stray strand of hair fell across her face, and he reached out, brushing it aside. As his fingers ghosted over her skin, she stirred slightly, a small, peaceful smile forming in her sleep.

Dylan felt his heart clench. Leaning closer, he whispered, "You know… you make me jealous sometimes." His voice was barely audible, almost as if he were confessing a secret to the night itself. "Taking the side of other men like Adrien… and Emir."

He exhaled softly, recalling how Ember always encouraged him to voice his emotions, to avoid misunderstandings between them. But somehow, these words—his insecurities, his fears—were easier to admit when she wasn't awake to hear them.

"I don't know how to keep this part of you—this side of you—just for myself," he murmured, his fingers tracing an invisible pattern on the blanket. "I want that part of you, the one you only reveal when you're comfortable… when you're truly yourself. You shine like a star, Ember, and everyone sees it. But selfishly, I want to be the only one who gets to bask in that light."

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head at his own thoughts. Then, leaning down, he pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger for just a moment longer than necessary.

With a final glance, he stood up and walked toward the door, pausing briefly before stepping out. As he made his way back to his own room, he collapsed onto his bed with a sigh.

Sleep took him quickly, but even in his dreams, the feelings remained—a mix of comfort, longing, and the silent ache of wanting something he wasn't sure he could ever truly claim.