He Called Me Needy, Then Lost

For seven years, I sacrificed my career to be the invisible woman behind my rising star boyfriend, August.

But on our anniversary, I watched him on a livestream, openly flirting with his co-star, Alana, while the internet hailed them as the perfect couple.

His fans sent me death threats, calling me "forgettable" and "unworthy." When I begged him for help, he called me "needy" and told me I was "overreacting."

Yet, when Alana faced the same online hate, he held a press conference, fiercely defending her as a "vulnerable artist."

The man who dismissed my suffering was now a champion against injustice for another woman. I realized he wasn't incapable of empathy; he just chose not to direct it at me.

I wasn't just forgettable. I was a fool. So I packed my bags, blocked his number, and booked a one-way ticket out of his life, ready to finally stop being invisible.

Chapter 1

Bailey Glass POV:

"After seven years of sacrificing everything for August, watching him flirt with Alana on a livestream that was supposed to be our anniversary celebration punched a hole straight through my chest."

My reflection stared back at me from the dark TV screen. Seven years. That' s how long I' d been the invisible woman behind the rising star. Tonight, the TV was supposed to be showing our favorite rom-com, maybe with a glass of cheap celebratory wine. Instead, it was a portal to a world where I didn't exist.

August was late. Again. It was our anniversary. Not that he' d remember. Or care.

My phone buzzed. Not him. It was a notification from a entertainment blog. "Alana Edwards and August Carter: The Chemistry You Can't Ignore!" The headline screamed, mocking me. I tried to ignore it. I really did. But my thumb, almost against my will, tapped the link.

It opened to a live stream. Alana, all sparkling eyes and a dazzling smile, was perched on a plush sofa. And there was August, sitting way too close, laughing at something she'd said. The comments section exploded with heart emojis and calls for them to get together. "Alaugust forever!" someone typed. 'Alaugust.' The portmanteau stung.

A knot tightened in my stomach. This wasn't just a work event. This was their night. Her face, framed by expertly styled hair, leaned in. His hand, the same hand that had held mine through countless red carpets, was casually resting on the cushion right behind her. Too close. Everything was too close.

My own face felt hot, then cold. I scrolled through the comments, a masochistic ritual I couldn't stop. "Who's August's girlfriend again? Some graphic designer? So forgettable." "She's Hollywood's most forgettable girlfriend. Alana is the real deal!" The words were like tiny, sharp needles pricking at my skin. Forgettable. That was me.

They were talking about their show, about their "undeniable connection." Alana batted her eyelashes. August chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that once belonged only to me. My anniversary. He was supposed to be