Philip shut his laptop with a quiet click, exhaling as he rolled his shoulders. The office was silent except for the steady rhythm of his own breath. Hours spent buried in reports weighed on him, yet his mind remained fixed on the financial data from earlier.

  He leaned back, gaze drifting across the minimalistic yet impossibly refined room. He felt an inexplicable sense of unease settled in his chest. A vague restlessness lingered and a fleeting sense of discontent he didn’t bother to name.

  A soft chime broke the silence.

  He glanced at the notification.

  TheQueenCeCe started following you.

  For a moment he simply stared at the words CeCe.

  Her delicate face flashed in his mind instantly. He hadn’t even opened the app but he knew it was her.

  Before he could second-guess himself his fingers moved, clicking on the notification. Then Instagram loaded, displaying her profile.

  He arched a brow.

  A recent post at the top of the feed caught his attention. A fan had posted a screenshot of her profile four minutes ago with a caption: REALLY, GIRL? Not again??

  He scrolled down to the comments, eyes flicking over the replies.

  @CeCeFan4Life: CeCe changed her username again... girl, pick a brand and stick with it!

  @SpicyTea24: Not her going from CeCeShines to TheQueenCeCe overnight. Is this a rebrand or a mood swing?

  @LostInFandom: I just got used to her last one ??

  He kept scrolling, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips without him knowing it.

  @OverthinkingPotato: Am I the only one reading too much into this? Like... the previous one was CeCeShines, now it’s TheQueenCeCe— girl, are you manifesting?? ??

  @All4CeCe: OMG now that you mention it, seems like it. ?? Is our girl trying to tell us something?

  And then, among the chaos, a familiar name popped up.

  @MsMOfficial: CeCe, babe, you need consistency. We can’t keep changing your handle every month!

  He didn’t have to wonder how CeCe would respond.

  @TheQueenCeCe: It’s called versatility. ?

  Just now...

  Amused, he felt the corner of his mouth twitch but he schooled his expression, clearing his throat as he steadied himself. With a practiced motion he exited Instagram pretending he hadn’t just done what he did.

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  Across the city, in a dimly lit bedroom, CeCe was waiting.

  Her legs swung impatiently off the edge of her bed as she refreshed her notifications for the fifth— no, sixth— time. She had changed her username, replied to fan comments and watched a few reels but still— nothing. No follow back. No acknowledgment.

  She flopped backward onto the mattress, phone clutched in her hand.

  “He saw it, right?”

  It wasn’t like she was expecting much. She knew his attention wasn’t so easy to get, but still a follow back wasn’t that much of a commitment.

  She narrowed her eyes at the blank screen.

  Fine.

  If he wanted to ignore her, she’d make it harder.

  CeCe sat up, flipping through her gallery. She’d been taking a lot of photos lately. Subtle and effortless-looking thirst traps that had taken at least thirty attempts each. Now, she needed the perfect one.

  Her finger hovered over a mirror selfie: with a tousled hair, silk robe barely hanging off one shoulder and a soft lighting casting a glow over her skin. She held a wine glass, lips slightly parted as if caught in the middle of some lazy, intimate moment.

  It was perfect.

  She smirked.

  Without hesitation, she opened Telegram and sent the picture directly to Philip.

  One checkmark. Message delivered.

  CeCe exhaled, stretching her arms.

  Then—

  Two checkmarks. Philip had seen it.

  Gotcha.

  CeCe’s smirk deepened as she picked up her tea, savoring the anticipation. Any second now, he’d react. Maybe a typing indicator, a dry response or even just a thumbs up.

  Except.

  Nothing happened.

  Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then another.

  CeCe squinted at the screen.

  No typing bubble. No reply.

  Just silence.

  Her fingers tightened around her phone then she chuckled.

  Oh, so you wanna play it like that?

  Fine.

  With a slow, deliberate movement, she clicked “Delete for Everyone.”

  The message disappeared.

  Then, she sent another one.

  CeCe: Oops. Wrong send.

  She tossed her phone onto the bed and burst into laughter.

  If Philip had even a fraction of a soul, this should at least confuse him. Or annoy him. Either outcome was fine.

  Meanwhile, across the city—

  The car moved smoothly through the quiet streets with its engine purring softly against the stillness of the night. Behind the wheel Philip’s driver maintained a steady grip, his eyes scanning the road with practiced ease. The city lights flickered past in a blur, casting fleeting shadows across the sleek interior.

  In the back seat, Philip Garcia was resting his head against the cushion with his eyes closed. His posture was composed, but the weight of exhaustion was evident in the subtle heaviness of his frame. The driver had seen this before, long nights and relentless schedules the kind of fatigue that settled into a man’s bones.

  Then, the quiet was broken by the soft buzz of a phone vibrating.

  The driver glanced at the rearview mirror. Philip didn’t stir at first. Then, with a measured breath, Philip reached into his pocket.

  A Telegram notification.

  Celeste Concepcion: Oops. Wrong send.

  Philip sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  Of course.

  His gaze flickered to the screen. He hadn’t meant to open her message so quickly earlier, but he had done it instinctively without thinking. And now? Now the damn thing was gone.

  A slow exhale left his lips.

  He wasn’t going to entertain this. He was tired. He needed sleep.

  Philip closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax.

  Then his phone vibrated one last time.

  CeCe: Unless... you liked it?

  Philip stilled.

  His grip on the phone slackened as his gaze flickered just for a second back to the screen.

  He inhaled deeply.

  Then with a measured, unreadable expression he set his phone aside.

  The driver cast a glance at him through the rearview mirror. “Any problem, sir?” He asked, keeping his tone neutral.

  Philip opened his eyes but his expression didn’t shift. He gave a small shake of his head. “Just keep driving.”

  The driver looked at him once more, searching for something in his face but found nothing. Philip’s expression remained composed as if the stiffness from a moment ago had never been there at all.

  Noting this, the driver turned his attention back to the road and continued driving.