Page 3 of You. Me. Us.

Megan gave her a quick nod before hurrying off, no doubt to deliver more of Olivia’s directives. Hillary slumped back in her chair, her gaze flicking between the tiny note and her computer screen.

Fifteen hundred words. A celebrity coffee shop. Three days. She could do this. She had to do this. But not until after she finished the current assignment.

With a deep breath, Hillary refocused on her lifestyle piece. The words flowed more easily now, Marcos’s quotes addingdepth and color to the story. She lost herself in the rhythm of writing. Around her, the clatter of keyboards and murmur of voices fading into the background.

It wasn’t until her stomach growled loudly that she glanced at the clock. Nearly three. She’d worked straight through lunch, fueled by adrenaline and the fear of missing her deadline.

Hillary quickly saved her work and pushed back from her desk. She needed food, and she needed it now. Maybe she could grab something quick and brainstorm ideas for the coffee shop piece while she ate.

As she hurried toward the elevators, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this new assignment was more than just another story. It was an opportunity, a chance to prove herself to Olivia and everyone else at Muse.

“Star Coffee,” she murmured under her breath, stepping into the elevator. The name itself was a hook, intriguing and a little edgy. She could work with that.

The doors slid closed, and Hillary leaned against the wall, her mind already spinning with possibilities. Celebrity baristas, unique blends, the story behind the name—there were so many angles to explore.

A small smile played at her lips as the elevator descended. This was why she’d become a journalist. For the thrill of the chase, the rush of uncovering something new and interesting.

The makeup brush swept across Julius’s cheekbone with a feather-light touch. Years ago, it would have elicited a small snicker as it tickled over his skin, now he scarcely noticed it. Closing his eyes, he allowed the rhythmic strokes to lull him into a meditative state amidst the craziness of the sound stage. Stylists and makeup artists moved around him in achoreographed dance, each playing their part in transforming him into the fantasy hero he’d played for the last five years.

“Just a few more minutes, Mr. Theon,” Brandy, assured him, her voice barely audible above the hum of hairdryers and chatter, but her hand steady with the brush.

Julius nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He loved this part of the process—the anticipation, the energy, the knowledge that he would soon bring a beloved character to life. It was why he wanted to act in the first place. To bring people something more than the depression of working and struggling the way so many were forced to live check to check with deadlines and anxiety.

“You just let me know when I can take a sip of that coffee and that’s all I need.” He opened his eyes to give a quick wink and realized they were about to not be alone in his makeup chair.

His agent, Louisa, approached with a tablet in hand, her heels clicking against the polished floor. “Julius, I wanted to discuss your appearance at the convention next weekend.”

“Of course,” Julius replied, opening his eyes to meet her gaze. “I’m really looking forward to it. It’s always incredible to connect with the fans who make all of this possible. Same as today.”

New York City Comic Con was the second most important event for someone in his industry. Being there was essential to keeping himself on top, but also to connect with fans. He knew that without them, there would be no Julius Theon. And not just because his birth name was Justin Thatcher.

Louisa smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “They adore you, Julius. The convention organizers have been inundated with requests for your panel and autograph sessions, don’t worry about your future. I just want to make sure you won’t give anything crazy away...again.”

A happy sort of warmth spread through his chest. He never took his success for granted, and the idea of meeting the peoplewho supported him filled him with genuine excitement. He may have gotten into the bad habit of giving things away they could make money off of, but he’d never see that as a problem.

“I can’t wait to see them,” he said, his voice earnest. “These characters, these stories... they mean so much to so many people. To be a part of that, to bring a little of magic into their lives—it’s an honor.” She glared at him, so he quickly added, “I promise not to give away anything that could retail for over five hundred dollars. Happy?”

Louisa nodded, her expression softening. “You have a true gift, Julius. Not just on screen, but in the way you connect with others. It’s rare in this industry for it to be real, not forced.”

Julius chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just grateful to be here, doing what I love.”

He closed his eyes again when she walked away to let Brandy finish her final touches. In his mind’s eye, he could see the faces of the fans he would soon meet—their smiles, their excitement, their stories. One could say it distracted him from running lines in his mind to ensure he didn’t miss a beat, but he didn’t see it that way.

He couldn’t wait to be a part of that magic, to make people feel seen and valued, even if only for a moment. That connection, he realized, was what truly mattered. It was the reason he poured his heart and soul into every role, every interaction.

With a final brush of powder, he knew Brandy shifted back from the slight movement of air over his bare chest. “You’re all set, Mr. Theon.”

As Julius slowly opened his eyes, he was met with the image of a fierce fae warrior staring back at him in the mirror. Short, dark hair was replaced with a long pale-white wig that hung past his shoulders. Intricate markings meant to be runic designs were set on his skin with a black and gold ink, and his chest was bare, allowing the magic of those runes to work as perthe screenwriter. Slightly pointed ears poked between strands of the pale wig, but otherwise there weren’t many signs he wasn’t human. Nor were there many signs he was himself. But as he looked closer, he saw the determination in his own eyes and knew he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

The man staring back at him was ready to take on the world, one fan at a time.

“Do I look ready to do a quick meet and greet to fix the PR oops from last week?”

Brandy set her hands on her hips as she clucked her tongue at him. “Are you insinuating my work is not perfect?”

Laughing, he dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Perfect as always.”

“Then get going, go meet fans and answer some questions.”

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