CHAPTER 461: LOVE, AFTER THE LIGHTS FADE (8)

The Next Morning

When Ethan woke, sunlight was already slipping across the bed. He reached for Tara instinctively—empty.

He sat up, blinking, the sheets cool on her side.

Downstairs, Aunt Martha was tidying the kitchen. "Morning," she said, glancing at him. "She left early. Emergency surgery came in before sunrise."

Ethan leaned on the counter, hair still messy from sleep. "Figures. Guess it’s a good thing she didn’t get the day off."

"Oh?" Aunt Martha asked, raising a brow.

"Yeah," he said with a half-smile. "Would’ve felt worse if I had to cancel on her last minute."

"Cancel?"

"I got roped into an awards show tonight," he said, pulling open the fridge. "Manager says I’m walking the red carpet with Samira."

"That actress you worked with?"

"Mhm. Apparently, people online think we’re some epic screen couple." He rolled his eyes. "They should try seeing us fight over a prop chair in rehearsal."

Aunt Martha laughed. "At least you’re getting out of the house."

"Yeah," Ethan muttered, "straight into a crowd of flashing lights."

**

By afternoon, Ethan was at the styling studio, sitting in front of a large mirror surrounded by bulbs. A stylist fussed with his hair while another adjusted the fit of his tuxedo jacket.

He caught his reflection—sharp black suit, crisp white shirt, tie knotted perfectly. Even he had to admit he cleaned up well. But his smile stayed faint, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

His manager popped his head in. "Samira’s on her way. Smile, Ethan. You’re one of the faces people came to see."

Ethan leaned back in the chair. "They came to see the outfits, the trophies, the gossip—not me."

"Stop sulking." The manager straightened his lapels. "You’ll be fine."

Ethan forced a grin for the mirror. "I’m always fine. Just... not where I want to be."

***

The crowd outside the Grand Royale Theatre was a restless sea of cameras, reporters, and screaming fans pressed against the barricades. Flashing bulbs lit up the evening like bursts of lightning, catching every shimmer of gown and every smile from the stars stepping onto the red carpet.

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. "And here come two of the night’s most anticipated guests — Ethan Carter and Samira Vale!"

Gasps and cheers followed instantly.

Ethan stepped out of the sleek black car first, the light catching on the deep black of his perfectly tailored tuxedo. The fit was flawless — sharp lines, slim cut, the kind of look that made him look taller, broader. His hair was styled back with just enough mess to keep him from looking too polished, and the warm undertone of his skin glowed under the carpet lights.

A second later, Samira stepped out beside him. She was stunning in a champagne-gold gown that hugged her figure, sequins catching every flash. Her long earrings swayed as she moved, her smile poised and camera-ready.

They paused at the start of the carpet, and almost as if rehearsed, Ethan offered his arm. Samira took it lightly, and together they began walking toward the wall of photographers.

Click. Click. Click.

Shouts of "Over here!" and "One more shot!" filled the air.

On camera, they looked like they belonged there together — his dark, classic suit against her bright, shimmering gown, the contrast perfect for the photos. Every few steps, Ethan would turn slightly to let her take the spotlight, and when she laughed at something he said, the cameras caught it instantly.

"Beautiful pair," one reporter murmured to another, adjusting their camera lens.

"They really do look good together," someone in the crowd whispered to their friend. "Like they stepped out of a drama scene."

Social media posts were already flooding in:

#EthancarterAndSamiravale trending.

"Look at them together!!! Fire couple!!"

"They need to do another series ASAP."

Ethan didn’t react to the whisper, but his manager on the side looked pleased. Samira smiled at the attention, used to the sparkle of red carpets. Ethan’s smile stayed polite — but his eyes scanned the crowd briefly.

When Tara arrived at the theatre—after hearing from Aunt Maratha that he was at the awards ceremony—she felt a pang of guilt. The surgery had been critical and important, and lives had been at stake, but still...

The main street outside was packed with people. She carefully made her way to the side, where a cluster of fans and curious onlookers stood pressed behind the barricades.

She was still in her hospital clothes — simple jeans, white sneakers, and a light sweater over a plain top. Her hair was tied back loosely, and she had no makeup except for a bit of lip balm. She hadn’t thought much about it when she left the hospital, but standing here now, surrounded by people in dresses, heels, and styled hair, she felt the difference instantly.

Then she saw him.

Ethan.

Walking down the carpet with Samira on his arm, his smile picture-perfect under the lights. The cameras loved them. Even from a distance, Tara could see the way they fit visually — tall, poised, elegant. Every time the flashes went off, it was another perfect shot for the magazines.

She stayed where she was, behind a few people, close enough to hear the voices around her.

"Wow, they look amazing together."

"Honestly, if you told me they were dating in real life, I’d believe it."

"They have so much chemistry — remember their drama? That rooftop scene?"

Tara’s fingers tightened on the strap of her bag. She knew people were just reacting to what they saw. She knew this was his job. But standing here in her simple sweater, listening to strangers talk about how perfect he looked with someone else... she felt an ache she hadn’t expected.

One woman beside her whispered to her friend, "If I was her, I’d be so jealous."

Her friend laughed. "If I was her, I’d be proud. But look at her dress — Samira’s just on another level."

The words weren’t directed at Tara, but they might as well have been. She glanced down at herself, at her comfortable but plain clothes, and her chest tightened. She suddenly felt out of place in this world of lights and gloss, like she was peeking through a window into something she didn’t belong to.

Ethan and Samira paused midway down the carpet for an interview. From where Tara stood, she could see the cameras capturing their smiles, their laughter. Samira’s hand rested lightly on Ethan’s arm, and the crowd around them seemed to love it.

The host asked something that made the people near Tara laugh. Someone muttered, "See? They’d make such a good couple."

That was enough.

Tara took a step back from the barricade. The sound of cameras and cheers seemed louder now, pressing against her ears. She turned and started walking away, weaving back through the crowd until the theatre was out of sight.