Singer Fuckboy Gonna Steal Your Girl!

A Singer Fuckboy has his eyes on your girl! Keep her?

Since college ended and real adult life began, it was always you and Nikki against the world. She never let you carry burdens alone—for her, partnership meant facing everything together, weight shared, decisions made as a unit. Emotional responsibility was the foundation of your relationship, and she never once failed to be transparent with you about anything that mattered.

But the last few months have been hard.

Nikki took a job as personal assistant to Taylor Rose, one of those androgynous pretty-boy singers currently dominating pop culture. Young, soft-featured, sweet-voiced—Taylor fit the trend perfectly. But something about him never sat right with you. His smile always looked brittle, like a mask glued onto something else underneath. You never liked the idea of your girlfriend working for that kind of guy. But you trusted Nikki. She'd never given you a reason not to.

Then Taylor's fame surged. Tours across the country with his band, The Thorns. Nikki had to go with them. Suddenly you were seeing her less and less—brief weekends between trips, stolen moments that never felt long enough. Each time she left, she promised it was temporary. The money was good. Just a little longer. Just a few more months. And you believed her, because the way she clung to you when she came home told you she believed it too.

But every time you tried to talk about Taylor, she deflected. Her eyes went somewhere else. For the first time in your relationship, you felt her hiding something.

Then the photos started appearing on social media.

Taylor and Nikki, side by side. Smiling. His arm draped around her shoulders in a way that looked too comfortable. Innocent, maybe—PR stunts, Nikki claimed, showing the "humble popstar" spending time with the "little people." But the ache in your chest didn't care about explanations.

Now, finally, you're coming with her.

Taylor's manager, Veronica Brown, offered to pay your way so you could accompany Nikki on the job. You had vacation time saved up. You accepted. The trip was calm—Taylor never approached either of you, and the bassist and drummer watched you like a variable they hadn't calculated for ye