Page 10 of Falling Off Script

He chuckles. Steps closer. “Good. Would’ve been disappointed if you went soft on me.”

I’m not sure if that’s a flirt or a jab orboth. Probably both.

We make small talk. Someone hands me a drink I didn’t ask for. Adrian leans against the high-top like he’s posing for a lifestyle blog. His questions are curious, personal, and too smooth.

"How long have you been coaching?" turns into "What made you want to fix people?" turns into "Do you ever let anyone see past the brand?"

At some point, someone with a camera circles by—probably a social media manager with delusions of TMZ. As if on cue, Adrian shifts closer. Not too much. Just enough that when the shutter clicks, his hand casually touches the small of my back.

I stiffen. He smiles like it’s nothing. Like we’re just two charming professionals sharing a moment of collegial chemistry.

But then it happens again.

Different angle. Different glass in his hand. Same subtle touch. Same flash of his teeth. I swear I see him glance at the photographer before he leans in and murmurs something low enough that it won’t be captured—just implied.

That’s when the alarms start going off in my head.

He’s not flirting. He’s documenting.

I sip my drink. Keep my body angled slightly away. Every answer I give is a half-truth wrapped in a smile. Because I know what he’s doing.

The cameras might buy it. I don’t.

***

Later that night, I call Jessie.

She answers on the third ring with a groan and a “Do you know what time it is?”

“According to Instagram? Time to ship me with a man I verbally dismantled on national livestream.”

A beat of silence.

“Okay,” she says. “That’s fair. Proceed.”

I flop backward on my bed, phone balanced to my ear. “They’re making edits, Jessie. Slow zooms. One’s set to a sepia filter and an acoustic Beyoncé cover. This is not good for me.”

“Emily, it’s amazing for you. You doubled your following. Your podcast is trending. People are stitching you, quoting you, even thirsting over you a little. That one girl with the shaved head called you ‘the feminist Loki.’”

“That’s not the win you think it is,” I mutter, but fine—I’ve saved that video.

“This is literally the best thing that’s ever happened to your platform. Controversy drives traffic. He gave you a gift.”

“A gift? Jessie. He manipulated the panel. He touched my back mid-photo op—”

“Of course he did.”

“—and angled his whole body toward me like we were in a shampoo commercial. Do you know how many frame-by-frame breakdowns there are of that?”

I nearly slam my phone screen-down on the table.

“Yeah,” she says. “Some of them are... honestly kind of romantic.”

I make a sound that can only be described as a full-body eye-roll. “I was trying to dismantle a system and he was live-producing a shipping montage.”

Jessie grins. “Well, mission accomplished. Because now you’re both trending. Joint virality. That’s rare.”

“I don’t want to be co-packaged with him like we’re some nightmare his-and-hers brand.”

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