Urban System in America-Chapter 386 - 385: Fragile

"Where are you?"

"Hmm? I’m at the—" She paused, thinking. "—the Starlight Crown Hotel. "They booked me the fancy suite with a view. Supposed to ’help me rest creatively.’"

Of course it was. One of those five-star places with more mirrors than walls.

"Yeah, because marble walls really scream ’creativity,’" he said dryly.

She laughed... and that small, genuine sound made the quiet room feel a little less empty.

They talked about nothing and everything... the kind of easy, unplanned talk that new people fall into when they’re not ready to say what they mean, but still want to stay connected.

Technically, they weren’t a couple yet, because they haven’t officially confirmed it yet.

But also... they kinda were.

The memory of last night lingered like a shadow at dawn.

The party, the danger, the chaos...

And then, that night in the suite... the kind of accident that leaves everything permanently changed.

It hadn’t been planned.

It hadn’t even been supposed to happen.

But it did happen.

They hadn’t labeled it. Maybe they didn’t need to.

Maybe it was too new, too fragile to define.

Or maybe it was because both of them knew.... once you said it out loud, it would change everything.

Rex had just found his footing in a new reality, and was still adjusting to a whole new world.

He wasn’t ready to tie emotions into knots he didn’t fully understand yet.

And Monica... she was standing right on the edge of fame, and with her rising fame and fresh spotlight, she couldn’t afford distractions... not when every shot, every photoshoot, every move mattered.

It was the kind of fame that eats time, energy, and privacy. And she needed space to build her dream.

So they both quietly danced around the topic, pretending they didn’t notice.

They talked around... nothing too deep, just random little things.

She told him about the chaos on set, spilled coffee, tangled mic cords, a stylist who nearly set a wig on fire with a curling iron.

About how fake Hollywood smiles could actually qualify as special effects.

About how Rex’s "normal student life" sounded suspiciously like early retirement.

He listened, half-amused, half-enchanted, saying just enough to keep her laughing.

Somewhere between her stories, he seemed to think about something, smirked and suddenly stood up.

Still on the phone, still pretending this was casual.

"Sounds like a fun night," he said.

He straightened his shirt in the mirror, fixed his hair, checked the faint stubble on his jaw — all while keeping his tone perfectly casual.

"Fun is one word for it," she groaned. "You have no idea how exhausting it is to fake energy after midnight."

He grabbed his keys. "Oh, I can imagine."

He was already walking out the door, walking downstairs like he hadn’t just made a spontaneous, mildly insane decision.

She seemed to sense something and asked, "You still there?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said lightly, slipping on his watch. "Just moving around."

"Doing what?"

"Just... watching TV."

Technically true if you counted the dashboard screen of a Ferrari.

Down in the garage, the Ferreri Daytona SR3 gleamed under the dim lights...like a beast who knew his worth.

He got in, one hand still holding the phone, and pressed ignition. The engine purred alive.

On the other side of the call, Monica’s voice hesitated.

"...Wait. What’s that sound?"

Rex smoothly covered the mic and then, calm as ever, said, "Oh, nothing. Just watching something on TV. Some late-night car commercial, I think."

"You sure?"

"Totally."

Monica frowned slightly through the line.

"...That’s a weird TV."

He grinned. "Yeah. 3D sound, very immersive."

Kaelan half asleep appeared near the exit, brows furrowed.

"Sir, heading out?"

Rex covered the mic again. "Just some fresh air. Don’t follow."

Kaelan exhaled through his nose... that resigned bodyguard sigh... and just gave a short nod.

"Understood."

The Ferrari slid out of the garage and into the night like liquid fire.

He closed the windows and clicked on the radio and music flowed low from the stereo... soft, romantic, enough to drown out the city noise and make the lie sound real.

"Still there?" Monica asked.

"Yeah," he said, eyes on the road. "Just... flipping channels."

Monica’s voice was softer now, half-yawn, half-curious.

"You sound... different. What are you doing?"

Rex smiled to himself, turning down a quiet side street toward the hotel.

"Nothing much. Just listening to you complain about your glamorous life."

"Ha-ha," she muttered, but there was a smile in her tone. "You have no idea how exhausting it is being adored."

"I can imagine," he said. "I’m adored too... mostly by my mirror."

That earned a tired giggle. "You...You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," he said, heading for the entrance. "It’s charm. Pure, relentless charm."

She laughed, tired and genuine.

He kept her talking — about work, about the ridiculous studio people, about how someone tried to sell her "healing crystals" for $500, that automatically shatter after absorbing enough dark energy.

The drive was smooth, traffic almost nonexistent at this hour, making his journey to the Starlight Crown Hotel effortless. By the time he reached the Starlight Crown Hotel, her voice had softened, the edges of exhaustion fading into comfort.

He parked a block away first, scanning the area. No flashes, no sneaky long-lens photographers hiding behind bushes.

Good. Clean.

But still circled around once to make sure.

Only after not finding anything suspicious, did he drive up front, stopping right before the hotel’s grand entrance.

The red paint reflected the streetlights, the night breeze caught his hair just right.

He got out, leaned casually against the car... moon above, city behind, phone still pressed to his ear.

Monica frowned faintly. There was something in his tone... distracted, uneven... like he wasn’t really there in the conversation anymore.

On the other end, she could hear faint background sounds. A rustle of fabric, a click, maybe wind. Movement.

"...What are you doing?" she asked softly, trying to sound casual.

"Hmm?" Rex’s reply came half a second too late... the kind of response that confirmed he was, in fact, doing something.

(End of Chapter)