A headline was trending at #1 on X (formerly Twitter): [Is Quentin Stone strictly platonic?] The top comment read: [Don't make Quentin laugh, please.] Attached was a photo of him looking at his co-star, Natalie Quay. His gaze was predatory, intense, and anything but platonic. Even I got dragged into it. A reporter shoved a mic in my face: "As the lead in Quentin's very first drama, do you think he’s a platonic kind of guy?" I froze for a second, then gave a vague, safe answer: "I guess... He's a nice guy, very respectful to his colleagues." Because of that, his fans tore me apart. Thousands of comments called me a "washed-up has-been" chasing clout, accusing me of being jealous of his current romance. Later, on a reality TV show, the question came up again. I gave my perfect, PR-approved answer: "As for him? I really wouldn't know." Quentin, sitting across the room, slowly lifted his heavy eyelids. "Whether I'm platonic or not... you don't know?" 1. #IsQuentinStonePlatonic skyrocketed up the trending list. The comments were unanimous: [Don't make our boy laugh.] [Stop spreading clean rumors about Quentin, okay?] [Quentin: What position is 'Platonic'?] [He looks like the type who wouldn't stop even if you begged.] [Spoiler: He definitely doesn't stop.] My agent clicked off the trending page with a blank expression and slid the tablet toward me. I paused, then slowly scrolled down. [I’m done. The way Quentin looks at Natalie? He wants to devour her. And someone said he’s platonic???] [Some washed-up Z-lister is just jealous...] [Maya is so messy. Yeah, she was the lead in his first show when he was nineteen, and I used to ship them. But now? She looks like she swallowed a lemon.] [That was then. Look at Quentin’s status now. He’s an A-lister.] [Miss Maya is going to be on the same variety show as my ship 'Quen-Nat'. I’m begging her not to ruin the vibe...] [Impossible. She’s definitely going to throw herself at him to hype up some old news.] "You have two paths right now," my agent said, her face grim. "Embrace the villain edit and go for the 'all press is good press' route. Or, tuck your tail between your legs in front of Quentin and Natalie, and minimize your existence." I gave a low hum of acknowledgment. My agent gritted her teeth. "Did you leave your brain at home when you answered that reporter?" I sighed. "What was I supposed to say? That Quentin is definitely not platonic?" She rolled her eyes. "You could have just said 'no comment' or 'I don't know'!" I froze. Right. It was precisely because I knew too well that the neutral answers didn't even cross my mind. I instinctively chose to lie. "Forget it," she waved her hand. "Blame the reporters for baiting you for clicks." Since he was nineteen, Quentin’s career had been a straight shot to the stratosphere. He was Hollywood royalty now. But whenever people discussed his love life, I got dragged out of the grave. Because every other leading lady he worked with had a pleasant, professional relationship with him. Except me. I was the first. And when we ended, it was a hurricane. We tore each other apart with zero regard for old times. As time passed, even the hatred faded. We became strangers with no emotional ripples. Until recently. Quentin and Natalie’s new movie hit theaters. They weren't playing a couple, but their chemistry was electric. They were enemies-to-lovers gold. It attracted a massive fanbase. To promote their upcoming TV drama, they signed up for a reality show called The Villa. Coincidentally, the show invited me too. 2. Inside the massive Beverly Hills rental. I sat quietly in the corner. Until Quentin and Natalie made their grand entrance together, the finale act. Everyone stood up to greet them. I stood up too, but I kept my mouth shut. Natalie walked straight up to me, extending a hand with a smile. "You must be Maya Wells, right? I've heard so much about you." The atmosphere turned weird instantly. I smiled back. "Hi." Quentin glanced in my direction—careless, indifferent—then sat down diagonally across from me. He didn't say hi. I didn't say hi. Natalie nodded, then turned and sat right next to Quentin. I remembered my agent's warning. Do not look at Quentin. If I did, I'd just be a prop in their love story, and the audience would roast me for being jealous. Another actress, Lauren, who was close with Natalie, smiled and asked me: "By the way, Maya, do you have any representative works lately?" Representative works? I had just wrapped an indie project, but it hadn't aired yet. Besides that... Seven years ago, the web series Quentin and I did exploded out of nowhere. The view counts were insane. Even after a seven-year gap where I wasn't acting in the States, people still knew my name. "No," I said calmly. Silence filled the room. I felt a heavy gaze land on me. I smiled and repeated, "I have a new show airing later this year, but before that? Nothing recently." I knew better than to mention Quentin or that show. I’d just be accused of clout chasing again. Natalie instinctively glanced at Quentin. Seeing no reaction, she smiled brightly. "We'll definitely support it when it airs." "Thanks so much," I said politely. Natalie didn't say more, turning to whisper something to Quentin. The other guests all wore faces that said, OMG, I ship them so hard. The cameras were glued to them. I let out a breath and quietly observed them. Seven years. Quentin hadn't changed much physically, just looked sharper, more mature. But he still had that air of nonchalance. When he wasn't smiling, his eyes held a distinct aggression. Like right now. I could tell instantly—he was in a terrible mood. But whatever Natalie whispered made his expression soften. There was a reason Natalie was called "Quentin's Perfect Co-star." A beautiful, gentle sweetheart. She really did look good with him. I looked away. 3. Before filming the second episode, I checked the comments from the first week. [I’m done. Is Maya playing hard to get? Who doesn't know she did that show with Quentin years ago?] [Trying to get his attention, obviously~] [Actually, nobody cares about her.] [LMAO, Maya tried to create a moment, but did you see Quentin’s glare? He looked disgusted and annoyed.] [Brother Quentin probably knew his sweet variety show date was going to be ruined the moment he saw her.] [Only our kind angel Natalie would bother talking to her.] ...Miscalculation. How am I still getting roasted?! I was invited by the director! For the ratings! For the paycheck! I didn't come here to break up their happy home! Seeing my face drop, Natalie walked over to me. Her tone was soft, but her words were blunt. "Since you quit the industry, why come back? Why not stay gone?" Only she and I could hear the volume. I paused, feeling the hostility. "I have no intention of stealing Quentin from you," I said sincerely. "My relationship with him is terrible." Her smile faded slightly, her almond eyes staring straight at me. "Steal?" She parted her lips gently. "You really think highly of yourself." She turned and walked away. I watched her leave, only to lock eyes with Quentin, who wasn't far off. He didn't look away. His dark eyes swept over me. Cold. Detached. Only when Natalie spoke to him did he finally withdraw his gaze. I lowered my eyes. ... Today's theme: Cozy Villa Night – Truth or Dare. I had a bad feeling about this. The game started. Natalie lost several times. She was mostly asked about her first impressions of Quentin, funny stories from their set—easy, ship-building questions. I started to relax. Looks like I’m safe. Until Quentin lost. An actor laughed. "Truth or Dare?" "Dare," Quentin said flatly. The room erupted. He was the first person to pick Dare. The actor didn't ask a question but drew a card from the deck. [Stare into the eyes of a member of the opposite sex for 10 seconds.] Everyone cheered and laughed. I laughed along with them. I was laughing right up until I realized Quentin was looking at me. Me: "......?" His brow lifted slightly, his gaze landing on my face like a feather that weighed a ton. I froze. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn't reach his eyes. Just as his lips parted to speak. I immediately stood up. "Sorry, stomach cramp. Bathroom run." I walked out fast. I knew Quentin wouldn't actually pick me. But for a second, my heart skipped a beat. I instinctively fled. I stayed away for ten minutes. By the time I returned, they’d played several rounds. Quentin and Natalie must have done the stare. I exhaled. Unexpectedly, I lost the very next round. I decisively picked Truth. If I picked Dare and got something weird, I was doomed. The next second. Lauren, Natalie's bestie, asked: "Maya, I saw your interview earlier where you said Quentin was 'Platonic.' Why did you say that?" She asked it with such innocent curiosity. I stiffened. She was dragging up the thing I got roasted for, putting me on the spot to embarrass me again. I was silent for a moment, then shook my head. "I didn't hear the question clearly that day. I answered too carelessly." But she wasn't letting me off the hook. "Well, you hear it clearly now. What do you think?" No one saved me. Even the directors nearby were waiting for my answer. They wanted high engagement ratings. I paused for a long time, then pasted on a smile. My answer was objective and distant. "As for him? I really wouldn't know." She scoffed, clearly unsatisfied. The other guests looked slightly disappointed at the lack of drama. Natalie kept a polite smile on her face, saying nothing. Just as I sighed in relief, thinking it was over. Quentin slowly lifted his eyelids. "Whether I am platonic or not... you don't know?" I froze instantly. The room was so quiet you could hear everyone breathing. I moved my lips. Nothing came out. Quentin leaned back against the sofa, tilting his chin up to lock eyes with me. His voice was cold as ice. "Maya, you don't know?" Did I know? Of course I knew. The boy who tasted forbidden fruit didn't know how to stop at just a taste. After we turned eighteen, Quentin would keep me up all night, tireless. In the heat of the moment, he would hold me tight, his voice husky: "Maya, I love you... I love you so much." I wasn't good with words, so I’d just stretch my neck, dizzily pressing my lips to his. We were too young then. We had nothing. We couldn't even see tomorrow clearly, yet we made countless promises never to leave each other. So when the vows broke, only cruelty and embarrassment remained. But right here, right now. My past with Quentin—that hate, that love—should I know it? I was here only as a foil for him and Natalie. I just needed to play the pale, villainous extra in their story, observing their happiness. That was all. I looked at Quentin quietly and didn't speak. Natalie gently tugged his sleeve. "We're filming. Even if you're angry, don't show it now." Quentin didn't move. His eyes were nailed to me. It seemed he wouldn't stop until I gave an answer. The temperature in the villa plummeted. Even the director wiped sweat from his forehead, confused by the vibe. Finally, I spoke, articulating every word. "I. Don't. Know." The light in Quentin's eyes went dark instantly. I continued, "Mr. Stone, our past conflicts are in the past. I hope to finish filming this variety show smoothly with you and everyone else. And I hope you won't make things hard for me... because of the past." I whispered the last few words. Quentin pulled his lips into a cold, thin smile. The shadow across his brow threatened to consume everything. "Make things hard for you?" He slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked past me with utter indifference. "Are you even worthy of me making things hard for you?" He stood up and left. Everyone else stared, stunned. Finally, Natalie bit her lip and followed him. Filming was paused. 4. I was ready to be fired by the production team. Quentin hated my guts. If he asked for me to be cut, the showrunners would agree in a heartbeat, ratings be damned. But surprisingly, I stayed. The night before the reshoots for episode two, everyone was in the villa. Natalie knocked on my door. She closed it, crossed her arms, and leaned against the wall, eyeing me. "We've talked to the directors. That part will be cut. Don't dream of using it to boost your fame." "I didn't think that," I said. How could they think getting humiliated is a career boost? I'd be lucky not to be bullied off the internet. Natalie sneered. "I really want to know what you did to make him hate you this much." Before I could speak, she continued. "Since you left back then, why reappear in front of him? Because you're failing now and want to get something out of him. Right?" I frowned. "If you came here just to say this, you can leave." "Stay away from him." Natalie looked at me with disgust. "I finally got him in a good mood. Don't make him unhappy the second he sees you." I stayed silent. Did she think I was happy seeing him? Before leaving, she looked down at me and dropped one last line: "When Quentin was with me, he was never this unhappy." She turned and left. I rubbed my forehead. Why so much drama? But hearing her words, I felt a pang of irony. Quentin once said he only felt happy when he was with me. That only around me could he smile. Times really have changed. I locked the door, lay on the bed, and stretched. Then I texted my agent: [Ann, I'm following orders~ A few hiccups, but it's all Quentin acting crazy.] She replied quickly: [Okay. What did he do?] Me: [Hard to explain. He just hates the sight of me. Feels like he wants to skin me alive just for existing.] My agent paused for a few minutes before replying: [Really? I've been in this industry for years. I've never heard of Quentin hating anyone this much. You're the first. And the only one.] ...Should I thank him for the honor? I closed the chat and scrolled through my feed. I saw a post from an actor I knew: [Thanks to Quentin for treating the whole crew to dinner! Working with Quentin and Natalie was a delight. Great chemistry. Hope to work together again!] The photo showed a dozen people at a restaurant. Quentin and Natalie stood in the center, very close. Natalie was smiling brightly, eyes curved into crescents. She was right. Quentin looked much more relaxed beside her. I turned off my phone.
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