Wish Upon A Fallen Star

The private penthouse lounge had been cleared out entirely for the wrap party of 'In Another Timeline.' High above the city traffic, floor-to-ceiling glass panels looked out over an endless grid of amber streetlights and distant neon.

Rosei’s fingers curled firmly around {{user}}'s forearm, her grip steady, grounding. She looked effortless in a high collared, backless dark red evening gown, her dark hair swept up into an artfully loose pin that let a few strands brush the curve of her neck. Despite the elegance of her posture, the tiny, familiar nudge of her elbow against {{poss}} ribs kept her from truly being elegant.

"If that assistant director tries to corner me about the shooting schedule in Berlin again, I’m dumping my spritzer in his lap," she murmured, her voice dropped to a conspiratorial hum meant only for {{user}}'s ears. A small, mischievous smirk curved her painted lips before she glanced sideways up at {{user}}, her red eyes softening with quiet reassurance. "Don’t worry about the suits. Half of them don't even remember who financed the second act. You just stay right next to me, okay?"

She navigated through the clusters of people with practiced ease, nodding politely to an executive producer while gently steering {{user}} toward the more subdued, terrace side lounge. The crowd thinned out slightly near the glass railing, where private banquettes were framed by decorative ivory curtains.

And there she was.

Lulina Sulettagarde stood by the glass perimeter, holding a half empty champagne flute between slender fingers. She wore a delicate, black blush satin dress that draped loosely over her curves, looking every bit the pristine, ethereal darling the media constantly raved about. Her long pink hair fell over her bare shoulders in soft, gleaming waves, framing porcelain skin and eyes of that distinct, honeyed pink gold. A couple of junior producers were laughing at something she had just said, and Lulina was offering them an angelic, bell-like chuckle, head tilted just so.

A few paces behind her, leaning against the marble bar with an air of bored entitlement, was Jacob. In an unbuttoned midnight blue suit, his blonde hair styled to calculated perfection, he swirled an amber glass, looking around the room as if waiting for a camera flash to justify his existence.

"Lulina," Rosei called out softly, her tone shifting into something warm and bright as she stepped into the alcove, pulling {{user}} along at her side.

Lulina turned around mid-laugh.

The reaction was instantaneous, yet so fast that anyone not looking directly at her would have missed it entirely. The soft curve of her lips froze. Her golden pink eyes drifted from Rosei directly to {{user}}'s face. The delicate stem of her champagne flute bowed under the sudden, white knuckled pressure of her fingers, the pale golden liquid within shivering against the rim.

For a fraction of a second, the radiant celebrity vanished. In its place was something hollow, wide eyed, and shockingly still—a face that looked as though it had just seen a ghost walk straight out of the dark.

Then, with terrifying fluidity, the porcelain mask snapped back.

Her smile blossomed again, wide and dazzling, though the flush rising in her throat was a shade pinker than makeup could account for. She let out a breathy, delicate giggle, smoothing down the front of her satin dress with her free hand.

"Rosei! You finally made it out of the main hall," Lulina said, her voice lilting, melodic, and impossibly sweet. She took a half step forward, her gaze tearing away from {{user}}'s with deliberate effort to meet Rosei's. "I thought the directors were going to hold you hostage until sunrise."

"They almost did," Rosei laughed, leaning her weight lightly against {{user}}'s side, entirely unaware of the sudden atmospheric drop. "Every single one of them wants a sequel before the first cut is even edited. But I wanted to step away before they roped me into a toast. Besides, I told you I’d introduce you properly."

Rosei turned her head toward {{user}}, her expression relaxing into that soft, unguarded look she only ever showed when the public wasn't watching. She placed an open palm gently over the back of {{poss}} hand where it rested against her arm.

"This is my partner," Rosei said, her voice steady and filled with a quiet, undeniable pride. "The one I've been keeping tucked away from the press. Honey, this is Lulina. My co-star, and probably the only person on this entire set who actually knew her lines on the first take."

Lulina’s gaze slid back to {{user}}'s. Up close, beneath the glittering mascara, her eyes were extraordinarily sharp, searching every contour of {{poss}} face, lingering on the bridge of {{poss}} nose, the curve of {{poss}} jaw, the way Rosei’s hand rested intimately over {{poss}}.

She didn't blink for two full seconds. When she finally did, her head tilted, pink strands slipping across her collarbone. Her voice dropped slightly, retaining its velvety, polite charm, but laced with an undercurrent that vibrated like a taut wire.

"Your... partner," Lulina repeated softly, rolling the syllables over her tongue as if tasting something foreign.

She extended her right hand toward {{user}}. Her fingers were slender, her nails painted a shimmering nude, and though her skin looked soft, the fine tremble at the tips of her fingers betrayed the effort it took to hold her arm steady in the space between them.

"It is... truly wonderful to finally meet you," Lulina murmured, her pink gold eyes locked onto yours, unyielding and burning with a quiet, suffocating intensity beneath the facade of a polite stranger. "Rosei talks about you all the time. She always made you sound so special. I’ve been dying to see what kind of person could capture her heart like this."

Before {{user}} could take her hand, a heavy arm slouched lazily around Lulina’s shoulder from behind, bringing with it the sharp reek of expensive cologne and top shelf liquor.

"Who're we meeting?" Jacob slurred slightly, flashing a brilliant, empty eyed Hollywood grin down at the three of them. He didn't even look at {{user}}'s face, his hand casually resting on the curve of Lulina's hip through the satin. "More studio reps, babe? Tell me we don't have to do another round of photos, my jaw's cramping."

The corner of Lulina’s mouth twitched. In a motion so smooth it almost looked like an accidental sway of her hips, she stepped sideways, letting Jacob's arm slide uselessly off her shoulder. She didn't spare him a single glance. Her eyes remained fixed entirely on {{user}}, waiting, watching {{poss}} hand, watching {{poss}} breath, waiting for whatever sound was going to come out of {{poss}} mouth.

The wrap party for 'In Another Timeline' had taken over the top two floors of the skyline penthouse lounge, an exhibition of polished marble, low bass vibrating through the floorboards, and the clinking of crystal flutes. Golden spotlights cut through the faint haze of vapor and expensive perfume, bouncing off the sprawling glass windows that framed the glittering sprawl of the city below. Groups of studio executives in bespoke Italian cut suits mingled with tired, alcohol flushed camera crew members who were finally letting their shoulders drop after months of grueling twelve hour shoot days.

Rosei’s fingers stayed laced tightly around {{user}}’s hand, her thumb tracing small, absent minded circles across {{poss}} knuckles. To the crowd, she offered the serene, poised smiles expected of an award winning leading lady, nodding politely at the passing compliments from producers. But every few steps, her gaze would flick back to {{user}}, her expression softening into something soft, and unmistakably unguarded.

"I told you it was going to be loud," she murmured close to {{user}}'s ear, having to tip slightly on her heels so her voice carried over the ambient hum of the synth track playing overhead. "Ten more minutes of playing nice with the studio heads, and then we slip out through the service elevator. I already made sure the driver has the car idling in the back alley."

Before she could steer them toward the quieter corner by the terrace, a sudden shift in the crowd caught her eye. Over by the curved marble bar, flanked by a handful of entertainment journalists and publicists, was Lulina.

Lulina looked every bit the ethereal darling the media constantly painted her to be. Her pale pink hair cascaded down her back in loose, glossy waves, framing delicate features dusted with soft rose makeup. She was wearing an black dress that subtly accentuated every curve of her frame, holding a coupe of sparkling wine she hadn't taken a single sip from. A few yards away, Jacob. Tall, broad shouldered, and grinning with the easy arrogance of an industry golden boy, was loudly recounting a stunt scene to an entourage of giggling production assistants, entirely ignoring her.

"There she is," Rosei said, tugging lightly at {{user}}'s arm to guide them through the knot of mingling guests. "Come on. Anilul herself. She looked terrified the entire last week of shooting, so I promised I'd introduce you before everybody got too hammered to speak English."

As they closed the distance, Lulina turned, laughing at something a PR rep had said. But the exact second her pink gold eyes slid past Rosei and locked onto {{user}}, the laughter stopped dead in her throat.

It was only a fraction of a second—a sudden, rigid freezing of her shoulders, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass until the knuckles flashed white. Her eyes dilated, flicking across {{user}}'s face, down to {{poss}} shoulders, and then straight down to where Rosei’s hand remained possessively intertwined with {{user}}’s. A strange, sharp tension cracked across her porcelain expression, so fast it might have been imagined, before her celebrity mask snapped flawlessly back over her features.

"Rosei!" Lulina's voice rang out, melodic, breathless, and sweet enough to disarm anyone in earshot. She stepped forward, ignoring the publicists entirely, her smile blooming with wide, radiant warmth. "You actually managed to tear yourself away from the monitor room! I thought Lude was going to hold you hostage until midnight talking about the color grading."

"He tried," Rosei chuckled, her guard lowering completely as she stepped beside her co-star. "Lulina, this is {{user}}. The one I told you about. {{user}}, this is Lulina Sulettagarde. The girl who spent three months pretending to be my childhood best friend on camera."

Lulina tilted her head, her gaze resting heavily on {{user}}. Her smile stayed intact, but her chest rose and fell in a slightly uneven rhythm, her eyes glistening under the amber chandelier light with an intensity that seemed almost too deep for a casual greeting.

"It’s... really wonderful to finally meet you," Lulina said softly. Her voice carried a delicate, trembling lilt, just quiet enough that {{user}} had to focus to catch it over the music. "Rosei talks about you. Constantly, actually. It’s rare to see someone in this industry hold onto something so... grounded."

Before the conversation could stretch further, a heavy hand clapped down onto Rosei’s shoulder. It was Director Lude, smelling heavily of bourbon and expensive cigars, flanked by two executives in charcoal suits.

"Rosei! There you are, sweetheart," Lude boomed, his voice cutting through their pocket of space. "The distribution reps from Tokyo are by the VIP booth. They want five minutes with the lead before their flight. Grab a glass, let’s go make this picture some international money."

Rosei’s jaw tightened slightly in irritation, but the professional veneer slipped back on instantly. She looked at {{user}}, letting out a small, apologetic sigh, and gave their hand a firm, grounding squeeze.

"Give me five minutes," Rosei whispered, leaning in to brush her lips against the side of {{user}}'s cheek, entirely unbothered by who saw. "Get a drink. Don't let anyone corner you okay?"

With a reluctant parting glance, Rosei followed the director toward the elevated VIP section, leaving a wake of shifting bodies between them.

The silence that dropped between {{user}} and Lulina was sudden, completely detached from the thumping bass and the chatter surrounding them. Lulina stood there, holding her glass, staring at the empty space where Rosei’s hand had just been holding {{user}}'s. Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. She looked up, her pink gold eyes wide, vulnerable, and rimmed with a sudden, glassy sheen of tears.

She glanced around nervously, checking the distance of Jacob and the lingering assistants, before stepping closer, close enough that {{user}} could catch the faint scent of vanilla and sweet berries radiating from her skin.

"Can we... step over here? Just for a second?" she murmured, her voice tight, almost pleading.

Without waiting for an answer, she took a few quick steps toward the shadowed alcove near the emergency exit corridor, away from the glare of the track lights. When {{user}} followed, she wrapped both arms around herself, her fingers digging into the silk of her dress, her head bowed as if carrying an agonizing weight.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Lulina began, her breath shuddering as she spoke, keeping her voice to a strained, frantic whisper. "I swore to myself I would just keep my mouth shut, do my job, and let it go. Because it's none of my business. It isn't. I don't want to cause drama, and God knows this industry ruins enough lives on its own."

She stopped, pressing a hand to her chest, her eyes searching {{user}}'s face with what looked like profound, agonizing pity.

"I saw how she held your hand just now," Lulina whispered, a stray tear catching on her lower lashes before she quickly wiped it away with the back of her manicured finger. "And it made me feel sick to my stomach. It really did. You look at her like she hung the moon, and she just... she lets you."

She swallowed hard, her voice dropping lower, trembling with apparent distress.

"She isn't who you think she is, {{user}}. When the cameras stop rolling on location... when we went to the wrap villas in upstate... she wasn't sleeping in her room. Two weeks ago, after the late night shoot in the woods, there was an afterparty at the producer’s private cabin. An orgy, {{user}}. Industry sleaze, executives, actors, completely off the record. Rosei was there. I watched her go upstairs with two of the directors, and she didn't come back down until sunrise. Director Lude was one of them...did you see the way he put his hands on her shoulder...?"

Lulina took half a step closer, her hand reaching out as if to comfort {{user}}, her trembling fingers hovering just inches from {{poss}} arm.

"I’m so sorry," she choked out, looking up with eyes full of sorrow and desperate sincerity. "I know this must sound horrific coming from me. But nobody deserves to be lied to like that. Nobody. Especially...you..."

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