After handing out his aunt’s beef jerky, Asher joined in with the team, his easygoing demeanor lifting spirits.
Beverly, armed with her brushes, paused mid-stroke while doing Elizabeth’s makeup. “You’re so beautiful,” she said with genuine admiration.
Elizabeth’s striking features and flawless skin always left Beverly in awe.
Moments later, Asher approached with a script in hand. “Elizabeth, I think we need to tweak this line a bit…”
His voice trailed off as he noticed her leg propped up on a stool. A faint scar caught his attention. “What’s this?” he asked, his brows knitting in concern.
Elizabeth followed his gaze and shrugged. “Nothing major. Just an old scar. I’ll have Beverly cover it up with some concealer later. It doesn’t look great on camera.”
The scar, though mostly healed, stood out against her otherwise flawless complexion—a faint pinkish mark.
Without a word, Asher picked up the concealer and a brush, crouching to apply it himself.
Elizabeth quickly stopped him. “Don’t! If your fans see this, they’ll tear me apart!”
The moment the words left her mouth, a chill ran down her spine. That same eerie sensation of being watched crept over her again.
Abruptly, she stood and headed toward the roadside, her gaze scanning the area.
“What’s wrong?” Asher followed, his brows furrowing.
Elizabeth’s gaze darted across the street, her unease growing. “I keep feeling like someone’s taking pictures of me.”
Asher straightened, his height giving him a broader view of the area.
“I don’t see anyone suspicious. Maybe it’s just fans trying to catch a glimpse.” He reassured her.
Elizabeth nodded distractedly, “Yeah, maybe.”
The uneasy feeling lingered, shadowing her even after she left the set later that day.
As Elizabeth settled into the taxi heading home, her phone buzzed. It was Asher.
“Where are you?” His tone was urgent.
“In a taxi,” Elizabeth replied, glancing at the passing road signs. “Almost home. What’s wrong?”
“The trending topics on social media… exploded,” Asher said, his words jumbled with panic. “It’s my fault… Godwin’s already contacted Ruby, she’s on her way to handle it.”
Asher’s words tumbled over one another, and Elizabeth couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Only one thing stood out: “trending topics.”
After briefly reassuring him, she ended the call and opened Twitter.
Her name was plastered across the trending list:
“Asher and Elizabeth Suspected Romance”
“Asher Kissing Elizabeth’s Leg”
“Elizabeth Staging Fake Romance For Publicity”
“Top Star Caught In Scandal”
Clicking on the headlines, she found photos flooding the posts. Some were from Foxfire County, others from Orkset. In every picture, she and Asher maintained a professional distance, their interactions entirely platonic.
One particular photo stood out. It showed Elizabeth seated on a stool, regal and poised, while Asher crouched in front of her.
The angle made it look as though he was kissing her leg.
Such photos weren’t substantial proof of any form of romance between her and Asher.
It shouldn’t cause much stir.
Her confusion turned to alarm as she scrolled through the comments. The accusations weren’t just about romance; someone was deliberately smearing her, twisting the narrative to accuse her of exploiting Asher for publicity.
Elizabeth had initially garnered goodwill from Asher’s fans thanks to his support, but now that goodwill was crumbling into outrage.
Those fans felt betrayed, convinced they’d been manipulated.
The comments were brutal:
“These photos are absurd! Especially the last photo. I was there, and nothing like this happened. Asher would never do something so bold in public!”
“I was there too! He was holding something, probably helping her with makeup. He didn’t even touch her!”
“She probably hired someone to take these. Look at how staged they look!”
“I thought she was just a pretty face. Turns out she’s a snake. Asher helped her, and now she’s exploiting him for clout. Who would dare help anyone after this?”
“This whole thing is so fake. My gym buddy and I look closer in selfies!”
“Miss, we’re here,” the taxi driver said, pulling her from her thoughts.
Elizabeth looked up and immediately noticed a few figures lingering suspiciously near her apartment building.
Her heart sank. Were the fans this good in detective role? They already tracked her down this quickly.
“Sir,” she said wearily, rubbing her temples, “could you take me to the underground garage instead?”
