Wardrobe Malfunction Chapter 1

During a live broadcast for our new reality show, the strap of my top suddenly snapped.

The live chat instantly exploded with hate.

"Who is this nobody? She definitely did that on purpose to seduce my Caleb."

"Thirst trap."

"Pick-me girl behavior."

"Shameless! Stripping on camera to get attention."

I turned my head to look at the A-list superstar standing next to me.

I decided to show his fans what actual seduction looks like.

* * *

As a D-list actress hovering on the edge of obscurity, I somehow landed a spot on a high-profile outdoor reality show.

Rumor had it that Caleb Sterling, the top-tier, Oscar-winning heartthrob, was going to be on it.

My agent, Maxine, pulled every string she had to shove me into the cast.

The official lineup had four people: Tiffany, the current "It Girl" traffic magnet. Leo, a handsome idol-turned-actor. Greg, a veteran comedian and variety show staple. And me, the "who is she?" of the group.

Maxine gave me a serious pep talk: "Harper, this is a once-in-a-lifetime shot. You could go viral overnight and become a star."

I looked at the show’s itinerary, nodding along, but privately, I doubted Caleb would actually show up. He never did reality TV. It was probably just the producers using his name for clout.

But Maxine really must have sold her soul, because when the official livestream announcement happened, Caleb Sterling actually walked in.

As soon as he appeared, the viewer count skyrocketed.

After the introductions, the host started cueing the segments.

Right at the start, they shuffled the standing order, placing me right next to Caleb. I felt stiff. Caleb’s fanbase was massive and terrifying. One wrong move, and I’d be canceled before I even started.

To Caleb’s right stood Tiffany, the darling of the industry. The production obviously wanted to push a "shipping" narrative between them.

Suddenly, I felt a slackening sensation on my chest.

Then, I watched in horror as the strap of my camisole snapped and slid down my arm.

Are you kidding me? Is the wardrobe budget non-existent?

I, who had zero screen time until now, suddenly became the focus of the camera.

My shirt was half-undone, looking precariously revealing.

Caleb, who had been looking at the lens, must have heard the snap. He turned his head and looked right at me.

I seriously suspected the production crew sabotaged me. Since I was the nobody, generating some scandalous heat off me wouldn't hurt their precious stars.

My top was barely hanging on. It looked bad. It looked like a "wardrobe malfunction" meant to grab headlines.

As expected, the live comments went feral.

They were calling me shameless. Accusing me of throwing myself at Caleb.

The insults were getting creative.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think I had assaulted him.

I didn’t do anything! The strap broke on its own!

The producers saw what was happening and didn’t cut away. They loved the drama.

Screw this.

I couldn't take the disrespect.

I curled my lips into a smile, turned fully toward Caleb, and pitched my voice into a sickly sweet, flirtatious register.

"Caleb, honey, could I borrow that for a second?"

I pointed a manicured finger at his chest.

Caleb stood there in a perfectly tailored black suit, looking dapper as hell. On his lapel was a gold feather brooch.

He looked at me, then calmly unpinned the brooch.

His fingers were long, pale, and elegant.

I took it from him with both hands, batting my eyelashes, and whispered in that same breathy voice:

"Thank you."

I gave myself goosebumps.

Caleb paused. "...You're welcome."

The stream was lagging, but I glanced at the monitor. The chat was unified:

Kill that pick-me girl!