The True Rumor
"Why would I care about rumors when I know the truth?" ➡️ Y/n sits behind the camera while Glen does an interview with Daisy Edgar-Jones and starts to worry when the internet blows up with comments thinking they’re a couple. Glen notices that she’s acting different afterwards and asks her why.
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The fluorescent glow of the studio lights hummed, a stark contrast to the thrilling chaos of the Twisters set Glen and I had visited just weeks ago. I sat on my usual stool, just out of frame, the camera’s red ‘record’ light a steady, reassuring pulse next to my ear. Today’s interview was with Daisy Edgar-Jones, Glen’s co-star, and the air was light, almost buzzing with the energy of a successful movie run. Twisters had blown up, not just at the box office, but across every social media platform imaginable. Everyone was talking about it.
Glen, perched comfortably on a plush armchair, his usual Texan charm turned up to eleven, grinned at Daisy. She sat opposite him, her posture elegant, a thoughtful smile playing on her lips. From my vantage point, they looked… good together. Professionally good, of course. They had an easy camaraderie, a shared experience etched into their expressions that only comes from months of intense work.
“Daisy, welcome! Thanks for joining us,” Glen began, his voice warm and inviting. “So, Twisters has been absolutely insane. The fan reaction, the box office – were you prepared for this kind of whirlwind?”
Daisy chuckled, a soft, melodic sound. “Oh, Glen, no one could truly prepare for it, could they? It’s been incredible, really. Getting to bring such an epic story to life, and with such a fantastic team… it’s been a dream.” She glanced at him, a genuine appreciation in her eyes. “And working with you was certainly an adventure.”
Glen’s smile widened, a flash of genuine delight. “The adventure was all mine, my friend. Seriously, though, what was the most surprising thing about filming in those conditions? The practical effects for the tornadoes were just mind-blowing.”
“Definitely the sheer scale of everything,” Daisy responded, her brow furrowing slightly in thought, “and the dedication of everyone involved. You know, I’ve always been drawn to stories that connect us to the raw power of nature, and this film really hammered that home. It’s humbling, isn’t it?”
Glen agreed, nodding. “It makes you think about how small we are. And speaking of raw power, your performance, Daisy, was incredible.”
Glen had his energetic explanations and self-deprecating jokes that made her comfortable. Daisy, with her thoughtful responses and quiet intensity, brought a different kind of warmth. Every now and then, Glen would lean forward, his eyes alight with passion for the project, and Daisy would meet his gaze, a respectful understanding passing between them.
I knew Glen. I knew his public persona was naturally magnetic, designed to make everyone feel included, to make them laugh. He was a “living stress antidote,” as one magazine put it, and it was true. Off-camera, that same vibrant energy often focused on me, on our life together. But watching him now, through the lens of a camera I was operating, it felt… different. Or maybe it was just my perspective shifting.
The interview wrapped up, handshakes exchanged, and Glen immediately turned to me, his smile softening. “Alright, Y/n. How’d we do?”
“Perfect, Glen. You two were great,” I said, giving him a thumbs-up, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. My stomach, however, was starting to churn.
Glen and I had left the studio afterwards and grabbed some dinner from a restaurant close to his apartment. The entire time I was able to not show on my face how much that interview today kinda threw me for a loop. And thankfully he didn't notice until we got back home that is.
Later that evening, the internet was a wildfire. I’d seen it coming, a slow burn during the interview, and now a raging inferno. My phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications, not just from my own social media, but from the various fan accounts I followed, the entertainment news sites, the gossip pages.
“Glen and Daisy in ‘Twisters’ interview: Their chemistry is undeniable!”
“New IT couple alert? Glen Powell and Daisy Edgar-Jones set the internet ablaze.”
“The way he looks at her… it’s giving sparks!”
“Forget the tornadoes, the real storm is the love triangle. #GlenAndDaisy”
I scrolled, my thumb numb, past endless GIFs of them laughing, stills of their shared glances, edited videos set to romantic music. Comments piled up:
“They need to just get married already.”
“This is the real romance. Sorry to his rumored girlfriend, but…”
“He’s never looked this happy with anyone else.”
“Daisy’s just so sweet and grounded, perfect for Glen’s wild energy.”
My breath hitched. Rumored girlfriend. That was me. Y/n. The one who watched him climb trees on set just to get a better view, the one who cooked with him in our kitchen while Brisket snored at our feet, the one he called every night to recap his day. I felt a cold knot tighten in my chest.
Daisy was kind, thoughtful and had that quiet beauty about her. She was everything the internet was describing as ‘perfect’ for Glen. And me? I was just… me.
Suddenly, my own confidence felt like a flimsy paper kite caught in the wind. I knew Glen loved me. I believed it with every fiber of my being. But seeing it twisted and compared by thousands of strangers, it chipped away at my certainty. And I have never been insecure of myself in my life, my parents raised me to love every part of myself and not care about what others think.
That didn’t change when I started dating Glen - until tonight while I was laying on the couch scrolling through my phone with a grim expression. Brisket, our scruffy Terrier/Poodle mix, was curled up on the rug, oblivious. Glen’s face was still alight from the day, that infectious optimism radiating off him. He’d just finished a call with his agent.
“Hey, stranger,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to his side when he sat on the couch. “You’ve been quiet since we got back. Everything alright? That interview was a blast, right? Daisy’s a pro.”
He tried to give me a playful nudge, but I flinched, pulling my phone closer. “Uh - Yeah. I’m just tired.”
He sat back, his brow furrowing slightly. His usual easy smile faded, replaced by that keen observant look he reserved for me when he sensed something was truly off. “Y/n? What’s going on? You’re acting… different.”
I sighed, a long shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “It’s… nothing, Glen - Glen, no!” I tried to dismiss it, but the lump in my throat was too big.
He gently pried my phone from my hand, his eyes quickly scanning the screen. He saw the headlines, the comments. His jaw tightened, and he let out a soft groan. “Ah, here we go.” He put the phone down on the coffee table, then turned fully towards me, taking both my hands in his.
“Glen, it’s really nothing. I swear.”
“Talk to me,” he urged, his voice soft but firm. “What are you thinking? What are you feeling?”
“It’s stupid, really,” I mumbled, with some tears welling in my eyes. “It’s just… the comments. Everyone’s saying you and Daisy… that you’d be perfect together. That you have this ‘undeniable chemistry,’ that you’ve never looked happier. Am I… not enough, Glen? I know it’s just acting, and I know your public persona is amazing, but… is there a part of you that wishes it was real?”
The words tumbled out, raw and vulnerable, expressing the insecurities I’d been battling all evening. I braced myself for… I don’t know what. A laugh? A dismissive wave of the hand.
Instead, Glen pulled me into a tight hug, his arms strong around me. He held me for a long moment, letting me breathe into his familiar scent – a mix of his cologne and something uniquely Glen. Then he pulled back slightly, holding my face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking my cheeks. His eyes, usually dancing with amusement or ambition, were serious, full of a fierce intensity that was solely for me.
“Y/n, Look at me.”
“Glen-“
“You’re telling me that a bunch of internet strangers, who spend their lives shipping actors because they like a movie, somehow know more about my heart than I do?” He shook his head, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him. “That they know more about us than we do?”
“I don’t know. I mean you and Daisy seem to have good chemistry on and off screen so-“
“Listen closely, because this is the truth. Why would I care about rumors when I know the truth? The truth, Y/n, is that Daisy is an incredible talent. She’s kind, she’s thoughtful, she’s dedicated. And we had amazing professional chemistry, because that’s what actors do. We create connections on screen to tell a story. But that’s where it ends.” He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. Until he eventually pulled back just enough to look at me again. “The truth is you’re the one who understands my ridiculous need for Texas football. You’re the one who laughs at my bad cooking experiments and still pretends they’re edible. You’re the one who knows which exact spot Brisket likes to be scratched to get that little leg twitch. You’re the one I come home to. Not my co-star.”
“I’m sorry for getting so emotional about this.” Raising one of my hands over my eyes I wiped away the tears that had fallen down my face.
His hands moved from my face to cup the back of my neck, drawing me closer. “You didn’t have to impress anyone to earn your place in my life, Y/n. You are the calm in my storm, the home I always want to come back to after all the whirlwind. My life with you? That’s not a performance. That’s my reality.”
“You, Y/n,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine, “are the one for me and I love you.”
Grabbing the front fabric of his shirt I deepened the kiss and he reciprocated by gently pushing me onto my back on the couch, only breaking our long kisses to catch our breath. “I love you too.”
