Page 28 of Discover Me
"What do you mean leaked?" I grab a few more tomatoes, some basil, and an onion.
"Everyone is out for themselves in this business." Kellan's voice drops lower, aware of the people around us. "When people found out they were shopping for me, they would post my orders online. Screenshots of the shopping lists, photos of the delivery person at my door. I'd either get ridiculed for what I bought, or people would feel bad for me because of what I didn't order, or they would start fantasizing about what I'd make."
"There's no way they did all of that." I stare at him, sure he's exaggerating.
Kellan snorts. "You'd be surprised what happens when the label makes you into something to obsess over. Every detail of your life becomes content. What you eat, what you wear, whoyou talk to. So I just get my own shit now. At least this way I control what information gets out."
I nod, processing that. The level of invasion he's describing sounds exhausting. No privacy, no anonymity, every action analyzed and discussed by strangers.
We move to the meat section and I'm scanning the options when I ask, "Do you have any allergies or whatever? I don't want to accidentally poison you on our first home-cooked meal."
Giggling interrupts before Kellan can answer. Then the unmistakable sound of a phone camera shutter, several in quick succession. I twist around and see two Omegas standing a few feet away, phones pointed at us, whispering to each other with barely contained excitement.
I just frown and turn back to ask Kellan again, but the question dies in my throat. A small crowd has gathered at the end of the aisle, at least a dozen people pointing and whispering. More phones come out, more cameras pointed in our direction.
I swallow nervously, looking between the growing crowd and Kellan. The market suddenly feels too small, the aisle too narrow. I'm cornered, trapped between shelves of packaged meat and an audience I didn't ask for.
Someone breaks away from the crowd, a young Alpha in a band t-shirt. He approaches with the kind of confidence that suggests he's done this before, that approaching celebrities in public is something normal to him.
"Is that you, Kellan? Oh my god, I can't believe we're here on like your first public appearance with your boyfriend!" The words tumble out rapid-fire, enthusiasm bleeding through every syllable. "Can I get your autograph? My girlfriend will never believe me!"
He shoves a pen and a crumpled receipt at Kellan, bouncing slightly on his feet. More people start moving closer, emboldened by the first fan's approach.
I step back instinctively, my shoulders hitting the shelves behind me. My heart races, ribs protesting each rapid breath. This is too much, too fast. I wasn't prepared for this level of attention.
Kellan goes rigid beside me. His jaw tightens and something shutters in his expression, the easy openness from moments ago replaced by a careful mask. He takes the pen and signs the receipt with quick, practiced movements.
"Excuse me," Kellan says, his voice polite but firm. "We'd like a little privacy."
He reaches back to grab my hand before guiding me out of the aisle, navigating around the growing crowd with the efficiency of someone who's done this countless times. We head straight for self-checkout, scanning our few items as quickly as possible.
More phones follow us. More whispers. I catch fragments of conversation.
"That's definitely him."
"Who's the Beta?"
"The boyfriend from Instagram."
"He's not what I expected."
"Take another picture."
My skin crawls with the attention. Every eye feels like a physical weight, pressing down on me from all directions. Kellan pays and we practically run to the car, his hand never leaving mine until we're both inside with the doors locked.
"I'm so sorry." Kellan's knuckles are white on the steering wheel. "I should have thought that through better. Should have realized that after Tom's post, people would be looking for us."
"It's fine." My voice comes out shakier than I intend. "I just have to brace myself for the next few weeks. Get used to being stared at and photographed."
"But I don't like how uncomfortable that makes you." Kellan pulls out of the parking spot, his movements jerky withagitation. "I don't even know why. No, I do know why but I didn't think I would be this affected by seeing someone make you uncomfortable."
He opens his mouth like he wants to say more, then closes it. We drive in silence for a few minutes, the bags of groceries in the backseat. The city passes by outside the windows, buildings and people and normal life happening around us while I try to calm my racing heart.
Kellan mutters "fuck" under his breath and makes a sudden turn, deviating from what I assume is the route back to his apartment.
I look around, trying to orient myself. We're heading away from the dense urban area, toward what looks like a more residential neighborhood. Then the buildings thin out and I see water ahead, a large lake with a walking path around it. Cute shops line one side, the kind of local businesses that have been there for decades.
"What is this?" I ask as Kellan pulls into a small parking lot overlooking the lake.
