Unfiltered Romance

The next morning, Vivien awoke to the relentless buzzing of her phone. She groaned, pulling the blanket over her head, but the notifications were unrelenting. With a resigned sigh, she reached for her phone, her heart sinking at the sight of her screen flooded with alerts.

The top notification was from Chloe:

"Check Instagram. Now."

Dread pooled in Vivien's stomach as she unlocked her phone. The first post she saw was a slow-motion clip of their fall into the pool from the night before. Someone had set the moment to a dramatic violin crescendo, captioning it:

"When love pushes you over the edge—literally. #VivienAndRen"

She groaned aloud. "Perfect."

As she scrolled further, it became clear that the internet had taken their unscripted tumble and turned it into a full-blown phenomenon. Fan edits, memes, and reaction videos flooded her feed.

One TikTok featured the scene with the caption:

"Enemies-to-lovers? Check. Accidental pool moment? Check. Santorini sunset? We're obsessed."

Another was a compilation of their "best moments," including the gala argument, the cooking mishap, and now the pool incident. The creator had added a voiceover dripping with romantic flair:

"They started as rivals, clashing at every turn. But in the golden light of Santorini, something changed."

The comments ranged from playful to downright ridiculous:

"Vivien and Ren are living in a rom-com, and we're just watching it unfold."

"When will they realize they're perfect for each other?!"

"If these two don't end up married, I'm suing someone."

Vivien tossed her phone onto the bed and buried her face in her hands. "Why me?"

The hashtags were relentless, trending across multiple platforms:

#VivienAndRen

#UnfilteredMoments

#PoolsidePerfection

On Instagram, someone had posted a side-by-side of their pool moment and a still from a classic romantic movie, complete with the caption:

"Hollywood could never."

Another tweet read:

"This campaign is about authenticity, and I'm convinced their romance is the real deal. #VivienAndRen"

Vivien opened TikTok again, reluctantly diving into the comments section.

"The way Ren looks at her after they fall? That's love, people."

"Enemies-to-lovers trope IRL. Someone write the book already!"

"Vivien's glare at 0:12 is everything. She's so done, and I love her for it."

Her notifications buzzed with messages from fans and acquaintances alike. Chloe's text was the most direct:

"Congrats, you're a meme. Again. Call me when you're done freaking out."

Her mother's message was more subtle:

"Saw the clip from your campaign. Ren seems… entertaining. Call me when you have a moment."

Vivien sighed deeply, dropping her phone onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. It was barely 9 a.m., and she was already exhausted.

---

Across the villa, Ren lounged on his private balcony, the salty breeze tousling his already messy hair. He leaned back in his chair, one leg propped up on the railing as he scrolled through his endless stream of notifications. Unlike Vivien, who he assumed was spiraling over the online frenzy, Ren seemed to be thriving in the chaos.

He grinned at the sheer creativity of the internet. A particularly ridiculous meme caught his attention—someone had photoshopped angel wings onto both him and Vivien, mid-pool tumble, with the caption:

"When Cupid's arrow isn't enough, push them into a pool."

Ren snorted, saving the image for later. "Gotta frame that one," he muttered to himself.

Swiping over to TikTok, he discovered a fan edit that had already racked up millions of views. The video seamlessly cut between dramatic slow-motion clips of their fall, synchronized to a romantic ballad. It ended with a shot of him leaning casually against the pool's edge, water dripping off his shirt, while Vivien stood behind him, glaring daggers. The caption read:

"The Notebook, but make it Santorini."

Ren burst out laughing, nearly dropping his phone. The internet had officially gone rogue.

As Ren's laughter subsided, his phone buzzed with a text from his manager:

"Killer content. You're winning hearts left and right. Keep it up."

Ren smirked, typing a quick reply.

"All in a day's work."

His manager responded almost instantly.

"Seriously, though. The #VivienAndRen hashtag is pulling huge engagement. LuxLife is thrilled. They're already talking about extending the campaign."

Ren paused, his smirk fading slightly. Extending the campaign? That meant more time with Vivien—and while the idea wasn't entirely unpleasant, it did complicate things.

Ren set his phone down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazed out at the endless expanse of the Aegean Sea. The waves rolled lazily toward the shore, their rhythm steady and calming.

Normally, he didn't overthink moments like last night. They were part of the job—creating buzz, leaning into the "chemistry," giving people something to talk about. But the pool incident had felt… different.

He replayed the moment in his mind: the laughter, the unfiltered joy on Vivien's face, the way she'd splashed him with water while trying not to smile. It wasn't staged or scripted. It was real.

Ren wasn't used to that. Most of his life revolved around playing a part, being the guy everyone wanted him to be—funny, charming, effortlessly cool. But last night, with Vivien, it had felt like he could just exist without putting on a show.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Ashford," he muttered. "It's just a campaign."

But even as he tried to brush it off, he couldn't deny the lingering warmth in his chest—a feeling he hadn't expected and wasn't sure how to handle.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Ren found himself scrolling back to the same fan edit. He watched it again, this time focusing on Vivien's expression. The way her eyes widened in surprise as they fell, the brief flicker of a smile as she splashed him—it was captivating in a way he hadn't noticed before.

"Who knew the Ice Queen had a laugh like that?" he murmured to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips.

The thought surprised him. Vivien had always been a mystery to him—a tightly wound ball of ambition and control, with walls so high he doubted anyone had ever scaled them. But the cracks were starting to show, and what he glimpsed beneath was… intriguing.

Ren's phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Kira:

"Morning! The pool shots are gold. Can't wait to show you the final edits. Keep up the 'magic.'"

He chuckled, typing a quick reply.

"Magic's my middle name."

But as he put his phone down again, he couldn't shake the feeling that this campaign was becoming more than just a job.

Later that morning, as he made his way to the villa's shared kitchen, Ren's mind was already working. If people were eating up their moments of chaos, why not give them more?

He smirked at the thought, grabbing a cup of coffee and leaning against the counter. The key was to find the balance—keeping things authentic without pushing Vivien too far. After all, her patience with him was already hanging by a thread.

Still, a part of him couldn't resist the challenge. Vivien brought out something in him—a spark, a sense of mischief, a desire to see what lay beyond her perfectly curated facade. And if the internet loved it, all the better.

Ren sipped his coffee, his grin widening as an idea took shape.

"Let's see how far we can take this, Hart," he said to himself.

---

The Morning Meeting

"Okay," Sarah Cho said, practically bouncing with excitement as she addressed them in the villa's airy living room. "Last night's moment is officially our most successful content yet. Engagement is off the charts, and we haven't even started the next phase of the campaign."

Vivien sat stiffly on the couch, her arms crossed. "That's great," she said, her voice flat. "But it wasn't planned."

"Exactly," Sarah said, gesturing toward her tablet, which displayed their skyrocketing metrics. "That's the beauty of it. People are responding to the authenticity. This is what they want—moments that feel real, unscripted, relatable."

Vivien frowned. "So, what? We just let chaos take over?"

"Not chaos," Sarah corrected. "Connection. The kind of moments that show you're human. That's what's resonating with people. Trust me, this is exactly what the campaign needs."

Ren leaned back in his chair, smirking. "See, Hart? Turns out my disasters are good for business."

Vivien shot him a glare but didn't argue.

Sarah continued, "Our next shoots will lean into this energy. Less about perfection, more about unfiltered moments. People love seeing the two of you together—it's relatable, it's funny, it's genuine."

Vivien sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. But no more pool stunts."

Sarah grinned. "Agreed. Though, for the record, the pool stunt is trending everywhere."

---

After the meeting, Vivien and Ren found themselves sitting by the pool, the bright Santorini sun reflecting off the water.

"You know," Ren said, breaking the silence, "this isn't the worst thing that's happened to you."

Vivien raised an eyebrow. "Being turned into a meme? Again?"

Ren chuckled. "Hey, memes are free publicity. People love us." He paused, then added with a smirk, "Well, mostly me. But you're benefiting by association."

Vivien rolled her eyes. "You're insufferable."

Ren leaned back on his hands, his expression softening. "Come on, Hart. You've got to admit, it's kind of fun. For once, we're not trying to be perfect. We're just… us."

Vivien hesitated, her gaze drifting to the pool. "It's risky. People might start thinking this is more than just a campaign."

"And what if they do?" Ren asked, his tone more serious than she expected.

Vivien turned to him, surprised by the question. "What do you mean?"

Ren shrugged, his smirk fading into a thoughtful smile. "I mean, maybe it's not the worst thing in the world for people to see us like this. Authentic. Real."

Vivien didn't respond right away. For all his teasing, there was an honesty in his words that unsettled her, made her question the lines they'd drawn between work and something else entirely.

For the first time, she wondered if leaning into the chaos wasn't just good for the campaign—it might be good for them, too.