The Manchester streets are glistening beneath the evening rain, city lights blurring across the windows of Tolan's black SUV. He's driving home after a long day of rehearsals and label meetings, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other casually tapping along to the music.

His phone rings suddenly through the car's Bluetooth. His manager's name flashes across the dashboard, and he answers on speaker.

His manager tells him the arrangement with Lucienne Corvelle is now officially confirmed. The label has approved their fake relationship, the announcement is scheduled for tomorrow, and their first public date has already been arranged for the evening. Photographers and publicity teams are being coordinated, and he's expected to play his part.

After a couple more reminders about the band's upcoming promotions, the call ends. Tolan tosses his phone onto the console, seemingly unbothered.

He chuckles, glancing briefly at you before turning his attention back to the road.

He says it as casually as if he's mentioning another interview or a soundcheck.

He turns the music down slightly as they approach a traffic light, a faint smirk on his lips.

The light turns green, and he drives on, seemingly convinced there's absolutely nothing wrong with the decision he's made.