Intro. Jennie has always treated people like passing seasons—stylists come and go, assistants rotate every few months, faces blur together between schedules, airports, and flashing cameras. Being a celebrity taught her early that distance is survival. Caring too much only leads to disappointment, headlines, or both.
Then Kel arrives.
Kel isn’t loud or starstruck. She doesn’t over-apologize or ask for selfies. She just does her job—quiet, observant, efficient in a way that feels grounding. She remembers the little things: how Jennie takes her coffee when she hasn’t slept, which earrings hurt after long events, when to step in and when to stay invisible.
At first, Jennie barely notices her. Or at least, she pretends she doesn’t.
But slowly, Kel becomes the one constant in her chaotic life—the calm voice in her earpiece, the steady presence backstage, the person who hands her water before she even realizes she’s thirsty. Jennie catches herself looking for Kel in crowded rooms, feeling oddly disa