The Number One Star in the Interstellar Era

THE runway for EMMA's Chrome Collection was a sleek, glowing strip of light cutting through the darkened venue, creating a stark contrast that drew all eyes to the models as they walked. The atmosphere was electric, with a steady, pulsating beat setting the rhythm for the show. The music, a mix of electronic and industrial tones, matched the sharp, confident strides of the models. The lighting was minimal but strategic, casting dramatic shadows and highlighting the clean lines of the outfits.

The clothes themselves were a bold mix of vibrant colors, featuring deep blues, rich emeralds, striking silvers, and pops of fiery red. Structured blazers with exaggerated shoulders, tailored trousers with precise cuts, and flowing dresses with asymmetrical hemlines dominated the lineup. Each piece played with texture and shape, creating visual interest without relying on flashy details. Every outfit building on the last to create a narrative of bold elegance and power.

Finally, it was time for the finale walk. The music shifted, the beat slowing to a deep, resonant pulse as the lights dimmed slightly, casting a soft glow over the runway. Then, Astrid Townsend appeared.

His black hair, styled in loose waves, framed his face perfectly, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. His makeup was subtle but striking—a touch of dark liner accentuating his black eyes, giving him an almost otherworldly gaze. The outfit he wore was the showstopper of the collection: a sleek, tailored suit in deep crimson, the fabric catching the light with every step. The long trail of the jacket flowed behind him like a river of fire, adding a dramatic, ethereal quality to his walk.

Astrid moved with effortless grace. The combination of his striking yet soft features, the bold red of the suit, and the way the trail seemed to float behind him made him look less like a model and more like a celestial being stepping into the mortal world. The audience was spellbound, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the faint echo of his footsteps.

"Wow, Brother Aster is so pretty…" Nicol murmured, his earlier restlessness completely forgotten as he stared at his cousin with wide, dreamy eyes. He'd been close to complaining, ready to ask when they could leave, but now he was glad he'd held back. Seeing his Brother Aster walk the runway made it all worth it.

Thomas nodded in agreement when he heard his son's praise, his gaze fixed on Astrid as he walked the runway. For the first time, he felt a flicker of gratitude that the prince had taken an interest in his nephew. With a face like that, Astrid had always been bound to attract unwanted attention—advances from people who saw him as nothing more than a pretty face.

Before they had that little family reunion, Astrid had been navigating the industry on his own, vulnerable to anyone who might have tried to take advantage of him. The prince's quiet protection, had likely acted as a shield, deterring those who might have otherwise seen Astrid as an easy target. Thomas still wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of his nephew being romantically involved with the prince, but he couldn't deny that it might have been the very thing that had kept Astrid safe.

Casey, sitting on the other side of Nicol, wasn't overthinking anything. His focus was entirely on snapping photo after photo of Astrid, determined to keep his promise to Emmy by sending her as many as possible. Pride swelled in his chest as he watched his nephew glide down the runway with the confidence of someone who'd been modeling for decades. Astrid moved with such ease and poise, it was hard to believe this was his first major show. Casey couldn't help but grin, his Terminal clicking away, capturing every moment of Astrid's flawless walk.

On the opposite side of the venue, Lauren was also busy taking photos. He planned to send them to Reas, knowing how much his boyfriend would appreciate seeing Astrid's moment, even if he couldn't be there in person. Lauren couldn't help but wish Reas were beside him, sharing in the excitement. He missed him more than he cared to admit. Later, he'd definitely complain to Astrid about it. After all, one of the perks of being friends with your boyfriend's brother was the right to vent a little.

"Lauren, don't make it too obvious that you're taking photos of Astrid," Chris whisper-hissed, leaning closer to him.

Lauren rolled his eyes. "It's not for me, it's for Reas."

"But the people here don't know that," Chris countered. "Just don't be obvious about it."

Lauren resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. Ever since he and Reas had started dating, Chris had become increasingly paranoid. It was as if he thought every person who glanced their way would somehow piece together that Lauren was in a relationship and start scrutinizing his every move. The overprotectiveness was starting to feel a bit excessive.

He sighed. He couldn't really blame Chris—he knew the man was just worried about him. Chris wasn't just his agent; he was more like a big brother, always looking out for him. What Lauren couldn't understand was why Chris seemed to think Reas was the one taking advantage in their relationship, as if Lauren were somehow at a disadvantage. It was completely absurd. Lauren was a few years older than Reas and had far more life experience. If anything, he was the one who should be accused of taking advantage, not the other way around.

Seriously, the three of them needed to sit down and have a proper talk soon—just to clear the air and set things straight.

He turned his head to the left and spotted Snow and Kiran. The two were focused on Astrid's walk. Snow wore his usual cool, composed expression, but the slight tug at the corner of his lips betrayed how much he was enjoying the show. Kiran, on the other hand, was far more expressive. His face lit up with excitement as he watched Astrid, looking like he was barely holding himself back from clapping or cheering out loud.

It had been a while since he'd spent time with the two of them. The four of them—Lauren, Snow, Kiran, and Astrid—really needed to hang out later during the after party.