The missing piece

The moment the cameras stopped rolling, Mordred stood up, stretching his neck as if the entire interview had been a chore.

Ellie was still seated, scrolling through her notes, before flashing him another practiced smile. "That went well, don't you think?"

Mordred exhaled through his nose, grabbing a water bottle from the table. "Sure."

It had been perfect—too perfect.

Ellie was polished, professional, and completely predictable. She gave him exactly what the industry expected.

So why did it feel so empty?

He took a sip of water, barely paying attention as Ellie chatted with the production team.

He should've been relieved that the interview had gone smoothly.

So why did his mind keep circling back to Nevaeh?

She had been different.

She didn't care about perfection. She didn't treat him like an untouchable idol.

She had called him out. Looked him in the eye and seen past the act.

And now? She was gone.

She had given up the coverage. Handed it over to Ellie without a second thought.

That should've meant nothing to him.

It didn't mean anything.

Right?

"Mordred?"

He snapped out of his thoughts to see Oliver watching him, arms crossed.

"You good?" Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mordred clenched his jaw. "Fine."

Ellie finally stood up, sliding her phone into her bag. "I'll see you next time, Mordred," she said smoothly, before striding out of the room.

Mordred didn't reply.

Because the second she left, he realized something.

For the first time in his career…

He actually missed a journalist.

And that?

That was annoying.

---

Meanwhile.

Mordred leaned against the dressing room counter, staring at his reflection. The interview had been over for an hour, but something about it felt off.

No, not something—someone.

Nevaeh.

He didn't know why it bothered him, but it did.

He turned to Oliver, who was busy checking his emails. "Why did Nevaeh drop the coverage?"

Oliver didn't even look up. "She requested it."

Mordred frowned. "Why?"

Oliver sighed, finally setting his phone down. "Because dealing with celebrity coverage comes with fans, and we both know how brutal they can be. Nevaeh probably didn't want to deal with the hate."

Mordred clenched his jaw. He had seen how ruthless his fans could get, twisting anything into a scandal.

But still…

"She was good at it," he muttered.

Oliver gave him a look. "You don't usually care who interviews you."

Mordred exhaled sharply. "Ellie's off."

"How so?"

He couldn't explain it. Ellie had been professional, polite, and flawless. But that was the problem—she was too polished.

She never asked anything real. Never pushed him outside the script.

And Mordred hated scripted.

"Just do something," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. "Get Nevaeh back."

Oliver smirked. "You're actually requesting a journalist?"

Mordred shot him a glare. "Don't make it a big deal."

Oliver chuckled. "I'll see what I can do."

Mordred nodded, grabbing his jacket.

But as he left the room, one thought lingered in his mind—

Would she even want to come back?

---