KISS ME, ENEMY

Chapter Five: The Public Demands It

The silence on the set after the kiss wasn't a peaceful one; it was a stunned, heavy quiet. Lalessa's mind was reeling, a chaotic mix of the fiery jolt she'd just felt and the professional terror that she had let her feelings get in the way of her job. Raymond pulled away, his eyes locked on hers, his expression as lost and bewildered as her own. For the first time, his usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be found, and in that moment, all she saw was a boy who was just as shocked as she was.

But the moment of quiet confusion was short-lived. The sound of their phones, buzzing and chirping with a frantic rhythm, broke the spell. Lalessa’s phone was a lit-up screen of notifications—Twitter, i********:, t****k. She picked it up, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

And there it was. A grainy video, a low-quality, zoomed-in clip of their kiss, was all over the internet. The video was shot from a distance, but the emotion, the raw, undeniable chemistry, was perfectly captured. The public was going wild.

She scrolled through the comments, her hands trembling. Hashtags like #Rayessa and #KissMeEnemies were at the top of the trending list. The comments were a mix of shocked delight and frenzied excitement.

OMG, their chemistry is insane!

I always knew they had a thing for each other!

This isn't acting, this is real life!

They need to be a couple right now!

Lalessa’s blood ran cold. This wasn't supposed to happen. Their professional, complicated relationship was now a public spectacle, and the world was demanding a happy ending.

Before she could even process it, her phone rang. It was her agent.

"Lalessa, where are you? The studio is calling for an emergency meeting. We need to go, now."

The studio boardroom was a cold, sterile room. Lalessa sat on one side of a long, polished table, and Raymond sat on the other, his face a mask of practiced indifference. In the center, a woman in a power suit, the head of the studio's marketing department, slammed her phone down.

"Do you two have any idea what this is?" she said, her voice sharp and to the point. "This is not a problem. This is a goldmine. In twenty-four hours, that video has generated more buzz than a year's worth of advertising. The public is captivated by your enemies-to-lovers story. They think you're in love."

Lalessa opened her mouth to protest, but Raymond beat her to it.

"And what exactly do you want us to do about it?" he asked, his voice smooth and calm. "Apologize? Deny it? Ruin a perfect marketing opportunity?"

Lalessa shot him a look of pure disbelief. He was just going to go along with this? After the kiss, after the unspoken moment of truth between them?

The woman in the power suit smiled a chillingly perfect smile. "Exactly. We're not going to deny it. We're going to lean into it. We're going to give them what they want. You two are going to attend a press conference together and confirm your relationship. You're going to play the part of a real-life couple."

Lalessa’s blood ran cold. "No. I won't do it. My life is my own. I'm not going to pretend to be in a relationship for a movie studio."

Raymond finally spoke, his eyes meeting hers across the table. "This is the business, Lalessa. We're actors. We get paid to pretend. What's the difference between this and acting on a stage?"

"The difference is that a stage has a curtain!" she snapped, her voice trembling with emotion. "This is my life. My personal life. And you are playing with it like it's a toy."

"Our lives stopped being our own the day we decided to be famous," Raymond said, his voice hard. "You know that as well as I do. This is just a part of the deal. We do this, the film gets a huge audience, and we both get bigger opportunities."

Lalessa felt a sickening lurch in her stomach. He was right. He was playing the part of the professional actor perfectly. He had moved on from their stolen moment, from their powerful, raw kiss, and was already planning his next move. She felt used, played, and completely betrayed.

The press conference was a nightmare. The room was a sea of flashing lights, a cacophony of questions shouted by a hundred different voices. Lalessa sat next to Raymond, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. He was in his element, charming and charismatic, answering every question with a perfectly crafted lie.

He talked about her talent, her passion, and how he had "always seen something special in her." He talked about their rivalry being a "beautiful dance" that led them to each other. Every word was a performance, a lie so convincing that Lalessa herself was starting to believe it.

A journalist asked, "So is it true? Is the on-screen love a real-life romance?"

Raymond turned to her, his smile gentle and reassuring. It was the smile of a man deeply in love. He put his arm around her shoulders, his touch sending a jolt of static electricity through her body, a cruel echo of the powerful kiss. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear. She was about to give a vague answer, but his whisper was meant for her ears only, and it cut through her like a knife.

"Don't get too comfortable, Banks. This is just for the cameras."