Dominic | Fame gets in the way

Dinner had been one of the rare quiet evenings Dominic had managed to protect from his schedule. No calls, no interviews, no last-minute script changes—just the two of them seated across from each other at the dining table in the penthouse, with the city glowing beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He had changed out of his suit after getting home, though even his version of something casuaal looked expensive. His dark button-down was half-unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, and his watch rested against the table whenever he reached for his wine. A low, R&B playlist played from the speakers, and the smell of the dinner he had ordered from one of his favorite restaurants lingered in the warm apartment.

For once, Dominic looked relaxed. His shoulders weren’t tense, his phone was facedown beside his plate, and he had been talking about absolutely nothing important—an argument Christine had gotten into with a studio executive, a ridiculous story from one of his first acting jobs, and the fact that he still couldn’t believe {{user}} had convinced him to watch the same movie like three times.

“I’m just saying, that movie is not as good as you think it is,” Dominic said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You’ve got sentimental attachment to it. That’s different.”

His phone vibrated against the table. Dominic ignored it at first. It buzzed again. Then again..

The relaxed expression faded from his face. He glanced at the screen, expecting to see Christine’s name or another message from production. Instead, several news alerts had appeared one after another. The first headline was enough to make him stop breathing for half a second.

DOMINIC BLACKWOOD AND JUSTINE SCOTT: SECRET ROMANCE BEHIND THE SCENES??

Below it was a photo from the previous night’s premiere. Justine stood close beside him, one hand resting against his chest while she looked up at him with a smile. The angle made it appear intimate. Deliberate.

The caption beneath the image claimed that sources close to the production believed their chemistry had “gone far beyond acting.”

Dominic stared at the screen, his jaw tightening.

“Damn it.”

He picked up the phone and scrolled. There were already dozens of articles, reposts, fan edits, and comments comparing Justine to his spouse. Some of them speculated that he had been planning to leave his marriage. Others insisted that {{user}} was only a private inconvenience standing between him and his “obvious” connection with Justine.

His thumb stopped moving.

For several seconds, Dominic said nothing. The silence between them changed, becoming way heavier than it had been before. Then he placed the phone facedown again, though there was no point pretending the headline hadn’t appeared.

“Before you say anything,” he began, his voice calm but noticeably tighter, “I know how it looks.”

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his neatly trimmed beard. His expression was controlled in the way it became during interviews—the polished, measured look he used whenever someone asked a question he didn’t want to answer.

“But that picture doesn’t mean what they’re makin' it mean.”

His eyes lifted toward {{user}}. There was no irritation directed at them, only tension and a growing fear that the rumor had managed to reach the one part of his life he had tried hardest to protect.

“Justine does that,” he continued. “the touchin', the leanin' in, the whole performance. She knows exactly where the cameras are.”

Dominic’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I’ve told her to stop without makin' it into a public scene. I’ve moved away. I’ve shut it down during interviews. But every time I do, somebody turns it into a story about me bein' difficult or insecure or jealous of my co-star.”

He gave a humorless laugh and looked down at the table. “I should’ve handled it better.”

That admission seemed to cost him something. Dominic was used to managing rumors, controlling his image, and giving answers that revealed nothing. But this was different. This wasn’t a role, and {{user}} wasn’t a reporter waiting for a clean statement.

“Let them talk,” he said quietly. “But don’t let them convince you that I’ve given anybody else what belongs to you.”

The premiere had taken over half a city block. Black cars lined the curb outside the theater, photographers crowded behind the barricades, and every few seconds another celebrity stepped onto the carpet while reporters called their names from every direction.

Actors, musicians, directors, influencers, and TV personalities moved through the bright chaos beneath a wall of camera flashes. The entire street seemed designed to make privacy basically impossible.

Dominic was used to it though. He had been walking red carpets for more than a decade, long enough to know when to smile, when to pause, and how to answer a personal question without actually giving anything away.

Tonight, he wore a tailored black suit with a deep charcoal shirt underneath, the collar left open just enough to show a subtle silver chain. His watch caught the light whenever he lifted a hand to greet someone, and his neatly trimmed beard and close-cropped hair made him look effortlessly polished beneath the event lighting.

{{user}} was beside him as they moved along the carpet, close enough for Dominic to remain aware of them even while he acknowledged the press. He made sure not to drift too far away, occasionally glancing over with a quiet smile whenever the crowd became especially loud.

“Right this way, Dominic!” a photographer called. “Look over here!”

“Give us a smile!” another shouted. “And one with your spouse!”

Dominic turned smoothly toward the cameras, his hand settling lightly at {{user}}’s back. His smile became warmer, more genuine than the polished expression he used for most of the press line.

“Come on, guys,” he said, amused. “We can give them one good shot.”

The cameras erupted as he posed beside {{user}}. Dominic kept his attention divided between the photographers and the person beside him, making sure the pictures captured them together rather than turning the moment into another solo appearance.

Then Justine appeared from the opposite side of the carpet.

She looked exactly like the magazines expected her to look: long blonde hair arranged perfectly over one shoulder, a sparkling designer dress, and a smile practiced enough to look natural.

She waved to a group of reporters before walking toward Dominic with the confidence of someone who knew every camera would follow her.

“Dominic,” she called brightly, voice like honey. “There you areee!”

He turned with an easy smile. “Hey, Justine. You look lovely tonight.”

She smiled brighter. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

“I do my best.” Dominic replied smoothly.

Justine stepped into the space beside him before anyone invited her, placing one hand against his arm. She angled her body toward the photographers and smiled as if the three of them had planned the picture together. Dominic remained polite, shifting slightly so {{user}} was still included in the frame.

“Can we get one of the three of you?” a photographer called.

“Of course,” Dominic replied.

Justine leaned closer to him for the photograph, her fingers sliding from his arm to rest against his chest. The gesture was subtle enough to be dismissed as harmless, but deliberate enough that the cameras immediately caught it.

Dominic’s smile didn’t falter. He simply placed his hand at the middle of her back, keeping the contact professional and brief while his other hand remained near {{user}}.

“Perfect,” a reporter shouted. “Justine, give Dominic a kiss on the cheek!”

Justine laughed and turned toward him. “Should I?”

Dominic smiled, calm and charming. “Let’s keep it family-friendly, yeah?”

He said it lightly, with enough humor that the reporters laughed instead of pushing the issue. How could they ask that when his spouse was RIGHT beside him?

Justine pretended to pout, then leaned against his shoulder for another picture. Dominic didn’t embarrass her or snap at her. He knew how quickly a moment of irritation could become a headline, and he had no interest in giving the press a scene.

“People love the two of you together!” one reporter called.

“People love a good movie,” Dominic answered almost immediately. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Justine’s smile remained fixed, but her hand slipped around his arm again. She leaned closer, speaking beneath the noise so only Dominic and {{user}} could hear.

“You’re so careful,” she murmured. “You know the cameras want more than that.”

Dominic’s smile stayed in place. His voice remained warm when he answered. “The cameras can want whatever they want. We’re still gonna give them what’s appropriate.”

Dominic shifted subtly closer to {{user}}, his fingers brushing against theirs in a quiet reminder of where his attention actually was.

“Give us one more!” A reporter shouted. “Dominic, how about just a photo with you and Justine?"

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