My Husband Is An International Idol

Chapter 15: The Clarification

Selena Hart was annoyed.

Very annoyed.

Which was unfortunate for the internet.

Because whenever Selena became annoyed, she tended to do something dramatic.

Sometimes it was harmless.

Sometimes it was chaotic.

This time, nobody knew which category it would fall into.

Inside her dressing room, she stared at the article on her phone.

Again.

Then again.

Then one more time.

The headline remained just as ridiculous as before.

"INSIDER CLAIMS CHRIS ST. CLAIRE AND SELENA HART GREW CLOSE DURING PHOTOSHOOT."

Selena looked toward her assistant.

"Do I look stupid?"

The assistant blinked.

"What?"

"Do I look like someone who would flirt during a luxury fashion campaign?"

The assistant considered the question. Then wisely chose not to answer.

Selena sighed.

The internet was exhausting.

Chris was exhausting. Not because he had done anything wrong. The exact opposite.

The man was so professional that it was almost frustrating. The entire photoshoot consisted of work. Nothing else. No flirting. No private conversations. No secret meetings.

Absolutely nothing.

At one point, he had spent fifteen minutes discussing stage lighting with his manager.

Who did that?

Certainly not a man secretly pursuing romance.

Selena opened her social media account.

Her assistant immediately became alarmed.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"You’re posting something."

"Yes."

The assistant looked terrified.

Meanwhile, Chris was halfway through rehearsal when his phone exploded.

Messages. Notifications. Mentions. Hundreds of them.

His manager’s phone began vibrating too. Then another manager’s phone. Then the stylist’s phone.

The entire room seemed to be vibrating.

Chris frowned.

"What happened?"

His manager opened social media.

Then froze.

"Oh."

Chris immediately became concerned.

"What?"

The manager slowly turned the screen around.

A new post from Selena Hart. A verified account with twenty million followers.

The internet equivalent of a nuclear weapon. The post contained a photograph from the photoshoot.

Chris immediately regretted everything. Then he read the caption.

"To clarify: Chris St. Claire is one of the most professional people I’ve ever worked with. The man spent more time talking about concert rehearsals than anything else. Also, whoever invented these rumors clearly hasn’t met him. Please stop creating imaginary love stories. Thank you."

Silence.

Then one of Chris’s bandmates, River, started laughing.

Leo and Aaron joined him.

Within seconds, the entire rehearsal room was laughing.

Chris looked offended.

His manager was laughing too.

"Why is everyone laughing?"

One bandmate pointed at the screen.

"Well, Selena was offended because you’re too professional so she posted online and made you look boring."

"Is that so? It’s work. That’s how you act. Professional. So for the record, I am not boring."

"Well, a little chat won’t hurt. But all you do is work. So you are boring." Leo chuckled.

Chris narrowed his eyes. And the laughter only became louder.

Across the country, the internet immediately changed directions.

Again.

Because the internet possessed the attention span of an excited puppy.

The comments flooded in.

"She rejected the rumors herself."

"Chris spent the entire shoot discussing rehearsals?"

"That’s actually believable."

"This man works too much."

"Someone please force him to take a vacation."

Chris deeply regretted reading comments.

Every single time.

Back in Sterling Village, Emily was having the greatest day of her life.

Because she had discovered the post before everyone else.

Or at least she claimed she did. Nobody believed her.

Emily burst into the house carrying her phone. Again, without knocking.

"LILIANA!"

Liliana looked up from the kitchen table. She was sorting vegetables from the garden.

"What happened now?"

Emily dramatically placed her phone on the table.

"Your husband got friend-zoned by a supermodel."

Liliana stared.

Grandmother stared.

"What?"

Emily pointed triumphantly.

"Read."

Liliana picked up the phone. Several seconds passed. Then she laughed.

The kind that made her shoulders shake slightly.

Emily looked pleased.

"See?"

Chris would probably hate this a lot. Which somehow made it even funnier.

Liliana shook her head.

"Poor Chris. He deserves it."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing."

"Then why does he deserve it?"

Emily thought for a moment.

Then answered honestly.

"I don’t know."

Fair enough.

That evening, Chris called again.

The moment Liliana answered, she could hear voices in the background.

Laughter. Lots of laughter.

"Why does it sound like you’re being bullied?"

Chris sighed.

"Because I am."

Liliana immediately knew why.

"The post?"

"The post."

She laughed.

Chris sounded deeply offended.

"Everyone keeps calling me boring."

"You are a little boring."

The silence that followed was spectacular.

"Excuse me?"

Liliana smiled.

"You spend your free time reading reports."

"That’s responsible."

"You organize spreadsheets."

"That’s efficient."

"You color-code schedules."

"That’s smart."

Liliana laughed.

Chris realized he was losing this argument badly. And he hated that she was right.

The following week passed quickly.

Rehearsals intensified as the concert date grew closer.

Every day became packed with work. Dance practice. Recording sessions. Costume fittings. Photoshoots. Interviews. Meetings.

Chris barely had time to breathe. Yet somehow, he still calls Liliana every night.

Sometimes for ten minutes. Sometimes for thirty. Occasionally longer.

Neither mentioned it. Neither needed to.

It simply became part of their routine..A habit..A comfort. A piece of their normal life hidden beneath fame and distance.

Meanwhile, Liliana remained busy in Sterling Village.

The garden was thriving. The house remained spotless.

Grandmother continued visiting her, enjoying the unexpected internet fame.

And Emily continued causing problems naturally

On a particularly quiet afternoon, Emily appeared once again. This time carrying snacks. Which was unusual.

Liliana immediately narrowed her eyes.

"What do you want?"

Emily looked offended.

"I brought food."

"What do you want?"

Emily sat down.

Then smiled. The one that always led to trouble.

"I was thinking."

"That’s never a good sign."

"How many women do you think have confessed to Chris?"

Liliana nearly dropped her gardening gloves.

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

"Just estimate."

Liliana refused.

Emily persisted.

"Ten?"

"No."

"Twenty?"

"No."

"Fifty?"

"No."

Emily’s eyes widened.

"More?"

Liliana buried her face in her hands.

Because unfortunately, the answer was probably yes. Much more. Far more than she wanted to think about.

Emily looked fascinated.

"You are stronger than me."

"I know."

"I would lose my mind."

"I know."

Emily sighed dramatically.

Then looked toward the sky.

"Being married to a celebrity sounds exhausting."

Liliana considered that..Then smiled.

Yes, sometimes it was exhausting. It was frustrating. Because she missed him so much that it hurt.

But despite everything, she wouldn’t change it. She would still choose him.

Far away in the city, Chris was currently standing on a concert stage during rehearsal. Sweating. Exhausted.

He was putting extra effort with the upcoming concert because Liliana and her cousins would be there.

Meanwhile, in a crowded office building downtown, a certain journalist was staring at a photograph.

The reflection in the supermarket window shows Chris reaching for a young woman’s hand.

The woman had thick glasses and her brown hair tied in pigtails.

The journalist slowly smiled. Then picked up his phone.

At last. He had found someone willing to talk. And if that person was telling the truth, the biggest celebrity secret in the country was about to explode.