Chapter 1

I KISSED THE WRONG GUY

NATE

Okay. So.

I've been sitting here for, like, an eternity. My supposed-to-be-on-time co-model promised he'd be here before six. You know, like a normal, responsible adult with a functioning clock?

Guess what time it is now? Eight freaking o'clock. That's two hours of my life I will never get back. I could've watched an entire K-drama, done my skin care routine twice, and maybe even solved world peace.

But no. I'm still here, staring at a half-empty wine glass like the lead character in a melodramatic teleserye.

I sighed again—probably the 39th sigh of the night. I swear, if sighing burned calories, I'd have abs by now. I was this close to storming out in my designer boots when, out of nowhere, a woman walks up to me.

She looked like she just clocked out of a telenovela herself—neatly tied bun, faint lipstick, holding a bouquet like it was some kind of offering to the gods.

"Excuse me, are you Sir Nate?" she asked, smiling all sweet.

"Yes, that's me," I replied, flipping my hair mentally because hello, I'm always Nate.

She hands me this fancy bouquet wrapped in baby blue. "This is for you," she said and just... walked away.

Wait, what?

I looked around in confusion. Did someone just send me flowers? Am I being scouted for The Bachelor: Manila Edition? Did my co-model finally get some taste?

And then I saw it—a tiny card poking out of the petals like a nosey little gossip.

To: Nate

Hi, I'm sorry for making you wait...

I have a surprise for you.

Go to the back of the restaurant.

– Tew

Oh.

Ohhhhhh.

Suddenly, the dramatics made sense.

Flowers? A note? A surprise?

I smirked. Okay, Tew. I see you. Is this a grand romantic gesture? Is someone about to kneel and propose with a Cartier ring? I mean... I wouldn't be mad about it.

So naturally, I stood up with the grace of a runway queen and sashayed toward the back of the restaurant like I was about to receive my Oscar. I mean, when life gives you mystery flowers, you better give it red carpet energy.

I opened the door.

Darkness. Total darkness. Like, what-is-this-a-horror-movie darkness.

But I stepped in anyway because apparently I have zero self-preservation instincts when potential drama is involved.

Then... music.

Soft guitar. Sweet, husky voice singing a love song. A guy-shaped silhouette in the middle of the room. I squinted but couldn't see his face. Very Netflix drama reveal moment.

And then—he stepped closer. I blinked. He didn't say a word.

Then, BOOM.

He kissed me.

Like, full-on rom-com, lips-on-lips, hands-on-waist action. His lips were soft. His grip was confident. It was giving... boyfriend energy. And for a second—just a tiny, stupid, magical second—I didn't resist.

Then my brain finally screamed:

"SWEETIE, WHO EVEN IS THIS?!"

I shoved him back slightly and we both stared at each other like we'd just been caught committing a crime. Which, technically, kissing a stranger might be.

"What—What?!" we both said, in stereo.

FLASH. FLASH. FLASH.

And then the lights exploded on, like we were on a game show and the prize was public humiliation.

Cameras.

Everywhere.

People with phones. Staff. Waiters. Even some girl in a bunny headband holding a DSLR like she was at Coachella.

And in that horrific, nightmare-level moment, I finally saw him.

He. Was. Not. My. Co-model.

He was a stranger.

A hot stranger, sure, but still a stranger.

And the worst part?

I kissed the wrong guy.

________

This was it. The moment.

I'd been planning this for weeks.

A private dinner, flowers, lights, a song I composed just for him. It was supposed to be beautiful, intimate. The kind of anniversary celebration that says, "I love you and I still choose you."

Jake reserved the entire restaurant just for this night. Shaun was outside waiting for Nathan, my boyfriend, to arrive and make sure no one else could walk in and ruin the surprise.

Everything was perfect.

I stood there in the dark, gripping my mic tightly. My palms were cold. My heart? Beating out of rhythm like it couldn't decide if it was excited or terrified.

And then... the door opened.

He entered. His silhouette framed by the soft hallway lights.

I kept my head down, a little smile playing on my lips. I wanted him to feel the music before seeing me. The plan was to sing the last line and then—kiss him. Seal the surprise with a memory.

So I sang.

I stepped closer.

He didn't move away.

He even leaned in.

My hands instinctively found his waist, and in the moment that felt like poetry, I kissed him.

It was warm. Soft. Familiar—but also not.

Something felt... off. His lips moved differently. His scent, his stance, the way his hand didn't hold back—none of it was Nathan.

The kiss ended, and when we finally opened our eyes—

My heart dropped.

That wasn't Nathan.

It was a stranger.

A guy I had never seen in my life before tonight.

"What?!" we both blurted at the same time.

The lights switched on.

Cameras flashed.

People gasped.

Everything stopped for a second.

And then exploded.

My mind went blank. My throat tightened, and before I could even ask him who the hell he was, this guy grabbed my wrist like he owned the world and started dragging me out of the restaurant.

"Wait—hey! Where are we going?!"

I tried to protest but couldn't even find the right emotion to land on. Shock? Anger? Embarrassment?

People were following us—staff, photographers, random passersby who now had front-row seats to the most awkward moment of my life.

We reached the sidewalk.

"Where's your car?!" he barked.

I blinked, still trying to process the last five minutes. "Uh... there. The BMW."

"Open it. We need to talk," he growled like I just ruined his entire career.

He was pissed. Rightfully so, maybe. But also—so was I.

As soon as we sat inside, he ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled so loudly I thought the windows would fog.

"What the hell did you just do?" he snapped.

"I don't know!" I half-shouted, panicking. "You walked in! I thought you were someone else!"

"You kissed me!"

"I know that!" I snapped. "But I thought you were my boyfriend! Why the hell did you even come in?!"

"You handed me flowers! With a note! Telling me to go to the back!" he shouted. "What did you expect me to do, eat them?!"

My phone rang before I could yell back.

Nathan.

Finally.

I fumbled to answer, voice shaking.

"Love—hey—listen, I know what it looked like—"

[ "Go home, Matt. We need to talk." ]

Just that. Nothing else. No "I love you," no "Are you okay?" Just the kind of calm that makes you realize someone's already made a decision.

"Okay," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

The guy beside me huffed. "The heck is your problem?"

"None of your business," I muttered.

"Take me to the BOC building. I'm going to get dragged by my manager again," he whined, rubbing his face. "My career's on the line now, thanks to you."

"Where even is that?"

He gave me the most dramatic "are-you-kidding-me" face and threw his phone at me with the location pulled up. "Here. GPS. Follow it. Genius."

Great. He was beautiful, loud, and high-key chaotic. Like a walking headline.

And while I was trying to gather what was left of my shattered anniversary, he wouldn't stop complaining.

"If you weren't such a clueless moron, none of this would've happened!" he huffed. "Now my public image is in ruins!"

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. "Can we talk about this another time? I need to fix things with my boyfriend first. This... this is important."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes so hard I swore I heard them.

"Oh, because you're the only one with problems now, huh?!" he snapped.

I gripped the steering wheel and focused on the road. One wrong turn and I might just drive off a cliff. Not out of despair—just to escape this man.

When we finally reached his building, he flung the door open like he was escaping prison.

And honestly?

Same.

Except I didn't escape.

I drove away... with my heart crashing in my chest.

Because deep down, I already knew—

Nathan Lim wasn't going to forgive me.

_______

Matt's POV

I stood in front of the door for a solid ten minutes, holding the doorknob like it might bite me. My hand was shaking, even though the hallway was warm. I could hear the faint hum of our living room speakers inside—Nathan always played lo-fi beats when he cooked. He said it calmed him.

But nothing about this moment felt calm.

I finally pushed the door open, slowly.

Nathan was there, exactly where I expected him to be—on the couch, still in his office clothes, a cup of tea cradled in his hands. He wasn't even pretending to be distracted by the TV. He was just... waiting.

"Hey," I said, my voice cracking like it had forgotten how to work.

He looked up. His eyes were tired. That kind of tired that seeps into the bones. "You're late."

I stepped inside, closing the door behind me like it was sealing my fate. "I know. I... things got complicated."

He nodded once, then placed the cup on the coffee table without a sound. "I saw the video."

There it was. Four words that shattered the dam inside my chest.

I walked closer, slow, like I was approaching a wild animal. "Nathan, please let me explain—"

"You kissed him."

"It was a mistake! I swear, I thought it was you!" My voice broke on the last word. "The whole thing was dark, and the music was playing and—God, I know how it sounds. But you have to believe me."

Nathan sat still, hands clasped in his lap. "It doesn't matter who you thought it was. You kissed someone who wasn't me. And now the world knows before I even had the chance to process it."

I fell to my knees in front of him. "Don't do this. Don't throw us away because of one stupid moment."

He closed his eyes. "I'm not throwing us away, Matt. I'm trying to save what little dignity I have left. I've stood by you through all the rehearsals, the late-night recordings, the last-minute cancellations. But this... this feels like a line I didn't even see coming."

I reached for his hands, and this time he let me hold them. "Then let me fix it. I'll talk to the press. I'll make a statement. I'll quit the project if I have to."

Nathan finally looked me in the eyes. And that was the worst part—because all I saw was goodbye.

"No," he said gently. "Don't quit for me. This is your dream. And maybe... maybe this is my sign to stop chasing something that always has to come second to your career."

"I'll do better," I whispered. "I'll put you first. I promise."

"I believe you." His smile was soft, broken. "But I don't know if that's enough right now."

"So... what are you saying?"

He stood up, walked toward the hallway, then stopped. "I'm saying we take a break. For now. Maybe some time apart will help us see if we're still walking the same path."

I felt my world tip sideways. "A break? For how long?"

"I don't know."

And with that, Nathan disappeared into our bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

I sat there on the floor, surrounded by the faint scent of his tea and the silence of a love that wasn't quite gone... but no longer whole.

_______

I stormed into the BOC Building like a glittery hurricane in sneakers that probably weren't built for speed, but looked amazing on marble floors. My hair? A fluffy chaos, courtesy of caffeine and existential dread. My oversized hoodie was clinging to me like it sensed danger, and my sunglasses were halfway down my nose because I needed to witness the end of my own career in real time.

"Excuse me, I need a moment of silence," I muttered to no one as I glided across the 14th floor of BOC Entertainment—home of dreams, drama, and a pending PR crisis starring yours truly.

There, on the couch in the lounge like he owned the place (which, let's be honest, emotionally he did), was Brice Solene. My PR manager. My friend. My occasional emergency stylist-slash-therapist. He was scrolling through his tablet while sipping from a rhinestone-covered tumbler that screamed I've dealt with worse... but barely.

He didn't look up. "You're late, you're loud, and you smell like espresso and bad press. You good, sunshine?"

I dropped next to him like a crumpled mannequin from a Zara window. "Brice. I kissed a man. Last night. On camera."

He paused. Slowly turned his head to look at me. "You... did what?"

"I kissed a man," I repeated, hands flailing. "Like, full-on, lips-to-lips. With witnesses! And cameras! And mood lighting!"

Brice's tablet slid off his lap. "Please tell me this is a TikTok prank."

"It's not!" I whisper-screamed. "It's a very real kiss that ended up on the internet in full HD! He sang to me in the dark, Brice. There were flowers. A surprise. And then—bam! Instant scandal."

Brice's eyes widened like saucers. "No, no, no, no. Nate—oh my god—you kissed a stranger on camera?! Do you have any idea how many crisis meetings that's worth?!"

"I didn't know he was a stranger! I thought he was my co-actor! His boyfriend's name is also Nate! He thought I was his Nate and—ugh, the universe tricked me!"

"Oh my god, we're doomed." Brice stood up and started pacing like his shoes were powered by stress. "My phone's been vibrating like a blender since 8 a.m. I thought it was just trolls or your fan club doing their usual chaos. Nate, this is not a 'whoops I dyed my hair green' kind of situation. This is DEFCON KISS."

"I'm trending again, aren't I?"

"You're number three. Number TWO in Thailand. Why are we viral in Thailand?!"

I buried my face in my hands. "I think someone subtitled the video with 'Unexpected Lovers' or something... There's a slow-mo version with sparkles, Brice. Sparkles."

"Oh god." He pressed the tumbler to his forehead like it could take away his migraine. "This is every PR nightmare I've trained for. You weren't even wearing lip balm! You looked emotionally unprepared! You blinked during the kiss, Nate!"

"I WAS SURPRISED, OBVIOUSLY!"

"Did you at least look hot?"

"I mean... I always look hot."

Brice groaned. "That doesn't help me write the press statement!"

Just then, like the universe was waiting for us to reach peak panic, the intercom buzzed.

"Mr. Villanueva, Mr. Solene. Boss Lau would like to see you both in the conference room. Immediately."

We both froze. I turned to Brice. "They know."

"Of course they know! It's their job to know! Nate, Boss Lau is going to skin me alive with a manila folder!"

"What if they kick me out? What if I get replaced by that guy from TikTok who fake-cries in every video?"

Brice clutched his tablet like a rosary. "You're not getting replaced. You're too marketable. But I swear, if we survive this meeting, we're signing you up for kiss verification drills. From now on, you kiss no one unless I've cleared it legally."

"But... I trended?"

Brice took a deep breath, straightened his blazer, and exhaled like he was entering a warzone. "Yes. You trended. Which means we might be able to spin this."

I blinked. "Into what?"

He gave me a half-crazed, PR-professional smile. "Into opportunity. Let's go, Nate. If we're going down, we're going down in glitter and ratings."

Boss Lau was already in the conference room, looking like someone just told him his coffee was decaf. He motioned for us to sit. We obeyed like schoolchildren about to get scolded.

"I have good news," he began. "The team just finalized a project we've been eyeing for you. It's a rom-com series called Seoulmates in Cebu. You'll play Julian, a hopeless romantic who finds love in the wrong person at the wrong time. Sound familiar?"

Brice cleared his throat. "Suspiciously."

Lau ignored him and continued. "There's a press con next week. We haven't announced your co-lead yet. But we'll need all hands on deck for the rollout."

Just then, one of the assistants—bless her innocent soul—clicked open a YouTube tab to show a music video idea. Instead, it autoplayed the top trending video: me. Kissing. That. Man.

In high definition.

Under fairy lights.

With subtitles that read: "Love at First Mistake."

The entire room went silent except for Brice's very loud internal screaming.

"Pause it," Lau said sharply. The assistant scrambled, but not before the slow-mo replay began. My face filled the screen. Then his face.

Lau squinted. "Wait... Is that... Matthew Cohen Reyes?"

"The singer?" another staff member added. "From Lyra Entertainment? He's... mildly known?"

I sank into my seat. "Yup. That's him. We've never met before that night. Wrong identity situation. I think he thought I was a different Nate."

Boss Lau pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, you kissed someone from another company... and now it's trending... and we're launching a rom-com series where you kiss someone else entirely?"

"I mean... life imitates art?" I offered weakly.

He looked like he aged five years in five seconds. "Do you know how many phone calls I'm going to get today?"

Brice, brave soul that he was, jumped in. "We can spin it! Mistaken identity, fate, accidental spark, viral chemistry—this is basically free marketing!"

Lau turned to me. "Nate. What do you want to do?"

I blinked. "Wait. I have a say?"

"You caused this, you help fix it."

Brice and I exchanged a look.

"Well..." I said slowly. "We could either apologize and disappear... or we ride this like a K-drama wave and make it part of the launch?"

Lau didn't respond. He just sighed. Deeply. The kind of sigh that could power a wind farm.

"You have 24 hours," he finally said. "Figure it out. Because next week, you're going to be standing in front of cameras, and if someone asks you about this video and you freeze, I'm sending you to host cooking segments on morning TV."

I swallowed. "Understood."

Brice whispered beside me, "Honestly, the cooking show might be easier."

I whispered back, "Not if I burn eggs like last time."

And just like that, I was one scandal deep, one co-lead unknown, and one press con away from either saving my career... or ending up as a meme.

_________

Matt's POV

I was sitting outside my apartment door like a kicked puppy, head leaning back against the wall, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. My heart felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry under fluorescent lights.

Then, the door next to mine creaked open.

"Oh my god," Jake whispered. Loudly. "Is that a body?"

"No, idiot," Ciandrei said, peeking from behind him. "It's Matt. He looks like a wet towel."

Jake gasped. "Matt, blink twice if Nathan murdered your soul."

I sighed. "Can you guys not? I'm really not in the mood."

Ciandrei crouched beside me, inspecting my face like a mom who just saw her child fall off a bike. "Did you cry?"

"I didn't not cry," I muttered.

Jake sat down on my other side, holding out a leftover cookie still inside a Ziploc. "Here. It's peanut butter. Sad people eat peanut butter, right?"

I stared at it. "Do you two have zero emotional training or is this all natural talent?"

"Natural," they said in unison, proud.

Ciandrei gently patted my knee. "Wanna talk about it, or should we just sit here and pretend we're in an indie film?"

I almost smiled. Almost. "Nathan asked for a break."

They both gasped like I just told them Santa was quitting Christmas.

"Oh no. A break?" Jake said dramatically. "That's not even a breakup, that's the haunted waiting room before hell."

"He didn't even slam the door," I said. "He just... walked away."

Ciandrei rubbed my shoulder. "He's classy like that. Honestly, if it were me, I would've thrown a mug."

"See," Jake added, "that's why we're single. But hey, if you need revenge hair dye or an accidental shopping spree, we are so available."

I finally let out a weak laugh. "You guys are insane."

Jake grinned. "But you love us."

"I tolerate you."

They grinned wider. And for a second, the sting in my chest eased just a little.

"Now scoot," Ciandrei said, getting up and pulling me by the arm. "You're sleeping over at our place tonight. We've got face masks, wine, and Legally Blonde 2. It's time for your healing arc."

I let them drag me inside. Because honestly? I wasn't ready to be alone with the silence yet.

And they—loud, chaotic, overly dramatic—were exactly what I needed.

//