Monday

"We are truly sorry, Byron. I'm sure it was a huge misunderstanding," Yasmin said, her voice tinged with shame as she recalled Friday's incident.

"I'm sure someone is behind this... prank? I guess you could call it that," Sasha added, offering her usual confident reassurance.

On the other hand, Cloe was mumbling about her wildest theories—everything from an evil force coming for Burdine to alien conspiracies.

"All I'm saying is, I can't believe someone would just throw paint on her like that. I mean, I get it, but why? Burdine hasn't done anything wrong recently. Cloe, please, sit down. I can't stand seeing you run around and theorize about something that DIDN'T happen," Byron said, gently placing his hands on Cloe's trembling shoulders.

The truth was, Byron couldn't help but feel a strange relief about the situation. It had been a long road filled with obstacles to get him closer to his longtime adversary. "Adversary" was a strong word, though. Their dynamic had always been more like something out of a romance novel—two celebrities feuding over trivial things, yet underneath it all, there were miscommunications and a longing to be near each other. That time when Damon played with her feelings? It wrecked him. Byron longed for a part of himself that he felt he lacked—confidence. It took a lot of guts to sit next to someone like Miss Maxwell. Her towering presence, elegance, charm, and even her ruthlessness—these were just some of the traits that stood out to him. It wasn't until their brief exchange in Paris that the realization hit him.

"There's something about her," Jean-Paul had said. "People who have everything don't crave more. She's got the face of a million bucks, but she's still stealing the boyfriend of one of my guys. There's someone like that in Stilesville too."

"Are you talking about Burdine Maxwell?" Byron had asked, going pale.

Jean-Paul laughed. "I knew it. Someone's got a little crush," he teased.

Byron had denied it, but that encounter in Paris had made him think. Now, as he watched Burdine walk into the room with her canine companions, everything clicked. She was here, and the questions began to swirl in his mind.

Back in the present, Sasha's voice broke Byron from his thoughts. "Byron? Are you there? Earth to America Rocks' host?"

"Oh, sorry," he muttered, shaking his head. "I must've missed my coffee. I'm just so exhausted. Can we discuss this tomorrow?" he suggested, scattering the team to wrap things up.

"Byron, we don't schedule discussions. You come here, and we'll talk. Anytime," Jade reassured him.

The car ride home was tough. Byron had always struggled to balance his mental health with his career—being recognized everywhere, constantly surrounded by the press, barely getting any sleep, staying on substances to stay awake, never pausing for rest. At nearly 50, he was still working full-time, taking on side gigs, conducting interviews, promoting clients, and more. He cared so much about others, but he was neglecting himself. Last month, his friends had forced him to spend a week in the ER after he'd jokingly mentioned wanting to end his life. He took deep breaths, his emotions threatening to spill over. But no amount of breathing would solve the problem. The tears came—heavy, like a waterfall. This wasn't just burnout; it was something deeper. Byron was hiding a secret, one that had the potential to change everything in his life.