Substitute Bride

d up by the Arrivals doors. She checked her phone. 10:28. Flight LS-446 from Heathrow: Landed. A stampede of girls rushed past her, squealing, nearly taking her out. Posters, phones, light sticks. Th

sed nice "just in case of paparazzi." Habit. Or armor. She wasn't sure anymore. Time to introduce herself. Time to play the dutiful wife. --- Blaze Reigns knew the drill. White sneakers, black joggers, oversized tee with his own face on it - stylist's idea of "off-duty." Rolling carry-on. Six-hour flight from London. Jet lag chewing at his bones. He was used to this. The screaming. The reaching hands. The way his name turned into a chant. He flashed them the smile - the one that sold magazines and broke hearts. Dimples. Teeth. Practiced charm. "Blaze! I love you!" "Sign my poster, please!" "Blaze, look here!" His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, wedging between two girls to answer. "Yo, Richie. Nice hearing from you again, man." Richard. Liam's secretary. Liam's shadow. Liam's _everything_. "Nice hearing from you too, Mr. Reigns. A pickup is waiting for you outside Arrivals." Blaze stopped walking. The crowd pressed closer. "Wait. Liam sent someone? After ghosting me for three years? He remembers he has a brother now?" "Yes, sir." A laugh burst out of him, sharp and disbelieving. "Woah. That's... nice of him." He hung up and picked up his pace, dragging his suitcase faster. Home. Finally. Maybe Liam was ready to talk. Maybe- "Blaze, just one signature!" "Blaze, I named my cat after you!" The circle tightened. Pens thrust at him. He signed three, then five, then ten. His arm ached. His head pounded. _This is the downside of fame,_ he thought. _No managers, no security, because I