Chapter Text
Shane, over here. Shane! Shane Hollander. Shane, give us a smile!
Shane’s eyes dance over the flashing lights, without his glasses on he struggles to see who is calling his name. It’s just here and there and everywhere around him. There’s yelling and questions and the back of his sock annoyingly sinking down into his shoe. But he can’t stop, he can’t take a moment to breathe. Everyone is here for him. He should be honored, no, he is honored. His flight to stardom has been breathlessly quick and his world is changing around him.
A few months ago he was a nobody, a waiter in a small restaurant in Ontario. Who knew that the small indie film he thought he was filming would become a worldwide sensation. People like Rose Landry and Neil Patrick Harris know who he is for god sakes. He has already had offers from everyone from Lionsgate to Hallmark, his mother is his agent and she’s signed Shane up for everything. She decided his fame could be fleeting and they need to make sure he has enough of an income to support himself if this all blows over.
The movie Shane starred in was a Sci Fi romance between his character and an alien woman, he did most of his stunts and found a great joy from swinging around a blue set. He felt like Spiderman. He was free and flying and got paid for his trouble, but now… All these lights flashing and followers increasing.. People sending him messages from all over the world. He’s grateful of course, it’s just so different. He’s got so much to hide and it feels like the world is going to find out his darkest secrets.
Sometimes it can feel like the edge of a panic attack in these hot and crowded events. But right now, he’s got questions to answer.
“Your film is getting amazing early buzz—what drew you to a sci-fi romance?”
“I think it was the character, mostly. It’s a love story at its core, just told in a different setting. That felt interesting to explore.”
“People are calling this your breakout role—how does that feel?”
“It’s nice to hear. I’m just grateful people are responding to the work.”
“Your life’s changed a lot this year—how are you handling the sudden fame?”
“I’m still figuring it out, I think. Just trying to stay focused on the work and keep things as normal as possible.”
“Do you feel pressure being in the spotlight now?”
“I mean, there’s always some pressure, but it comes with the job. I try not to think about it too much.”
“What’s been the biggest adjustment for you?”
“Probably the schedule. It gets busy pretty quickly.”
“Fans loved seeing you with your co-star Rose Landry—are you two still in touch?”
“She’s great. We both have pretty busy schedules, but I wish her the best.”
“Was that a whirlwind romance or just two actors having fun?”
“I think people read into things a lot. We spent some time together, that’s all.”
“Would you be open to dating someone in the industry again?”
“I don’t really think about it in those terms. It just depends.”
“Your chemistry in the film feels very real—did that carry off-screen at all?”
“I think when you trust your scene partner, that shows. That’s really all it is.”
“Is romance something you prioritize in your life right now?”
“I’m pretty focused on work at the moment.” God please stop asking, this question always comes up. At least it looks like things are wrapping up, Lady Gaga is exiting her car onto the red carpet.
“What are you most excited about tonight?”
“Just being here. It’s a great event.”
Shane takes a deep breath as the paparazzi turn their attention to Gaga, he’s so tense his shoulders are starting to ache. He follows the crowd into the large main hall for the awards, luckily it’s low lighting in here, giving his headache a chance to fade. He brings his ginger ale to his lips and drinks it down, letting the bubbles flow down his throat, it’s cool and refreshing. Most of the stars have a glass of wine but one champagne was quite enough for Shane, he needs to keep his head right.
During a break, he finds his phone and starts messaging a close friend of his. Hayden was the head chef at the restaurant where Shane used to work. The two keep in touch, it’s just that Hayden wants to protect his wife and kids from the incessant paparazzi. Shane plans to meet Hayden tomorrow for a very low key brunch at his place. Hayden’s wife Jackie is aware of Shane’s eating habits and makes what Hayden calls ‘bird food’. A little teasing is good, keeps Shane humble.
Right now, Shane just wants his bed. He wants to curl up under his thick, heavy comforter and sleep for a few days straight. He can’t remember the last time he slept more than four hours. But this is important, this is his future he’s building. Only a few more hours.
Morning light spills across the kitchen, soft and gold, catching on the edges of mismatched mugs and the glossy surface of cut fruit. It felt… quiet. Normal. The kind of normal Shane hadn’t realised he missed until he was standing in it.
He hovers awkwardly just inside the doorway for half a second before Hayden looks up from the stove.
“Hey,” Hayden says, like it hadn’t been weeks. Like Shane hadn’t just come through the back entrance in a hoodie and cap, checking over his shoulder before slipping inside. “You made it.”
“Yeah.” Shane pulls the cap off, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late. You’re just famous now,” Hayden shoots back, easy, teasing. “Different rules.”
Jackie laughs softly from the table, bouncing their baby girl on her knee. “Ignore him. Come sit down before everything gets cold.”
Shane exhales something he didn’t realise he’s been holding and moves to the table. There was already a plate set out for him. Smaller than the others.
A neat arrangement: a slice of dense, grainy toast, half an avocado, a scoop of something that looked aggressively healthy, a couple of eggs. Next to it, a bowl of berries.
Hayden slides into the seat across from him, eyeing the plate. “I tried to guess what you eat now. It looks like bird food, but like… expensive bird food.”
Shane huffs a quiet laugh, picking up his fork. “Yeah. That’s about right.”
“You actually like it?” Jackie asks.
“It’s fine.” He shrugs. “You get used to it.” He doesn’t add that he’s still hungry most of the time.
The baby makes a soft, insistent noise, grabbing at Jackie’s shirt. Jackie shifted her easily, murmuring something under her breath, completely at ease.
Shane watches for a second too long, his eyes glazing over.
Hayden notices. “You look wrecked,” Hayden said, not unkindly.
“I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh.”
Shane takes a bite, chewing slowly. The food was good, better than what he’d been eating between interviews and fittings, but it sits lightly. Too light. “Just busy,” he adds after a second. “It’s… a lot right now.”
Jackie gives him a sympathetic look. “We saw some of it. The carpet the other night looked insane.”
Shane lets out a short breath, something between a laugh and disbelief. “It was. I couldn’t see anything.. Just flashes. And people yelling questions. I don’t even know what I said to half of them.”
“Probably something very charming and mysterious,” Hayden says.
“Probably something very boring,” Shane corrects.
The baby squeals suddenly, smacking her hand against the table, and all three of them paused. Then Hayden grins. “Yeah, she agrees with you.”
Shane smiles as he reaches for a berry, popping it into his mouth.
Jackie tilts her head. “So what’s the weirdest part so far?”
Shane leans back slightly, thinking. “I met Lady Gaga last night.”
That got both of them.
“No way,” Hayden says immediately. “What was she like?”
Shane’s mouth twitches. “Honestly? Really nice. Like, really normal, considerate.” He pauses. “She was funny, a little chaotic. In a good way.”
“Chaotic how?”
“She started talking to me about the film and then somehow we ended up on—” he frowns slightly, trying to remember, “—like, deep sea creatures? I don’t know. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but she was very into it.”
Jackie laughs. “I love that.”
“Yeah.” Shane looks down at his plate, pushing the avocado slightly with his fork. “It was… good, though. Made it feel less—” He hesitates.
“Insane?” Hayden offers.
“Yeah.”
There’s a small lull. Comfortable, but not empty. Then Hayden picks up his coffee before glancing at Shane over the rim. “We also saw some photos of you.”
Shane doesn’t look up. “Yeah?”
“With Rose.”
There it is.
Shane’s fork pauses for just a fraction of a second before he keeps eating. “She’s great,” he says evenly. “We went out a couple of times. That’s it.”
Hayden seems hyper focused on Shane, watching his every emotion.
Shane meets his eyes briefly. “It’s not a thing.”
“Okay,” Hayden says, easy again, like he believes him or at least isn’t going to challenge it.
Jackie nods. “People like a story.”
“Yeah,” Shane says quietly. “They do.”
The baby reaches out suddenly, grabbing at Shane’s sleeve with surprising determination. He blinks, caught off guard.
“Well,” Hayden says, “you’ve been chosen.”
Shane huffs a soft laugh, carefully offering his finger instead. Tiny fingers wrap around it instantly and something in his chest eases.
No cameras. No questions. No expectations. Just a little baby holding his finger like he’s the most important person in the world.
Jackie smiles at him. “You can come here, you know. Even if it has to be all… secret.”
Shane glances between them, then down at the baby still holding onto him. “Yeah,” he says, softer this time. “I know.”
And for the first time in what felt like days, he actually slowed down while he ate.
The restaurant was too loud.
Not in an obvious way, it wasn’t like there was shouting, there was no music blaring. But there was a constant hum of voices, cutlery, movement. It presses in around Shane, filling the spaces between thoughts, making it harder to keep hold of any one thing for too long.
Across from him, Yuna was talking. “…and they’re very interested, Shane. It’s a multi-picture option, not locked in, but the exposure alone—”
She gestures lightly with her hand, polished, controlled, like she is still in a meeting instead of sitting across from her son. “—and then there’s the campaign. It’s a luxury brand, very clean image, very curated. They specifically asked about you after the premiere.”
Shane nods, he hasn’t touched his food. A perfectly arranged plate sat in front of him. Something small, expensive, carefully portioned. He’d taken a few bites earlier, just enough to look like he was eating.
Yuna didn’t seem to notice. “…we’ll need to coordinate schedules, obviously, but this is the kind of momentum we want. You don’t say no to this kind of momentum.”
“Right,” Shane says, his voice sounds steady. Good, normal. Inside, everything feels… tight. Like he can’t quite get a full breath in.
David, sitting beside him, has been quiet. Watching.
Yuna continues, flipping seamlessly to the next thing. “And the scripts that came in this week—there’s one I really think you should read. It’s a drama, more grounded, which could be a good pivot after the sci-fi release. We don’t want you boxed in too early—”
Shane nods again. “—and press is only going to ramp up from here. We’ll need to be strategic about appearances. You can’t be everywhere, but you need to be seen in the right places—”
“Yuna.”
It wasn’t loud, but it cut cleanly through everything.
She pauses, mid-sentence, looking over at David.
He didn’t look at her. His eyes were on Shane. “You okay son?” The question lands heavier than it should have.
Shane blinks once, then looks down briefly at his plate before lifting his gaze again. A small, polite smile slipped into place like muscle memory. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine.”
David doesn’t look convinced.
Yuna’s expression shifts, just slightly. Into something sharper, assessing, but she didn’t interrupt.
“It’s just a lot,” Shane adds, still calm, still controlled. “Busy. That’s all.”
“You haven’t said much,” David says.
“I’m listening.” That part, at least, was true.
Yuna leans back a fraction, folding her hands together. “It is a lot,” she says, tone measured now. “But I just want to make sure you’re provided for.”
Shane nods immediately. “I know.”
“And it’s happening quickly because you’re ready for it,” she continues. “This is good. This is where you should be.”
“I know,” he repeats. Everything in his chest tightens again. He reaches for his fork, more for something to do than anything else, and takes a small bite. Chewed. Swallowed. It doesn’t help.
David’s gaze hasn’t moved. “You look tired,” he says.
“I’m just working,” Shane replies, a little too quickly this time. He softens it a second later. “It’s normal.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” David says quietly.
Yuna exhales, not quite impatient, but close. “It does, at this stage.”
Shane shakes his head slightly, not wanting that to turn into something. “It’s fine,” he says. “Really. I’m good.”
He meets his dad’s eyes just long enough to make it convincing. “I’ve got everything I wanted,” he adds, quieter now, like that should settle it. Like that was the answer.
David holds his gaze for a moment longer, then gives a small nod. “Alright.”
Yuna picks the thread back up almost immediately. “As I was saying—the campaign. We’ll need to lock in dates by the end of the week, so I’ll have my assistant—”
Her voice slips back into that steady rhythm, all business, all forward motion.
Shane nods where he was supposed to. Says “yeah” at the right times.
Keeps his expression neutral, his hands steady.
Around them, the restaurant carries on. Voices, laughter, glasses clinking.
And Shane sits in the middle of it, composed and quiet, trying not to feel like he was already falling behind in a life he’d only just stepped into.
Shane rubs his eyes and yawns, someone is banging on his door at a god awful hour. Another make up artist, stylist, his mother, his father or Hayden could be behind that door. He’s not concerned, just annoyed. He’s wearing only a loose grey shirt with a hole in it and boxers. He’s lost all shame since becoming a star. He opens the door while yawning loudly to make a point, whoever it is has awoken him has disturbed his beauty sleep.
On the other side of the door is a tall man, maybe six foot four, his hair is curly and wild on his head. It’s golden, not even blond. He’s wearing an expensive black suit that is perfectly tailored to him. His muscles strain under the suit jacket, his ass near splitting the seam at the back. He has a wire coming from his left ear and dark black Rayban sunglasses covering his eyes.
“Hello.” The man says, his accent thick. Must be eastern European. “I am Ilya Rozanov, your new personal bodyguard.”
“What the fuck..?”