The Interview
~ Alyssa ~ The set has changed. Where there were white roses and silk drapes two hours ago, there’s now a simple velvet couch, two coffee cups, and a camera crew. The madness of the photoshoot has faded into a soft hum of quiet professionalism — lights low, the air calm, the photographer replaced by a smiling Vogue journalist with a pen poised like it’s ready to catch lightning. Greyson sits beside me, still in his suit, tie loosened now. His hand rests casually over mine, thumb tracing slow circles against my skin. Across from us, the interviewer smiles — young, elegant, impossibly poised. “Alright,” she says, “I think the world’s been waiting for this one.” I laugh softly. “That’s what they keep telling me.” “Let’s start simple,” she says. “How are you both feeling, now that ever
- Writer
