Confused

Episode 7

After the contest, we went straight back to the agency. The entire crew and I threw a mini celebration in the lounge—music pulsed through the speakers, laughter filled the air, and the smell of pizza boxes and sparkling juice made the place feel like a victory party.

“Here’s to the best team ever!” I cheered, raising a glass of soda.

“TO US!” the crew roared in unison, clinking their glasses together.

As promised, I announced a raise for everyone and a two-day break starting tomorrow. The room erupted with applause and happy chatter.

I smiled, feeling the weight of the past months lift a little. I needed this break too. And if Brian was free, maybe we could finally have an entire day to ourselves—no press, no rehearsals, no stress.

But as the party began to wind down, something gnawed at the back of my mind. My smile faded.

Director Jones.

My stomach tightened with anger.

I stormed down the hall, heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. I spotted him ahead, casually scrolling through his phone, and shouted:

“DIRECTOR JONES!”

He flinched like a guilty child caught red-handed. Slowly, he turned to face me, his eyes wide.

“Miss Stacy…” he stammered, beads of sweat forming on his brow. “What brings you here?”

“Why did you sell our storyline to The Swan?!” I demanded, my voice sharp and cutting. “Do you even realize they’re our competition?”

“I—I’m just as shocked as you are, Miss Stacy. I swear I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me!” I snapped. “It’s obvious you betrayed us. After all these years?”

“I swear on anything, I didn’t do it! I would never betray STEA!” His voice cracked, his desperation spilling over.

I studied his trembling hands, his darting eyes. Something in me softened. He’d been loyal for years… could he really do this?

I exhaled heavily. “Alright. I’ll let you off the hook—for now. But don’t ever let something like this happen again.”

“Thank you, Miss Stacy. You won’t regret this,” he said, bowing slightly, visibly relieved.

Later, my driver dropped me off at home. I flopped onto the couch and called Brian.

“Are you free tomorrow?” I asked, fingers crossed.

“For you? Always,” he said, his voice soft and warm.

Perfect. A date. A real one.

The next morning, I dressed carefully—an off-shoulder cream blouse that highlighted my collarbones, paired with high-waisted jeans that hugged my curves. I let my hair down in loose waves.

I had just slipped on one shoe when the doorbell rang.

“Coming!” I called, hurrying to answer.

Brian stood there, leaning against the frame like he owned it, hands in his pockets and that boyish grin plastered on his face.

“Brian? You’re early. Weren’t we meeting at—”

“I couldn’t wait,” he interrupted. “Besides, shouldn’t I be the one picking you up for our date?”

I laughed. “Fine. But I was just about to head out.”

“I’m starving,” he said, heading straight for the kitchen.

“There’s nothing there!” I chased after him.

“Then let’s make breakfast together,” he suggested.

“Brian, we were supposed to have breakfast at BXB’s—remember your plan?”

“I changed it. Cooking together sounds more fun.”

I shook my head but couldn’t hide my smile. “Alright, let’s do it.”

Brian was… hopeless in the kitchen. He nearly set the toast on fire, cracked an egg on the counter instead of the bowl, and got flour all over his shirt.

“Are you even trying?” I teased, laughing as I wiped flour off his cheek.

“Hey, I’m doing my best here! Cooking is harder than acting, okay?”

We finally sat down with pancakes and bacon. I teased him again.

“You know, I thought you’d be like those romantic boyfriends who can cook up a storm for their girlfriends, but clearly, I’ll be doing all the cooking.”

He grinned. “Maybe I can’t cook, but I promise I’ll make today unforgettable.”

Our first stop was a horror movie. Brian had insisted he wasn’t scared of anything. But the moment the first jump scare hit, he grabbed my hand so hard I thought he’d crush it.

“Stacy, that thing just moved!” he whispered, wide-eyed.

“Relax, it’s just a movie,” I whispered back, smirking.

By the c****x, he was practically in my lap, hiding his face in my shoulder.

“Brian, I think I’m the one playing boyfriend here,” I teased as the credits rolled.

“That was too scary! Are you even human? You didn’t flinch once,” he said, pouting.

“You’re just a scaredy-cat.”

“Next time—no horror movies. I’ll pick something romantic,” he muttered, still clutching my hand as we left.

Next stop: the amusement park.

We tried everything—roller coasters (Brian screamed louder than the kids), bumper cars (he crashed into me on purpose), and carnival games.

When he won me a giant teddy bear at the ring toss, he held it out with a proud grin. “For my fearless girlfriend.”

I took it and kissed his cheek. “It’s perfect. Just like you.”

Later, we sat on a bench sharing cotton candy, our fingers sticky with sugar. The sunset bathed his face in warm light, and for a moment, I felt completely at peace.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“So are you,” I teased.

He leaned in and kissed me softly.

Just as I was about to suggest heading home, my phone rang. Unknown number.

I ignored it. It rang again. And again.

On the fourth call, I picked up.

“Hello?”

“Miss Stacy! Thank God! You have to help me!” the voice gasped.

“Who is this?”

“I’m Mr. Brown—Sarah’s manager from The Swan. I have evidence about your mother’s case. But you must hire me now and guarantee security!”

“YOU’RE FROM THE SWAN?!”

“Yes, but please listen—”

Click. I hung up.

“Who was that?” Brian asked.

“Some Mr. Brown. Sarah’s manager.”

“That’s weird…”

“Whatever. Let’s call it a day.”

“Who said we’re going home?” Brian said with a mischievous grin.

“Huh?”

“I booked us a night at the Robins Hotel. Romantic enough?”

My heart fluttered. “You did what?”

“Just trust me.”

“Fine. Lead the way.”

Twenty minutes later, we arrived. Brian checked us in while I waited in the lobby. My phone buzzed again.

Sarah.

I frowned and answered.

“What did you do to Mr. Brown?” she hissed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, hanging up.

I found the restroom, but when I pushed the door open—

Blood. So much blood.

A man lay on the floor, his head caved in, a crimson pool spreading beneath him.

I screamed.

Back in the room, Brian tried to calm me down.

“Stacy, the police will handle it.”

A knock.

Two officers stood there.

“Miss Stacy Jordan?”

“Yes?”

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Mr. Brown. Please come with us.”

“WHAT?!”