BRING IT CLOSER 🎇 ━━ OO. PROLOGUE ❛ love's gonna get you killed

but pride's gonna be the death of you and me ❜

𝓟RIDE ━━ 𝒗ol I.
𝒊. ✧ prologue

THE AIR buzzed with excitement as the red carpet, a glittering pathway lined with flashing lights and cheering fans, stretched before them like a stage waiting to be conquered. Celebrities posed for photos, their glamorous outfits and polished smiles reflecting the grandeur of the night. But among the glitz, one couple seemed to draw every gaze, their magnetism undeniable.

Isadora Miller, a vision in a pastel gown, practically floated across the carpet. The dress hugged her curves with perfection, the structured corset adorned with shimmering pearls and delicate sequins that danced in the light. The heart-shaped center was whimsical, romantic, and suited her effortlessly. Her golden hair, styled in loose waves, framed her radiant face, while her bright blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and mischief. The whispers of the crowd fell away as she walked, all eyes drawn to her grace and beauty.

Nicholas Chavez stood by her side, towering over her with a height difference that only made their dynamic more striking. At 6 feet tall, his lean, athletic frame dwarfed Isadora's petite figure, adding an extra layer of protectiveness to their closeness. She barely came up to his chest, even in her heels, and the way he leaned in to close the distance between them only made the difference more noticeable-and endearing.

He moved with easy confidence, the tailored black suit he wore fitting him like a second skin. His eyes never strayed far from Isadora, as if he were guarding something precious. He was close-maybe a little too close-but neither of them seemed to mind. In fact, they seemed to gravitate toward each other naturally, their bodies always touching. His arm brushed hers as they walked, and their hands kept finding each other, fingers intertwining with an ease that spoke of deep familiarity.

"Do you think anyone's even watching the awards?" Isadora teased, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, her voice soft but playful as they paused for another round of photos. Nicholas grinned, leaning down so close his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Doubt it," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "Not with you stealing all the attention."

Isa rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her enjoyment. She gave him a light shove, her hand barely reaching his arm, which only added to the playfulness of the moment. "Oh, please. If anyone's stealing the spotlight, it's you with that suit, you're very attractive, do you know that ?."

"Is that why you keep holding on to me?" Nicholas teased back, his hand sliding gently down to rest at the small of her back. He pulled her closer, just enough for the contact to be comforting, intimate.

She gave him a sidelong glance, feigning annoyance but doing little to distance herself. "Don't flatter yourself, Nicky. I'm just making sure you don't trip and embarrass us."

"Right, right. I'm sure that's it," he laughed, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of her back ever so slightly. It sent a small shiver up Isadora's spine, a feeling she pretended not to notice. As they continued posing for photos, Nicholas's arm never left her, holding her close as if she might slip away. He couldn't help but adjust the strap of her dress when it slipped slightly, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. "There. Can't have you looking anything less than perfect tonight," he whispered, his voice low and affectionate. Isadora's heart fluttered at the simple but tender gesture, her pulse quickening at the soft touch. She leaned in, brushing her shoulder against his, feeling the way his height enveloped her, as if she could lean into him and disappear from the noise of the world.

"Careful, Chavez," she murmured, her voice teasing but laced with affection. "People might start thinking you're obsessed."

"Who says I'm not?" Nicholas replied, his grin turning mischievous as he gently tilted her chin up with his fingers, making the gesture feel even more possessive, almost protective.

Their chemistry was palpable, the crowd around them fading into the background. They moved as one, every glance and touch communicating a depth of connection that made it hard to tell where the performance ended and their true feelings began. Nicholas caught her hand again, this time holding it tightly, unwilling to let go.

"You do realize you're clinging to me like I'm going to run away, right?" Isadora teased, raising an eyebrow but making no effort to pull away. She was comfortable here, in this space where it was just the two of them.

Nicholas smirked, his thumb brushing small circles on the back of her hand. He had to lower his head slightly just to hear her above the noise of the crowd. "What can I say? I like keeping you close, Dora."

The way he said her nickname, so soft and familiar, made her heart skip a beat. It was in moments like these, when they were wrapped in each other's warmth, that Isadora forgot about the cameras, the fans, and even the awards show itself. It was just him and her, tangled up in each other like they always had been.

"Don't let it get to your head, Nicky," she whispered, leaning in closer, her lips barely reaching his cheek. "But I like keeping you close too."

He smiled, a rare softness in his expression as he squeezed her hand. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."

With that, he pulled her in, lowering his forehead to rest gently against hers, their height difference making the gesture feel even more intimate. Isadora closed her eyes for a second, letting herself feel the warmth of his presence, the way his hand rested possessively on her waist, as if he were anchoring her in place. For all the teasing and jokes, there was something real between them, something unspoken but undeniable.

As they continued down the red carpet, hand in hand, the brightness of the flashing cameras felt overwhelming to Isadora. What had started as an exhilarating night, basking in the limelight and feeling the comforting presence of Nicholas by her side, began to feel heavy, like a performance they had to keep up.

Her smile remained picture-perfect, but the edges of her joy started to fray. The crowd cheered louder as they approached a group of reporters, and her fingers tightened around Nicholas's hand. She stole a glance at him, expecting to find the same playful spark in his eyes that had been there earlier, but something felt different. His gaze wasn't fully on her anymore; it flickered between the cameras, the crowd, and something else she couldn't quite place.

A wave of unease rolled over her, though she tried to brush it off. It's just the chaos of the night, she told herself. But the feeling lingered, gnawing at her.

"You good, Nicky?" she asked softly, leaning into him slightly as they slowed their pace for more photos.

Nicholas didn't respond right away, his expression subtly tightening as he glanced at something off to the side. "Yeah, of course," he finally replied, the tone casual but distant, as if his mind was elsewhere. He offered her a quick smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Isadora's brows furrowed slightly, her playful demeanor faltering. She tilted her head up toward him, lowering her voice so only he could hear. "You sure? You seem... distracted."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, almost like a laugh, but there was an edge to it. "It's just a lot, you know? Crowds, cameras. Us."

Us. The word hung in the air between them, heavier than it should have been.

Isadora's smile tightened. "Well, we've done this a thousand times before, haven't we? No big deal." Her voice was light, trying to steer the conversation back to the easy banter they always shared, but the tension had settled in now, unmistakable.

Nicholas nodded, but his grip on her hand loosened. She felt the shift, the space he was starting to put between them even though they were still physically close. The warmth from earlier began to cool, and for the first time that night, Isadora felt a crack in the perfect image they were presenting to the world.

The reporters up ahead called out their names, and Nicholas gave her a quick glance, something unreadable in his expression. "Ready for more?" he asked, his tone back to playful, but his energy felt forced, the charm they were known for now tinged with something unresolved.

She nodded, though the knot in her stomach tightened. They were still standing side by side, still smiling for the cameras, but it no longer felt effortless. As they reached the reporters, Nicholas's arm slipped from her waist as he turned to answer a question, his attention suddenly elsewhere. Isadora's fingers brushed against the fabric of his jacket, instinctively reaching for him, but she stopped herself. Instead, she smiled for the cameras, the crowd, the fans. But beneath that polished exterior, a small fissure had formed-one that she knew wouldn't stay hidden for long.

The night progressed, and the excitement of the event surrounded them, yet Isadora couldn't ignore the growing distance between her and Nicholas. At first, it was the little things-his grip on her hand loosening, his eyes wandering to everything but her, the way he would smile for the cameras but never quite look her in the eye. It bothered her, gradually spoiling the warmth of the evening.

The clinking of champagne glasses echoed as they finally found a moment away from the cameras, tucked near the edge of the venue. Isadora leaned against a pillar, watching the party unfold, the glamour of it all losing its shine with every passing minute.

Nicholas stood beside her, scrolling through his phone, his brow slightly furrowed. It was the third time that evening he had pulled it out, and Isadora's patience was running thin.

"Nicky," she began, her tone light but with an edge of frustration, "are you planning to join me at this event, or is your phone your date tonight?"
Nicholas glanced up, a faint smirk on his lips. "Sorry, just catching up on some stuff. You know how it is."

Isadora's eyes narrowed slightly, her voice still casual, but the tension creeping in. "Catching up on what, exactly? We're at an awards show, not a board meeting."

He shrugged, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "Just emails and stuff from the team. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "Right. I'm sure whatever's on your phone is way more important than the hundreds of people watching us right now." Nicholas's expression shifted, his playful demeanor fading. "What's that supposed to mean?" Isadora crossed her arms, her eyes locking onto his. "It means you've been checked out all night, Nicky. You're here, but you're not really here."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Come on, Dora. You're overreacting. It's just-these events, they get to be a lot, you know?"

"A lot?" Isadora echoed, her voice rising just a fraction. "You used to love these events. The attention, the cameras, all of it. And now suddenly it's too much?"

Nicholas's jaw tightened, his eyes flicking away from hers. "Things change, okay? I don't have to love it every time."

Isadora let out a breath, her frustration bubbling over. "Yeah, I get that things change, but you could at least pretend to care. You're not the only one walking this red carpet, Nick. We're supposed to be a team."

His eyes snapped back to hers at that, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "A team? Is that what this is? Because lately, it feels more like a competition."

The words hung between them, sharp and cutting. Isadora's heart clenched, but she refused to let the sting show. "A competition?" she repeated, her voice steady, but her eyes flashing. "You think I'm competing with you?"

Nicholas's silence was enough of an answer. He looked away, jaw clenched, frustration evident in every line of his face.

Isadora's voice softened, but there was a steel edge beneath it. "You know I've worked my ass off to get here, just like you. Don't act like I'm trying to outshine you. I've been by your side the whole way."

Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, his irritation mounting. "It's not about that, Dora. It's just... you're always pushing. Always focused on the next big thing. And sometimes it feels like I'm just along for the ride."

Her chest tightened, a mix of hurt and anger bubbling up. "So now it's my ambition that's the problem?"

He didn't answer immediately, and the silence spoke louder than words. Isadora's eyes bore into him, her frustration reaching its breaking point.

"You know what, Nick?" she said, her voice colder now. "If me being ambitious is such a burden for you, maybe we're not as much of a team as I thought."

Nicholas looked at her, his gaze hard but conflicted. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?" Isadora pressed, her voice louder now, the tension between them palpable.

Nicholas opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He was at a loss, caught between his frustration and the realization that their playful banter had shifted into something much more serious.

For a long moment, they stood there, the noise of the event fading into the background as the space between them grew.

Isadora's eyes searched his face for something, anything, that would make this conversation feel less like the beginning of an unraveling. But all she found was the same tension mirrored in his expression.

"Maybe we should just... get through tonight," Nicholas finally muttered, his tone resigned.

"Yeah," Isadora replied, her voice flat. "Let's get through tonight."

As the tension mounted between them, the glitzy noise of the event seemed to fade into the background for Isadora. Her hands were clenched into tight fists, her heart pounding in her chest, but she wasn't ready to explode-not yet. She needed to get through this night without turning it into a spectacle. This was their world, and she knew how easily their private lives could be spun into media drama. However, her silent wish was quickly shattered when a reporter, sharp-eyed and predatory, slid into view, her microphone extended like a weapon.

"Isadora! Nicholas! Can we get a quick word? You two have been the talk of the night," the reporter chirped, a gleam in her eyes as she leaned in, sensing the undercurrent of tension between them.

Isadora forced a smile, but she could feel her pulse quicken. She hated this part of their lives-the scrutiny, the prying questions, the way their every glance and word was analyzed as if they were on a stage performing a never-ending act. She could sense Nicholas tensing beside her, and she willed him to keep his cool.

"We're just here to enjoy the night," Nicholas said, his voice controlled, polite, as he placed a gentle hand on Isadora's back. For a moment, the pressure of his hand was reassuring, a familiar comfort amidst the chaos. His protective warmth made her heart flutter, reminding her of the Nicholas she loved-the one who could shut out the world for her.

Isadora leaned into him slightly, hoping they could get through this together. She wanted to believe in that, in them. Her heart ached with the memory of how good things used to be. Maybe things could still be okay, she thought, clinging to that sliver of hope.

But the reporter wasn't about to let it go easily.

"Come on, now," she persisted with a coy smile. "Everyone's talking about that little spat earlier. People are curious-there's been a lot of speculation about whether the pressure of your careers is getting to you both. Care to comment?"

Isadora felt her stomach twist. She stole a glance at Nicholas, silently begging him to brush it off, to keep the peace. They couldn't fall apart here, not in front of the cameras. But she could see the shift in his face, the tension in his jaw, the way his smile grew tighter.

"No comment," Nicholas said, his tone hardening just a fraction, eyes narrowing slightly. "This isn't about that. We're here for the awards." She hoped his calm would hold. But she knew him too well, knew that look in his eyes when he was about to snap.

The reporter raised an eyebrow, clearly unsatisfied with his deflection. She leaned in closer, her microphone now nearly brushing Isadora's lips. "But how do you both manage the public eye, especially when there's so much speculation about your relationship? People can't help but notice when things get... tense."

Isadora's heart started to pound harder, a familiar sense of dread creeping in. She hated how they were always reduced to gossip, to rumors and headlines. This wasn't what she wanted tonight to be about. Not now. Not like this.

Nicholas's grip on her back tightened for a moment, but then his hand dropped. The warmth she relied on vanished, replaced by an unnerving coldness. Her heart sank.

"I said we're fine," Nicholas's voice was sharper now, irritation creeping into his words. He wasn't talking to her, but Isadora felt the sting all the same. "Not everything's a headline. Maybe the public should focus on the awards for once."

She winced internally, knowing that tone, knowing how the reporters would latch onto his frustration. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to defuse the situation with her own, cooler response. But the reporter wasn't backing down, and worse, Nicholas's patience was fraying before her eyes.

The reporter, sensing an opening, raised an eyebrow. "It's just that... tensions always seem to follow you two lately. Some wonder if maybe, this relationship is... wearing thin?"

Nicholas's expression darkened, his jaw ticking as he stared down the reporter. But before he could snap back, Isadora jumped in, her voice laced with forced sweetness. "Maybe some people should mind their own business."

She shot Nicholas a glance, her heart hammering in her chest. The the moment was slipping away, spiraling out of control.

Nicholas met her gaze, but his eyes were hard, colder than she'd ever seen them. "Are we really going to pretend everything's perfect?" His words were quiet but pointed, as if they were meant only for her, yet the crowd of reporters and flashing cameras made them feel amplified.

Isadora's stomach clenched. She felt the weight of his words settle heavily on her, each syllable cutting deeper than any public scrutiny ever could. She forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Nicky," she whispered, a plea hidden in her tone, hoping to diffuse the situation before it spiraled any further.

But Nicholas wasn't backing down. He looked at her, the frustration evident in his gaze. "Maybe we should stop pretending," he said, his voice loud enough for the reporter to hear, his hand falling completely away from her now.

The smile on the reporter's face widened, sensing the spectacle she had been waiting for. The cameras zoomed in, and the energy around them shifted. The crowd, once focused on the awards, now honed in on the unraveling tension between Isadora and Nicholas.

Isadora's chest tightened, her heart racing as the full gravity of the moment began to sink in. She could feel the sting of betrayal, not just from Nicholas but from the entire situation. He's really going to do this.

Right here.

Right now.

She swallowed hard, forcing her emotions back down as best as she could. The lump in her throat was nearly choking her, but she couldn't let herself crack-not in front of the world. "Maybe you're right," she shot back, her voice quieter, but steady enough to stand her ground. "Maybe pretending has been your specialty."

Nicholas blinked, the sharpness of her words catching him off guard. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the reporter interrupted, sensing her moment to seize control.

"So, is this the end of the road for the two of you?" The reporter's tone was almost gleeful now, her microphone thrust closer, seeking the juicy headline she had been hoping for. "Are we witnessing the last red carpet appearance of Isadora and Nicholas as Hollywood's golden couple?"

Isadora's blood boiled. She could feel the eyes of the crowd on them, waiting for the explosion. She wanted to scream, to pull Nicholas aside and fix this away from the prying eyes, but instead, she could feel the cracks growing larger. It wasn't just about the cameras, it wasn't just about the media-this was their real life, and it was falling apart in front of them.

Nicholas, for the first time, hesitated. He glanced at Isadora, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had already been done. He looked back at the reporter, and his tone, now calmer but colder, cut through the air like a knife. "Maybe we need to stop trying so hard to live up to what everyone expects of us."

Isadora's breath hitched. His words felt like the final blow. She had expected a fight, but she hadn't expected him to give up. Not like this, not in public.

The silence that followed felt deafening. The flashing cameras, the murmurs from the onlookers-it all faded into the background as Isadora stared at Nicholas, her heart shattering. She wanted to respond, wanted to defend them, to fight for what they had, but the weight of the moment was too heavy. Her voice caught in her throat, and all she could do was stand there, the world crashing down around them.

Nicholas turned away first, his jaw set, leaving Isadora standing there, feeling exposed and alone.

author's space !!

let's all say it out loud : ISA DID NOT DESERVE THAT TREATMENT !!! nicholas you were a bitch but you are so hot so that's okay 🙏