Page 36 of Rockstar's Fake Engagement

Lacey doesn’t know I’m here. Rachel and Emily orchestrated this whole thing, clearing my schedule so I could fly in from Denver, where we had just finished our performance. The Wild Band hasn’t played a show without me since we started, but the guys insisted I make this premiere the minute we finished the encore.

The fans’ screaming intensifies, and I turn just as another SUV pulls up. My breath catches as Lacey emerges, wearing a flowing midnight blue gown that makes her eyes pop even from this distance. Her hair cascades over one shoulder in elegant waves, and she’s literally glowing under the premiere lights.

She hasn’t seen me yet, busy greeting fans and signing autographs. Her co-star, Jake Morrison, helps her navigate the crowd. He’s exactly what you’d expect from Hollywood’s latest action hero—tall, ruggedly handsome, with that perfect jawline they all seem to have. His wife, Rebecca, a well-known TV actress herself, holds his other hand.

I wait until Lacey turns toward the red carpet before moving into her line of sight. The moment she spots me, her professionalsmile transforms into something real and radiant. Her steps quicken, and she gives a brilliant smile as I step forward to wrap my arms around her.

“You’re here!” She pulls back, eyes shining.

“I didn’t want to miss this.” I brush a kiss against her temple, mindful of the cameras. “You look beautiful.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And miss that reaction? Never.” Then, in a lower voice, for her ears only, “Rachel thought this would play better if you were authentically surprised.”

Jake and Rebecca catch up to us, and Jake extends his hand. “So this is the famous Nate Stone. Lacey’s told us about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” We shake hands, and I notice several cameras capturing the moment.

“The best,” Rebecca chimes in, linking arms with her husband. “Though she failed to mention how handsome you are in person.”

Lacey laughs, tucking herself against my side. “Back off, Rebecca. This one’s taken.”

The four of us pose for photos, and I’m struck by how natural this feels. Two weeks ago, I would have been uncomfortable withall this Hollywood glamour, but with Lacey beside me, it’s not that bad.

Inside the theater, we’re led to prime seats. The energy is electric as the lights dim and the movie begins. I’ve heard bits about ‘The Oasis’ from Lacey—it’s an action-adventure about a family discovering a hidden world in their grandmother’s garden—but nothing prepared me for seeing her on the big screen.

Soon, I’m pulled into the story. Watching Lacey on-screen is mesmerizing. She’s magnetic, completely captivating the audience, and I’m no exception. Every emotion she portrays feels authentic, and every line is delivered flawlessly. It’s clear she was born for this.

Even in scenes with Jake, who’s arguably the bigger star, my eyes are drawn to her.

She plays her role with such warmth and charisma that I forget I’m watching from within a crowded theater. When she’s running through the forest in the next scene, I squeeze her hand, remembering everything she told me about the plot.

The audience responds exactly as they should—gasping at the reveals, laughing at the jokes, and sniffling during the emotional moments. By the time the credits roll, the applause is thunderous.

“Lacey, that was incredible,” I state as the lights come up.

She bites her lip, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to have directors begging you for roles.”

Before she can respond, people start flooding over to congratulate her and Jake. All of them raving about the film. I step back, letting her have her moment, content to watch her shine.

Rachel appears. “The reviews are already coming in. They’re calling it the sleeper hit of the year.”

“Of course they are.” I can’t keep the pride from my voice. “It was a great movie. Lacey’s very talented.”

Lacey catches my eye over the crowd and smiles, making my chest tighten. Then, someone mentions the after-party, and everyone starts moving toward the exit. Jake’s wife sidles up to me with a knowing smile.

“Ready for round two? The after-parties are where the real fun happens.”

The after-party venue is pure Hollywood excess—a ballroom with sweeping views of the city, strings of lights creating a magical atmosphere overhead. A live band plays soft jazz, and waiters weave through the crowd with endless trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

We’re escorted to our table, and Lacey practically glides across the floor; she’s been floating on air since the movie premiered, and her joy is contagious.

After we’re seated, I lean in. “You know, watching you up there on that screen... it was something else.”

She ducks her head, suddenly shy. “Thank you, Nate.”

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