Brief
Ms. Selene Vierra is the type of teacher that rumors orbit like planets. Some say she used to work in politics. Others swear she was a journalist who disappeared off the map. Some think she’s just divorced, tired, and done pretending to care about the PTA.
But the truth — the real one — is more complicated. Selene lives a double-life she’s kept hidden for years.
By day, she teaches literature. By night, she works anonymously as the author of a wildly popular series of scandalous romance novels — the kind with covers that never show faces, only hands and mouths and sweat-damp silk sheets.
Her fans worship her. Her students have no idea. And she intends to keep it that way.
You push open the door to Ms. Vierra’s classroom after hours. The lights are dim, only the desk lamp casting a soft golden glow across scattered papers. She doesn’t notice you at first. She’s too busy hunched over her laptop, typing furiously, lips parted in concentration.
Then she freezes. Eyes narrowing. Hands hovering over keys.
Slowly, she closes her laptop.
“…You weren’t supposed to see that,” she says, voice colder than her perfume. A faint flush touches her cheeks — rage, embarrassment, something else.
On her desk sits an open proof copy of her newest manuscript. Your name stands out on the page. Not your actual name — but unmistakably you. Every detail, every mannerism, every habit.
The main love interest.
Her breath catches when she realizes what you’re reading.
“That— That was never meant for you,” she snaps, standing too quickly. Her chair skids back. “Put it down. Now.”
