Under The Spotlight
Echoes of Silence and Two Lines
The digital world was a relentless tide, and Chloe was drowning in it. It had been three weeks since the concert—three weeks since Felix had leaned into the microphone, his deep, honeyed voice echoing through the stadium as he pointed her out in the VIP section. He had meant it as a tribute, a public declaration of the love he usually had to hide, but the aftermath had been a whirlwind she wasn't prepared for.
Every time she opened her phone, there she was. "Felix’s Mystery Girl," "The Muse," "The Luckiest Girl in the World." Fans had dissected her outfit, her hair, even the way she bit her lip when she was nervous. But as the days passed, the admiration had taken a sharper turn. Men on social media were starting to comment on her posts, calling her "ethereal" and "a goddess," wondering aloud why she was with a busy idol when she could have someone who was always home.
Chloe sat on the edge of their oversized bed, the glow of her phone screen illuminating her pale face. She scrolled through a thread of photos someone had taken of her at a cafe yesterday. The comments were a mix of heart-eyes and possessive claims from strangers.
"You look far too serious for someone who just had a viral moment."
Felix’s voice was low, vibrating through the quiet of the penthouse. He was leaning against the doorframe, his blonde hair damp from a shower, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. In the soft light, he looked every bit the superstar, but his eyes were fixed on her with an intensity that made her stomach flip.
"It’s just... a lot, Lix," Chloe whispered, setting the phone down face-first. "I didn't ask for everyone to have an opinion on my face."
Felix walked over, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. He sat down beside her, his warmth radiating against her side. He picked up her phone, flipping it over. Before she could stop him, he was scrolling through the latest comments. A smirk played on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Look at this one," Felix said, his voice dropping an octave as he read aloud. "'She has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Felix is lucky she hasn't realized she can do better.' Wow. Bold."
"Felix, don't," Chloe sighed, reaching for the phone, but he held it just out of reach.
"And this one," he continued, his thumb hovering over the screen. "'I’d treat her like a queen every single day.' It seems I have a lot of competition now, don't I? My sweet, shy Chloe is the internet’s new obsession."
He was teasing her, his tone light and playful, but Chloe could feel the tension radiating off him. Felix was usually the most secure person she knew, but the sudden, global spotlight on his private sanctuary—her—was clearly rubbing him the wrong way.
"You know I don't care about them," she said softly, turning to face him. "They don't know me. You do."
Felix dropped the phone onto the duvet and turned to her, his expression shifting from playful to something much darker, much more possessive. He reached out, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb tracing the line of her lower lip.
"I know," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her mouth. "But I don't like the way they look at you. I don't like the way they talk about you as if you’re something they could just... take. You’re mine, Chloe. I should have kept you hidden."
"You were the one who pointed me out to thirty thousand people," she reminded him, her voice trembling slightly as he leaned closer.
"I was proud," he admitted, his breath warm against her skin. "I wanted them to know who I belong to. But I think I need to remind you who you belong to, too."
The bickering died away, replaced by a heavy, magnetic pull. When Felix kissed her, it wasn't his usual gentle, sweet affection. It was demanding, a silent claim laid over every inch of her. That night, and every night that followed for the next two weeks, the penthouse became a fortress. Felix was insatiable, his usual gentleness replaced by a fierce, protective passion that left Chloe breathless and reeling. It was as if he were trying to brand her, to ensure that no matter how many millions of people saw her face, she would only ever feel him.
***
A month later, the buzz online had started to simmer down, but the atmosphere inside the penthouse had changed.
Chloe stood in the kitchen, the smell of the coffee Felix had brewed making her stomach do a violent somersault. She gripped the edge of the marble counter, waiting for the wave of nausea to pass. She had been feeling off for a week—tired, emotional, and strangely sensitive to smells.
She glanced at the calendar on the fridge. Her heart stuttered.
"No," she whispered to herself. "It’s just stress. The internet, the move, the... everything."
She did the math again. She was two weeks late. And looking back, she realized she had missed the previous month’s cycle, too. Amidst the chaos of the concert aftermath and Felix’s sudden, intense need for proximity, she had completely lost track of time.
Felix came into the kitchen, humming a melody under his breath. He looked rejuvenated, his skin glowing, the possessive edge of the previous weeks having softened back into his usual easygoing warmth. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
"Morning, beautiful," he mumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep. "You didn't drink your coffee. Is it cold? I can make you another one."
Chloe stiffened in his arms, her mind racing. "I’m fine, Lix. Just... a little headache."
He pulled back, turning her around to face him. His brow furrowed in instant concern, his hand moving to her forehead to check for a fever. "You’ve been pale lately. And you’re not eating much. Maybe we should see a doctor? I can call the private clinic."
"No!" she said, a bit too quickly. "I mean, no, it’s just the stress. I’ll be fine."
Felix looked at her, his dark eyes searching hers. He was too observant, too attuned to her moods. He lingered for a moment, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip, before he nodded slowly. "Okay. But if you don't feel better by tonight, I’m making the executive decision."
As soon as he left for the studio an hour later, Chloe grabbed her coat and a pair of sunglasses. She walked to a pharmacy three blocks away, one where she hoped the oversized hood of her sweatshirt would keep her unrecognized. She bought three different brands of tests, her hands shaking as she paid.
Back at the penthouse, the silence felt heavy. She sat in the bathroom, the three plastic sticks lined up on the counter. The wait felt like an eternity. She stared at the tiles, her mind replaying the last few weeks. Felix’s protective streak, the way he had held her every night, the intensity of their connection.
When the timer on her phone finally buzzed, she almost didn't want to look.
She stood up, her legs feeling like lead. She walked over to the counter and looked down.
Two lines. On all three.
Chloe sank onto the floor, her back against the cool tiles. A sob escaped her throat—not of sadness, but of sheer, overwhelming shock. They were young. He was at the height of his career. The world had just discovered her, and now, their lives were about to change in a way that no internet trend could ever match.
She didn't know how long she sat there, but the sound of the front door electronic lock clicking open startled her.
"Chloe? I’m home early!" Felix’s voice echoed through the hallway, sounding bright and cheerful. "I brought that takeout you liked from the place across town."
She scrambled to her feet, frantically trying to sweep the tests into a drawer, but her clumsy fingers knocked one of them onto the floor. It skittered across the marble, landing right by the door.
The bathroom door pushed open. Felix stood there, still wearing his leather jacket, a smile on his face that slowly faded as he saw her tear-streaked face.
"Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?" He stepped inside, dropping his keys on the counter. He reached for her, but stopped mid-stride when his foot brushed against something.
He looked down.
Chloe held her breath, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Felix picked up the small plastic stick. He stared at it for a long time, his thumb brushing over the two pink lines. The silence in the room was deafening. Chloe waited for the panic, for the realization of what this would do to his career, for the fear.
Instead, Felix looked up, and his eyes were swimming with tears. A slow, shaky breath escaped him.
"Chloe," he breathed, his voice cracking.
"Felix, I'm so sorry, I know the timing is—"
He cut her off by pulling her into his arms, his grip so tight it was almost suffocating, but she didn't care. He buried his face in her hair, and she could feel him shaking.
"Don't be sorry," he whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't ever be sorry."
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands cupping her face with a reverence she had never felt before. The jealousy, the possessiveness of the weeks prior—it all seemed to melt away, replaced by a profound, terrifyingly beautiful sense of purpose.
"I was so worried about people looking at you," Felix said, a small, tearful laugh escaping him. "I was so busy trying to show the world you belonged to me. But this..." He looked down at her stomach, his hand trembling as he lowered it to rest flat against her sweatshirt. "This is ours. Just ours."
Chloe leaned her forehead against his, her own tears finally falling freely. "What are we going to do, Lix? The fans, the company..."
Felix kissed her forehead, his gaze fierce and unwavering. "We’re going to be a family. I don't care about the rest of it. Let them talk. Let them take all the photos they want. They can't touch this."
He picked her up, spinning her around once before holding her close again. In the quiet of their penthouse, far above the city lights and the prying eyes of the internet, the world felt small again. The noise of the crowd, the flashing cameras, and the viral comments faded into the background, leaving only the two of them and the new life that had begun in the midst of the storm.
Felix pulled back to look at her one more time, a mischievous, gentle glint returning to his eyes. "Though, I suppose I should probably stop teasing you about your internet fans now. I think I’ve officially won the competition."
Chloe laughed through her tears, hitting his chest lightly. "You are unbelievable, Felix Lee."
"I'm a dad," he corrected, the word sounding experimental and wondrous on his tongue. He beamed, a radiant, genuine smile that outshone any stage light. "I'm going to be a dad."
As they sat together on the bathroom floor, leaning against each other, the future felt daunting, but for the first time in weeks, Chloe wasn't afraid of the spotlight. Because no matter how bright the lights got, she knew Felix would be the one standing right in front of her, shielding her from the glare.