Chapter Text
I sat on the closed toilet lid, dabbing at my eyes. I wasn’t crying, my eyes were just watering because of my headache. I’ve been having more migraines lately, but I haven’t had the time to get it checked yet. This week alone I’d been swamped Monday to Saturday with scheduling issues. Re-filming an entire day’s work because the main lead had a breakdown when he saw a rat on set barely made the top five of the list. And that was just my professional life. My personal life was its own dumpster fire, even tougher to handle seeing as how I didn’t have a team of ADs and assistants to help me.
And now that I’d finally had a day off, I had to attend this Gala. Because of course.
So here I was, dabbing at my eyes as I waited for the Tylenol to kick in. I pluck a second tissue from the pack in my clutch and toss the old one in the trashcan. At least it wasn’t infected, now that would’ve been a pain.
God, I would kill for a drink right now-
“I can’t believe someone would just show up uninvited. It’s so rude”
“It is.”
Ugh. Teenagers. This is Not what I need when I’ve already got a migraine and a discharging prosthetic. I would guess the nasally voice belonged to Tanya Stokes. Her voice had that perfect timbre to aggravate headaches. And to think her parents wanted her to attend The Royal Academy…...
Thankfully the girls came in to touch up their make up, so they leave pretty soon. Unsurprisingly, my headache begins to fade soon after. I’d have stayed a few more minutes, but a notification pops up on my phone.
[We’re taking pictures. Come out.]
Right. I get to my feet and exit the cubicle, checking my reflection once before I get back to the party. As I’d been warned, the event photographer was calling out instructions to get a good picture, and I slip in next to my fiancé like I’d been right there all along.
He takes it in stride and slides his arm around my waist, hand on the curve and smile in place. We stay in that pose for a few flashes of the camera before the photographer thanks everyone and begins moving away to find her next subject.
“Is everything okay?”
His question surprises me. He doesn’t usually ask about me when I step away from his side. In fact, half the time he couldn’t care less where I’m gone as long as I didn’t make him look bad.
“Yes. Everything’s fine.” A beat passed, and then he blinked and the small lines of tension on his forehead smoothed out.
“Alright. Stay close, we haven’t spoken to the Stokes yet.” And just like that, whatever curiosity I’d thought he might’ve had, has vanished. I nod and join him as we wander around the ballroom, stopping every now and then to chat with the other guests.
It's not long before the Stokes find us, Mr. Stokes strutting up to me with his arms wide open for a hug like we’re the best of friends. Every time I try not to cringe when he gives me that big squeeze. Over two decades I’ve been subjected to those hugs, but still, I stiffen a bit every time. Unexpectedly Dante intercepts the hug, and I delicately peck Mrs. Stokes on the air next to her cheek instead.
Mr. Stokes claps Dante on the back (I can see him biting back a grimace) and Mrs. Stokes returns my greeting in kind. When Dante’s arm slips back around me, I lean in a little in thanks. We exchange pleasantries for a few minutes before Mr. Stokes brings up the dreaded subject.
“Bethany, I’ve been meaning to tell you about Tanni’s new single, I’m sure you’ve heard it. Very new age, kids love it “Mr. Stokes puffs up as he speaks of his youngest daughter.
“Of course she’s heard it Wendall, everyone’s heard it” Mrs. Stokes was aiming for a casual air but the excitement shone through in her eyes.
I hadn’t heard it. I rarely heard anything that released after 2013 if I were being perfectly honest. But I nod like I know exactly what they were talking about.
“Oh yes, of course. Very catchy tune” I lie through my teeth, hoping I wasn’t off the mark with my guess. She’s a teenager who wants to be the next big pop star, what other sort of music would she make if not catchy.
“She’s got good rhythm, that one. Say, do you think you’d like to be in the music video?” Mr. Stokes suggests magnanimously while I try not to shudder at the thought.
“There’s going to be a music video?” I try to deflect
“Well of course, our darling Tanni’s just giving the fans what they want. She said she’d really like for your insight in the making”
Oh no. They want me to make their daughter’s music video.
“I would love to help out
-I’d rather eat my own socks-
“- but I’m a bit behind schedule so I’m not sure I have much time to be really involved in her project. Tell you what, I’ll connect you with someone I know. Total genius, he’ll be perfect.”
I’m going to foist some poor intern on them and pray they don’t nag me afterwards. It’s the best I can do without out right rejecting them.
Mr. Stokes looks a little disappointed and Mrs. Stokes seems ready to argue but thankfully her husband placates her with a hand on her shoulder. They settle for the contact I promise them and shuffle away after conversing with Dante a little more, Mrs. Stokes loudly muttering about my attitude. I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. Dante just seems amused over all, downing his third champagne flute tonight.
“That went well.” He mutters against the lip of the glass, but I heard him anyway. I look heaven-ward for patience I don’t find before we move onto the next guest.
After nearly two more hours we finally make our way out into the night and wait for the valet to bring the car around. My fingers itched to pull out a cigarette and take a long drag but I’d been cutting down so I clench my hands together and try not to fidget too obviously. Dante was checking his notifications with a bored expression and his free hand comes to wrap around my shoulders, giving me a small squeeze unconsciously in that way that someone does to check if the other was still there. I suppose I did wander away a lot. Still, it was comforting, which I wouldn’t usually expect from him. I’ll take what I can.
The car arrives and we both slip in on each side and I shut my eyes before the driver even takes off. I slide my heels off and rub my feet and twiddle my toes, savouring the small freedom after hours of being restricted.
“Do your feet hurt?” Dante murmurs, snapping me out of my quiet daze. I open my eyes to look at him as I answer,
“A little” my nod points to the silver heels lying on the floor “worth it though.”
He gives the heels a dubious once-over and shrugs, neither agreeing or disagreeing. He sinks deeper into the seat with a small sigh. Looks like I wasn’t the only one tired tonight.
“Want to come over tonight?”
His question gives me pause. We were both obviously tired so what exactly did he expect we’d do in his penthouse? The few times I’d stayed the night at his place it went a certain way, but I really wasn’t in the mood for all that tonight, so now I had to make up an excuse we both knew was a lie. Before I could say anything though he adds
“We could just relax and a have a bite, nothing too exerting after that gala”
Oh. Well, that sounded pretty perfect actually. Bit out of the norm for us, but it seemed worth a try. I was just about to accept his invitation when my phone lights up with a notification.
Shit.
“I’m sorry, something just came up with work…. Raincheck?”
I try to look apologetic and not annoyed, because I really did want to go with him. He just shakes his head, acquiescing without further explanation. As usual. I really was glad he was so calm about everything.
“Raincheck.”
His car stops at a curb, and I step out. I lean back through the open doorway, halfway out of the car when I turn around to bid him goodnight. He must’ve had the same idea, as he leans in at the same time, our noses accidentally knocking into each other. We both pull back simultaneously, a small chuckle ringing between us, before I lean in to peck his cheek.
“Goodnight Dante”
“Goodnight Beth”
I’m out of his car and in mine a few seconds later, furiously dialling a number as I clip in my seatbelt.
“Where are we going?” Randy, my driver asks, catching my eye through the rear-view mirror.
“Mickey’s”
Without another word we’re off.