The next morning, Gael woke up to sunlight spilling across the ceiling.
Haley Dunphy.
The kiss.
He stared at the ceiling of his penthouse apartnt quietly.
Then groaned into a pillow.
"This is such a terrible idea."
Unfortunately, terrible ideas had a way of becoming very attractive when wrapped in dark hair and sarcasm.
His phone buzzed against the nightstand.
Unknown Number.
Gael already knew who it was before opening it.
[Hey, app guy
this is haley
I stole your number from your friend's phone because privacy is a social construct]
Gael snorted.
A second ssage appeared imdiately.
[Also, you kiss very confidently for soone emotionally suspicious]
He typed back.
[Good morning to you, too.]
Three dots appeared instantly.
[Oh, wow, he can text
incredible
truly a pioneer of modern technology]
Gael smiled.
[I try to stay humble.]
She typed back.
[impossible for a millionaire]
This felt dangerously easy already.
That was the problem.
He knew Haley's personality so well from years of watching the show that talking to her felt almost unfair. He knew:
-what made her laugh,
-when she was insecure,
-when she used humor defensively,
when she secretly wanted reassurance.
And she had no idea.
Part of him wondered whether this crossed so invisible ethical line.
Another part of him rembered the way she had leaned into his kiss last night.
That part was much less ethical.
His phone buzzed again.
[Are you free today?]
Gael stared at the screen for a second.
Canon was already collapsing.
He could still pull back now.
Keep a distance.
Avoid entangling himself with people whose futures he already knew.
Instead, he typed:
[Depends.
Are you planning to rob ?]
[only emotionally]
He laughed quietly.
Yeah.
He was dood.
By noon, Gael was sitting outside a café in West Hollywood wearing sunglasses and pretending not to notice how often people glanced at him.
Being young and rich ca with a weird form of visibility.
Tech blogs had turned him into a recognizable face over the last year:
{"Teen Founder Sells Loop for Nine Figures"}
He hated every article.
Haley arrived twelve minutes late, carrying oversized sunglasses and iced coffee.
"No paparazzi?" she asked dramatically while sitting down.
"I requested a slow news day."
"Rude."
Up close in daylight, she looked softer sohow. Less party-girl confidence. More natural.
More dangerous, honestly.
"You actually ca," she said.
"You sound surprised."
"I wasn't sure if you were one of those mysterious rich guys who disappear after kissing soone."
Gael leaned back slightly.
"Was the kiss that forgettable?"
Haley pointed at him imdiately.
"See? That confidence. It's criminal."
"You texted first."
"That's irrelevant."
Gael laughed softly.
The waitress approached, and Haley ordered sothing absurdly expensive while pretending not to notice the price.
Gael noticed anyway.
Not because he cared about the money.
Because he rembered how Haley always did that little hesitation before ordering things around wealthy people.
Like she didn't want to seem impressed.
"You know," she said after the waitress left, "my dad Googled you this morning."
Gael nearly choked on his coffee.
"Why would your dad Google ?"
"I ntioned eting you."
"That was your first mistake."
Haley grinned.
"He likes you already."
"He doesn't know ."
"He read an article that called you 'disciplined and visionary.'"
"That sounds fake."
"It absolutely sounded fake."
Gael rubbed his forehead.
Phil Dunphy already knowing about him this early sohow made everything feel more real.
Sooner or later, he'd et the whole family.
Claire.
Jay.
Gloria.
Manny.
Luke.
Alex—
His thoughts paused briefly there.
No.
Too early.
Way too early.
He pushed the thought aside imdiately.
Haley studied him over the rim of her drink.
"You do that a lot."
"What?"
"Disappear into your own head."
Gael smiled faintly.
"You're observant."
"My mom says I weaponize people's facial expressions."
"That sounds concerning."
"She's usually right."
Of course she was.
Claire always noticed more than people expected.
The thought lingered longer than it should have.
Unfortunately.
Haley leaned forward slightly.
"So what's your tragic genius backstory anyway?"
"There's a tragic genius backstory?"
"You're legally required to have one."
Gael looked out toward the street for a second.
How exactly was he supposed to explain:
I died in another universe and woke up inside your sitcom?
Instead, he settled on partial truth.
"I got obsessed with building things early," he said quietly. "Most people around cared about parties or sports. I cared about code."
"That sounds incredibly unhealthy."
"It was."
"And now you're rich."
"And now I'm tired."
That answer made her pause.
Not because it sounded dramatic.
Because it sounded honest.
For the first ti since sitting down, Haley's teasing expression softened slightly.
"You know," she said quietly, "you don't act like people I've t with money."
"Is that good?"
"I think so."
The waitress returned with their food.
Haley imdiately stole fries off Gael's plate without asking.
He stared at her.
"You know those are mine."
"Our fries now."
"That's socialism."
"You survived."
He shook his head, amused.
God, this was comfortable already.
Too comfortable.
That scared him more than anything else.
Because he knew how this story went for most people around Haley.
Temporary relationships.
Miscommunication.
Emotional chaos.
But sitting across from her now, sunlight catching in her dark hair while she smiled over stolen fries—
She didn't feel fictional anymore.
She just felt like a girl he wanted to keep looking at.
Which was infinitely more dangerous.
Three hours later, Haley sat in the passenger seat of Gael's black Aston Martin staring openly at the interior.
"This car is offensive."
"That sounds dramatic."
"The seat has a cooling system."
"You noticed quickly."
"My car barely has air conditioning."
Gael smirked slightly while driving through Beverly Hills.
"You're adapting to wealth surprisingly fast."
"I was born for luxury."
"That explains the confidence."
Haley grinned before glancing at him again.
There it was.
That look.
The quieter one she gave when she stopped joking for a second and simply watched him.
"You know," she said, "I thought you'd be arrogant."
"I am arrogant."
"No." She shook her head lightly. "Not like that."
Gael didn't answer imdiately.
Because, unfortunately, he knew what she ant.
He treated people like they mattered.
Not because he was a noble person.
Because dying once changed the way you looked at human connection.
Even a fictional human connection.
His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
Still couldn't believe that sentence made sense.
"You hungry?" he asked finally.
Haley blinked.
"We literally just ate."
"I ant later."
"Oh."
A slow smile appeared on her face.
"Maybe."
Gael smiled faintly.
And sowhere in the back of his mind, one terrifying realization kept growing stronger.
He wasn't playing with a fictional tiline anymore.
He was falling into soone's real life.
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