[Tuesday] [1:30 PM]
The Titan HQ buzzed with the kind of energy usually reserved for movie launches and luxury fashion week. Digital billboards across New York, LA, Paris, and Vegas pulsed with the latest Titan Clothing campaign. Screens flashed between shots of Angelina Jolie in an emerald green slit gown, walking through a candlelit corridor; then to her on a rooftop in a black trench and boots, wind slicing through her hair.
Another cut: Angelina in gold, walking toward the camera with Alex in a tailored dark brown suit, the two of them smoldering like they were in a spy film that knew it was better than Bond. Then their close-up intimate moment before the twirl.
Then the screen jumped.
Max.
Hair tousled, makeup perfect but not trying too hard, wearing a storm-grey hoodie, sitting cross-legged in a velvet chair. The text read: Comfort is power.
Then it shifted: Max in a full glam gown, face turned toward the light, eyes fierce. Then again, Max in a crimson lace bridal gown, back-to-back with Caroline.
Caroline's shot faded in next. White rose-sheer corset dress. She stood in front of a wall of shattered glass, like it didn't faze her. Next: her in a sleek beige editorial blazer set, leaning against a classic car.
Finally, both women together in a couple's shot, framed like a painting. Soft power, unshakable presence. Erotic in a way.
At the Williamsburg Diner, everyone's eyes were glued to the TV.
Max sat in a booth, straw half-in her mouth, looking at the ad. She still couldn't believe that she was on TV.
Next to her, Caroline was holding a fork with a single bite of French toast, completely forgotten. Her eyes were wide.
Across from them, Earl had his hands on the counter like he was witnessing a miracle. "Okay. Now I know I'm not high. That's actually you two. On a damn billboard. Like, everywhere. It's all over the city and now on TV. Man, am I glad to be alive to see this day."
Han looked like he was having a mild stroke. "This is not real. Max, Caroline, why are you famous?!"
Oleg clutched his chest. "Caroline, you are dressed like a goddess from an expensive European perfume ad. Max... you look like you're about to murder me with a diamond-encrusted stiletto. I have never been more turned on."
Sophie narrowed her eyes, adjusting her top. "Okay, but real talk... is that bridal gown one of yours, Max? Because I would wear the hell out of that to ruin my ex's wedding."
"Or, you could ruin my something," Oleg said with a smug expression, looking at Sophie.
"I might just," Sophie replied, looking down at Oleg's crotch.
"Arg! Get a room, you two," Max said.
Caroline finally blinked. "I feel like I'm watching someone else's life. Like, we're in a documentary about someone cooler than us."
Max took a slow sip of soda. "Speak for yourself. I am that cool. I'm just usually wearing sweatpants when it happens."
Han kept glancing between them and the screen. "From waitresses to cupcake shop owners and now models. You two are so lucky to have him."
Caroline pointed her fork at him. "Million-dollar cupcake shops. With investment portfolios. And custom frosting engineers. Yeah, we are lucky, but we paid him for everything. Zero debts. Don't get it twisted, Han."
Sophie clapped. "Now that you two are going to be famous, we need to hang out more. Maybe you can show me the ropes. Wink Wink."
The TV played the ad loop again. This time, the diner got quiet. Customers stared. A few whispered and pointed. Phones came out. Someone took a photo. Max noticed but didn't say a word.
Caroline leaned in, a little dazed. "I mean... is this our life now?"
Max shrugged, a slow grin forming. "Apparently. Also... did you see the way Alex looked in that suit with Angelina? He looked expensive and hot."
Caroline smirked. "He always looks expensive and hot. It's the smugness."
Earl looked around. "Okay, but for real... y'all were talking about a photoshoot back then, but didn't even tell us this was coming."
Max threw a fry at him. "You thought we were gonna ruin the surprise? Please. What kind of queens would we be?"
Oleg stood dramatically. "I, for one, welcome our new fashion overlords."
Sophie raised her glass. "To Max and Caroline. Cupcake moguls. Billboard models. Unofficial glam queens."
Han sighed. "Do we bow now? Or...?"
Caroline clinked her glass to Max's. "No bowing. Just cupcakes. For life."
The ad loop continued in the background, but the noise in the diner was rising. A small group of college girls near the window recognized them and gasped, rushing over for selfies.
Max blinked. "Okay. I guess it's real now."
...
[1:55 PM] [Women's Washroom]
The door swung closed behind them, cutting off the buzz of the diner. Max flipped the lock and turned to Caroline with her eyes wide.
For a second, neither of them said anything.
Then they both dropped the act.
Max let out a strangled whisper-squeal and lunged forward. Caroline caught her mid-freak-out hug, both of them gripping each other like survivors clinging to a floating door in a sinking ship.
Caroline's voice cracked. "I can't feel my knees."
"My spine just resigned," Max whispered. "It left the chat."
They stood there in a shaky hug, breathing fast.
Caroline pulled back a little and gripped Max's shoulders. "Did you see their faces? Did you see the way people looked at us? Like we're not even real."
Max nodded, eyes still wide. "One girl called me 'iconic.' I'm not even sure what I did. I was just sitting. Sitting with soda!"
Caroline gasped. "I almost peed."
Max blinked. "You what?"
"I almost peed. Like, during the second loop of the ad. My bladder gave up. I didn't, but it was close."
Max grinned through her panic. She wasn't sure if she should smile, cry, panic, or just hide under her bed. "We handled it cool though. Right?"
"We were smooth," Caroline said, nodding fast. "Ice cold."
Max took a shaky breath and slumped down onto the tiled floor. "Okay. I need to sit. My legs are doing that thing where they pretend to exist, but really they're noodles."
Caroline joined her, heels clicking against the tiles. She sat next to Max and put her head against the wall.
There was a long pause.
They sat in silence, the only sound the distant hum of the diner beyond the door and the faint buzz of a flickering light above them.
Then Caroline whispered, "This is really happening."
Max nodded, mouth suddenly dry. "We're not just 'cute background best friends' anymore. We're... central. Like, actually in it."
"We're the billboard. We are the ad."
Max turned to her slowly. "I might just explode. Just letting you know."
"Me too."
They laughed a little, and it turned into half-sobs of joy. Caroline covered her face with her hands, trying to get control.
"I thought I was prepared," she said. "I mean, we knew this was coming. We knew."
"We practiced interviews," Max whispered. "We practiced cool reactions. We planned outfits. We did skin care masks."
"But nothing prepares you for that feeling." Caroline sniffled. "That... full-on lightning-bolt-to-the-face 'oh my god the world sees us now' feeling."
Max looked at her with a tear threatening the corner of her eye. "And they didn't laugh. They liked it. They liked us."
Caroline leaned her head back. "We need to call someone."
Max shook her head. "No. We need to breathe."
Caroline wiped her eyes and exhaled. "Okay. We sit here for five more minutes. Then put on our ice face and go out there. We'll walk down the streets, people will point at us, maybe talk to us. We'll pretend to be fine, like we are pros. You've seen how Scar and Lilly behave. We'll just copy them. Then we will..."
"...run home, lock the doors, shut the windows, and hide under the bed. Then run away to the countryside with no internet or TV and live there for the rest of our life. Great plan," Max babbled out before Caroline could finish.
"Max. Deep breath," Caroline grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes.
Max began to take deep breaths.
"Yes. That's it. You are doing great."
"Really? Am I?"
"Yes, you are. Now, listen to me. This is just the start. We need to be brave and confident if we are to stand beside Alex and be in his arms in the next photoshoot instead of some other woman. You get what I mean?" Caroline asked.
Max's eyes flared like someone had flipped a switch inside her.
"In his arms?" she repeated, voice sharp. "A new girl?"
Caroline saw it instantly, the shift from overwhelmed to laser-focused. The nerves didn't disappear, they just hardened into something more familiar. Max's version of armor.
"He was with Angelina during the last shoot. You saw how intimate they were and even had a private rehearsal in a locked room," Caroline said carefully, not provoking the situation but definitely stirring the pot.
Max stood up like she was powered by a new mission. Her entire energy reset, rebooted. She looked down at herself, fixed her clothes, then adjusted her hair using the dim reflection in the chrome soap dispenser.
"No offense to Angie. She's hot and sexy. I can't blame Alex for falling for her," Max said, narrowing her eyes. "But the next campaign is going to have me on his lap, not her or anyone else. Maybe you. Yeah, it'll be a threesome shoot. Oh. Now that sounds bad. Anyway, if she or anyone wants to fight me for it, I will happily beat her with a designer heel and send her a gift basket afterward."
Caroline laughed. "That's the Max I know."
Max pointed a finger dramatically at her own reflection. "We didn't survive debt, rat-infested apartments, and retail hell to be a side character in our own glow-up. We are center-stage now. Lights. Camera. Absurd levels of confidence."
She turned back to Caroline, face set like she was about to storm a battlefield.
"Also," Max added, "if Alex does another 'power pose' with anyone who's not me or you, I will fake a public scandal just to hijack the narrative."
Caroline put both hands over her mouth to keep from shrieking with laughter. "What kind of scandal?"
"Not sure yet. Maybe I'll throw a latte at someone in Paris Fashion Week. Or accidentally release pics of your snoring face and call it performance art. We'll workshop it."
Caroline stood, smoothing down her dress. Her breathing was steadier now, thanks to Max. Always thanks to Max.
"You know what?" she said. "We're not hiding. We're walking out there with perfect posture and smug little smiles."
"Right?" Max flipped her hair. "We strut. Like we're allergic to insecurity."
They checked each other one last time in the mirror. Both looked flawless in that way only adrenaline and sheer willpower could create.
Then Caroline unlocked the door.
The diner was louder now. Someone had put the Titan ad on repeat on a tablet at the counter. People were taking photos, whispering louder. Two more girls were clearly waiting for the bathroom but stepped back the moment Max and Caroline emerged like they were witnessing royalty exit a golden throne room.
Max didn't flinch. She gave them a polite, almost bored nod. Caroline followed, her smile a touch cooler now.
They returned to the booth just as their food was being boxed by Earl.
"Got it all packed up for you, stars," he said with a wink. "Figured you'd be chased down soon."
Max winked back. "Earl, you are and always will be my emergency contact."
Caroline took the bag, slid her shades on. "Thanks, Earl. Tell Oleg and Sophie not to hump on the napkin station again."
They made it out just as someone else tried to take a picture through the diner window. Max turned to Caroline as they walked toward the street.
"We do the thing now, right?" Max asked.
"What thing?"
Max struck a pose mid-sidewalk. "Walk slow. Look mysterious. Own the sidewalk like we invented concrete."
Caroline laughed, then matched her stride.
Together, they walked down the Williamsburg block, the city buzzing around them, their faces still playing on ads in the windows behind them. Strangers looked. Whispers chased them. But Max and Caroline kept walking.
...
...
[Titan HQ NY - Alex's Office]
Rachel scrolled through the live preorder dashboard like she was watching the stock market on steroids.
"Five hours," she said flatly. "Five. Hours."
Alex leaned over the back of her chair, arms crossed, eyes scanning the numbers. The Titan Clothing campaign had detonated. Every city with a billboard was seeing foot traffic spikes. Online stores were barely keeping up. The Titan servers had auto-switched to backup twice.
Rachel clicked over to the trending tab. "Angelina's shots are everywhere, no surprise. But Max and Caroline? They're not just holding their own. They're pulling crowds."
She opened the live poll page.
Popularity Poll: "New Era Stars"
Votes: Over 1.3 million and climbing by the second
1. Max Black – 37 percent
2. Angela White – 21 percent
3. April O'Neil – 19 percent
4. Caroline Channing – 17 percent
5. Dianna Agron – 6 percent
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Your girl Max is eating the internet."
Alex gave a quiet smirk. "Good." His eyes were on the numbers 2 and 3. Angelina White and Aprin O'Neil were famous pornstar in his past life, but maybe this time he could change their fates. He made a mental note to send them a few gigs and then maybe meet them in person.
Caroline's name was fourth, but the comment section was packed with buzz about her. Mostly about how "ethereal" she looked and how her vibe gave off "editor-in-chief of the universe." Max's comments were a louder mix of hilarious thirst, insane edits, and a growing cult of personality.
Rachel clicked another tab. Titan Brand Preorders:
Hoodies: 62,000 units
Corset dresses: 49,000
Trench coats: 37,000
Bridal gowns (Max's): Backordered through January
Custom blazer sets: Site crashed for 12 minutes
She didn't even look impressed anymore. Just mildly annoyed. "You realize if we don't triple inventory now, we're going to have lawsuits."
Alex nodded once. "Triple it. Use Paris stock if you have to."
Rachel was already typing.
The side monitor played a silent loop of the Titan ad. The now-iconic close-up of Max's hoodie shot played between Angelina's candle-lit entrance and the twirl scene with Alex. In one of the stills, Max looked like she was judging the viewer. In another, Caroline looked like she had just bought your soul.
Rachel opened one more tab. Fan Forums. The headlines were chaotic.
"Max, please step on me."
"Titan's New Face Just Ended Every Fashion Week Before It Began"
"Alex Wilson's first modeling campaign and it's pure sex"
"Angelina and Alex = Actual Spy Couple Goals"
"He's rich. He's hot. He's tall. Sir, ruin my credit score."
Rachel read one aloud. "'If Alex Wilson fucks me and call me worthless after, I'd still say thank you, Daddy. I've been a naughty girl. I'll do better next time.'"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "That's extreme."
Rachel pointed at another. "This one says 'Golden boy of Hollywood? No. He's the platinum standard of husband material. Daddy-rich. Husband-fine.'"
Alex blinked once. "Are we... encouraging this?"
Rachel looked up at him like he was an idiot. "You're wearing a three-piece suit and slow dancing with Angelina Jolie. Half the world is ovulating. What do you want me to do, block the internet?"
Alex tilted his head, watching the live vote update again. Max's numbers climbed.
"She's about to cross 40 percent."
Rachel nodded. "At this rate, she'll hit Vogue's radar by Friday. And probably SNL's. I've already had calls from Harper's, Vanity Fair, and Elle."
Alex looked satisfied, but quiet.
Rachel leaned back. "Say it."
"Say what?"
"That you knew this would happen."
Alex paused. "I didn't think it would happen this fast."
Rachel glanced at him over her glasses. "She's Max. Of course it did."
He looked back at the screen. Her image, that slight smirk, her hoodie shot, now icon status.
"I just gave her a stage," he said. "She did the rest."
...
[Somewhere in New York] [Unknown Basement] [Late Afternoon]
The basement was cold and dim, lit by a single desk lamp that cast long, twitching shadows.
A wall was plastered with magazine clippings, printed photos, and grainy stills from TV spots. Every single one was Max. Laughing. Smirking. Walking. Posing. Some were ringed with hand-scribbled notes in red ink: GODDESS. MINE. SOON.
The man sat hunched on a metal folding chair, fingers twitching on his knee, eyes glued to the latest Titan ad paused on a grainy TV screen.
"I want her to spit in my mouth," he whispered with an insane grin.
He dragged his hand down the side of his face, sweat-slick and trembling. His breath hitched as he muttered again, louder this time.
"I want her to step on me. Call me garbage. Tell me I'm nothing."
His voice turned soft, almost reverent.
"She's perfect. She's real. She looked right at me. She knows."
His voice was cracked and fast, like he was arguing with someone only he could hear.
"She could crush me. Tear me apart. Step on me like I'm nothing. Mistress Max. Punish your filthy slave."
His breathing got faster. His face twisted into a grin that didn't belong to anyone sane.
"She'll come to me. She'll know I'm the only one who sees her. Really sees her. They all think she's a queen. But she'll be mine."
He reached for the drawer next to him and pulled it out. Inside was a handgun. He picked it up.
---[Words: 3k]
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