They Picked the Wrong D-Lister

We were playing a fake couple on Coupled, the biggest reality dating show in the country. When the finale wrapped, Liam, the A-list movie star I'd been paired with, had a million dollars quietly transferred to my account.

That night, his manager sent me a warning. Take the money and be smart. Don't get any ideas about this being real. A million bucks is a king's ransom for a D-lister like you.

The next day, he and my best friend, Ava—the show's other female lead—went public with their real relationship. The shippers went wild.

Amid the nationwide celebration, I sat down for a live interview. I held up my phone, letting the camera catch the glint of the audio recorder app.

"Toast number one: To me," I said, my voice steady. "For falling for the act and ending up the punchline."

"Toast number two: To being the smokescreen, the perfect cover for his real love story."

"And toast number three: To the two of them, for not even waiting 24 hours to slap me in the face with their official announcement."

Liam and Ava blew up my phone, their threats frantic. "If you release that, you'll disappear from this town for good!"

I smiled. Who said I was just some D-lister?

1

The camera flashes in the interview room were relentless, searing spots into my vision. Reporters, smelling blood in the water, shoved their microphones toward my face.

"Chloe, what did you mean by those 'three toasts'?"

"What's on that recording? Is it about Liam and Ava?"

"Is this just a case of a woman scorned? If you can't have him, you'll ruin him?"

In my pocket, my phone vibrated violently. The screen lit up with the two names I knew better than my own: Liam. Ava.

I didn't answer. I let the frantic buzzing hang in the air, a jarring counterpoint to the tense silence of the room.

I looked straight into the camera lens and curved my lips into a smile—the perfectly calibrated, media-trained smile I'd practiced for three months on the set of Coupled.

"You want to know what's on the recording?"

I held up my phone, my thumb hovering over the play button.

The entire room held its breath.

Suddenly, my agent, Sarah, burst through the door and snatched the phone from my hand.

"I'm so sorry, everyone. Chloe's a bit emotional today. This interview is over!"

She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong, and hauled me toward the exit.

"Chloe, are you insane?" she hissed under her breath. "You think you can take on Liam Carter? With what army?"

She shoved me into the back of a black SUV and slammed the door, cutting off the cacophony of the press.

Sarah tossed my phone back at me, her face a mask of fury. "Liam's team just called. They want you to post a retraction on social media right now. Say it was all a joke."

I glanced down. A new text from Liam had come through.

Chloe, don't push it. I can make sure that recording of yours never sees the light of day.

It was followed by a voice memo from Ava, her voice thick with fake tears.

"Chlo, aren't we best friends? Why are you doing this to me? Liam and I are in love. Can't you just be happy for us?"

In love?

An image flashed in my mind: the final night of filming Coupled. Ava, hiding in a corner of the green room, her eyes red-rimmed. "I'm so jealous of you, Chlo," she'd whispered. "Getting to be with Liam. I just have to watch from the sidelines."

I had actually comforted her, telling her it was all just for the cameras.

Looking back now, I realized she wasn't jealous. She was auditioning. She should have gotten an Oscar for that performance.

I turned off my phone, leaned my head back against the leather seat, and closed my eyes.

"Sarah, pull over."

"What for?"

"I'm terminating my contract."

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