In an era when romance is filtered, framed and soundtracked by the algorithm’s audio of the week, it is easy to mistake the performance of love for the real thing. On screen, it looks flawless — effortless, even. But real relationships, especially those lived in the public eye, are rarely so simple. Some days are good and some days things unravel entirely. And to be emotionally open in public, to choose sincerity over putting on a show, is precisely what many public figures are afraid to do.

Ameera Khan and Jefri Nichol are in love. Not in a polished, PR-approved kind of way, but in the raw and honest way two people grow into each other when no one is looking. For celebrities, romance too often becomes a public currency, endlessly dissected and probed. The questions come hard and fast. Is it real? Will it last? But those who have truly loved know this: intimacy does not demand an audience for it to be true.

Sometimes, it arrives quietly — over a hotpot dinner in the heart of Jakarta, at a dimly lit table, with ‘It’s Our Love’ by Thee Sacred Souls bleeding faintly through the walls of a karaoke room next door. For Jefri, that night was not about performance. It was a moment when something unspoken between him and Ameera became real, theirs alone, shielded from external opinions.

That spark began long before the public took notice. “I want to make it clear that I shot my shot first,” Jefri says, grinning like a man still surprised he got the reply. Their story began in 2021, on Twitter. Jefri had stumbled upon a ranking of Malaysia’s most beautiful women. At the top: Ameera Khan. “I replied to a quote on her Instagram story with just one word: ‘REAL’. I sent it the way you message your celebrity crush, not expecting anything. So when she actually responded…” he pauses, smiling, “that was it.”

There is a charm in how the love story of two of Southeast Asia’s most visible stars began with something disarmingly ordinary. Stripped of headlines and follower counts, it could belong to any pair of 20 somethings falling in love in 2025. But theirs unfolded under the relentless gaze of the internet — where to be adored by millions is, paradoxically, to be misunderstood by most.

Ameera knows that weight intimately. She has lived under the spotlight since she was 12, the youngest daughter of one of Malaysia’s most-watched families. “People still call me ‘baby’, which is cute,” she says, “but I’m not frozen in time.” She is referencing the way the public still speaks about her, as a symbol of girlhood, someone to protect, rather than a woman in the process of becoming. “They met me as a child, so they still see me as someone who needs shielding. But I’m 25 now. I know what’s right for me, even if that makes people uncomfortable.”

That tension — between perception and reality, tradition and autonomy — becomes more heightened within the context of Southeast Asia’s deeply conservative cultural landscape. Here, where expectations around womanhood, romance and public image are tightly drawn, being young and visibly in love often provokes criticism rather than celebration. To choose openness in that environment is to be brave enough to be vulnerable. And for Ameera and Jefri, it is also a way of reclaiming their narrative before others can write it for them.

Few understand the performance of public life quite like Jefri. He has built an identity around resisting it. “Life is already absurd, so just do what you want,” he says, quoting Camus like a personal motto. His Instagram bio — absurdiste les existences — reads like his own way of rejecting the scripted, palatable image expected of celebrities.

And yet, with Ameera, something shifts. The irreverence fades. “This relationship is something I take seriously,” he says. “It’s something we’ve kept between the two of us. I’m not trying to prove our connection to the world. What matters is that I prove myself to her.” For someone who has spent years resisting expectation, this feels intentional — a rare place where being seen, fully and privately, matters more than being understood by the crowd.

That shift from public figure to private partner feels sincere. There is a grounded conviction in how he speaks, the kind that comes from someone who has lived through many versions of himself and now, finally, chooses with intention.

While many say love means accepting someone as they are, Ameera sees it differently. “A good relationship isn’t about staying the same,” she says. “It’s about growing. Becoming better, together.” To her, a partner who does not challenge your evolution is not a good partner at all.

Jefri, of course, agrees, though in his own way. “When her baddie aura makes you want to become the most successful man alive,” he says, laughing. “That’s how I knew. She raises the standard for everything — my work, my love, my life.” Before Ameera, he admits, he drifted. “I didn’t care much about what came next. I was chill with whatever. But being with her made me realise there’s still so much I want to become.”

Spend a few hours with them and it becomes clear that this is not curated. Their bond, while still young, already feels grounded. Maybe, as they suggest, it is in the beginnings, full of inside jokes, small gestures, and the growing ache of mutual becoming, where something lasting is quietly built.

“To truly love someone is to truly understand them,” Ameera reflects. “That’s something my parents taught me. Many people claim to love, but they don’t take the time to really know someone.” For her, love lives in attentiveness, in the way Jefri reads her silences and adapts to her unspoken needs.

For him, love is about recognition. “Ameera sees me for who I really am. Not the image, not the headlines, not the noise. Just me. And because of that, I want to become the best version of myself.”

Their relationship, built not on spectacle but in small, private truths, asks for no validation. It is not a performance or a press release. It is a quiet, defiant love. And when you find a love like that, you learn that the only approval worth having is each other’s.

Photography Chee Wei

Creative Direction & Styling Izwan Abdullah

Fashion Coordination Manfred Lu

Grooming Rachel / Plika Make Up

Hair Cody Chua

Photography Assistant Max Ong

Styling Assistants Liew Hui Ying, Asha Farisha, Illy Azman, Aqeil Aydin

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