#gray fic

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” you argue, “I put in the order weeks ago. A red bow. I have the receipt– I mean sure, pink or red doesn’t matter to me but it’s not my birthday.” 

“We’ll see what we can do,” the woman relents. It’s not exactly a triumph but as close to as you can hope. If it’s pink, you’ll just have to take the fall. The damn fondant will be devoured by the night’s end anyhow. 

You hang up with a double tap on the ear pod and your playlist resumes. You go back to trying to uncover the shape caked in layers of muck, turning the brush to chip away the rougher bits with the pointed tip. The work is tedious but it has to be. You can’t risk damaging the relic nestled inside. 

The abrupt chiming of your ringtone once more sounds through the bluetooth earpiece. You huff and hit the pod with the heel of your hand. You greet the call with only your name. 

“Are you still on site?” Your boss, Arturo asks. 

“Yep, still here,” you still your hand and twist your arm, pulling back the end of your glove to see your watch, “just a bit longer. You know I have that thing tonight.” 

“Uh, yes, I recall,” he says dully as you hear paper shuffling, “you got time to chat?” 

“Sure,” you keep the cluster of dirt and the brush in one hand and use your other to push yourself to your feet, “I just gotta catalogue this before I finish the day.” 

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” he begins as you carefully walk between the cordoned off patches. The whole place is a maze of where and where not to step. You go into the tent and put down the half uncovered idol. It’s brittle, made of hide and yew, with a bit of bone. “Lucia is pregnant.” 

“Oh? That’s great,” you furrow your brow, wondering what that has to do with you. 

“Means she can’t travel for a while. She’s adverse to long term commitments at the moment so…” 

“So…” you trail off as you label the mound of dirt and make notes for the next day. 

“So, you want her assignment?” 

“Which one?” You peel off your gloves and shake off the excess filth. 

“Norway. It can be a bit dingy but the landscape is nice.” 

“Norway? For how long?” You close up the ledger and tuck it away on the shelf. You pass between the tables of artifacts as you pull out your phone. 

“Could be a while but I figured you never get to go very far. You’ve been pent up in-state for so long, you could use the vacation.” 

“Oh? Well, I…” you scroll through your phone and see the notifications. Emails confirming delivery, messages asking if everything is sorted. “I’d have to think about it…” 

It’s evasion more than indecision. You know you don’t want to go. You can’t go. Your whole life is here. You have an apartment and friends and… Steve. Your best friend.  

“Make sure you do think about it. It’s a great opportunity. Especially for a junior anthropologist. Lucia won’t be on leave forever.” 

“I know. I’ll think about it.” 

You hang up and pluck the earbud out. Ugh, you’re covered in dirt and dust. You don’t have time to go home and shower. You knew you wouldn’t. You have to be at the venue before everyone else. You can change there and try to wash up in the sink. Whatever, no one’s going to be looking at you anyway. It’s Peggy’s night. Yay. 

You lock the fence and tug one last time to make sure it’s secure. You drag your boots across the thinning grass to your car parked on a stretch of gravel. You drop inside and hit start. You connect to the bluetooth and get some tunes going. You buckle your seat belt as you check the mirrors. You’re probably going to have to speed there. 

You back out as the music blares from the speakers. It’s not loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Why did you agree to this? Peggy doesn’t even like you. Oh, but she likes Steve. She is his girlfriend and you are only his best friend. You’re supportive. You keep your mouth shut and smile. 

Ugh. You squeeze the wheel until your knuckles hurt. You know why you offered to help plan the surprise. You’re pathetic but you’re not delusional. It meant you got more time with him. There hasn’t been much of that since Peggy came along, not just the two of you. 

Classic, isn’t it? In love with your best friend. Friends since college. Friends forever, you vowed naively, thinking that forever would never come. Nothing lasts that long, you can only hope to outlast Peggy. 

And if you don’t, maybe this crush will finally run its course. 

💟

Red and white streamers decorate a long table set with trays. There’s a banner over it that reads ‘Happy Birthday, Peggy’, and a stack of gifts already forming in the corner. Guests drift in with anticipation as you hurry around to check off all the items on your list. 

You fix a small vase of flowers, trying to hide the droopy one in the back, and tug a wrinkle out of a tablecloth. You smile and wave at those who are early as you weave between them. You pull out your phone and lean it on the clipboard angle in the crook of your elbow. They’re on their way, okay. Keep it cool. 

As you come to the kitchen door, you nearly collide with someone else. Sam touches your arm gently as he keeps you from tripping backward. You gasp and hug the clipboard with a wobbly grin. 

“Hey,” you greet breathily, “you’re here.” 

You look down at the guest list and check him off. 

“Ah, figured I’d make an appearance,” he kids, “Rogers would take it pretty rough if his best pal wasn’t here.” 

“Please, don’t start that with Bucky again,” you warn as you point the pen in his direction, “the two of you, in fact, are seated separately.” 

“No fun!” He whines dramatically. 

You scrunch your lips at him and peer around. Yes, none of this has been fun. Caterers, servers, tables, space, food! Yes, you were going to check on the cake. Your sole squeaks as you twist sharply and go to slam your hand into the door. 

“Hey,” Sam blocks your way with his arm, “before you disappear, you’re still wearing your boots.” He points to your feet, “in case you’re wondering about the snail trail.” 

He sweeps his finger up in a gesture alluding to your previous path. You glance over at the dirt littered in your stead then down at your dusty boots. You sigh and hang your head back. 

“Fuck!” You snarl. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a broom,” he assures you, “while you take a breath. You need it.” 

“I can’t, Sam, they’re already on their way. I still have to get everyone in their place and… quiet,” you scowl, “ugh, this is gonna be so bad. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“So… why’d you do it?” He asks as he drags his hand away from the doorframe. You look at him and blink slowly. You shrug. 

“I’m a good friend,” you insist. 

He gives a skeptical hum and nods, “sure are,” he grumbles, “too good, if you ask me.” 

You throw up your hand before turning into the kitchen. You don’t have time to worry about him. Is he jealous that you’re helping Steve so much? Or does he know something else? You don’t let the seed sprout as you nearly cry out at the sight of the cake. 

A pink bow. Jeez. Of course. You check the cake off your list, nearly tearing through the paper. It’s better than nothing, even if Peggy never settles for less than the best. 

There’s no time to complain or send it back. Your phone vibrates again. Five minutes. Your heart is racing. Why? This isn’t even your party. You just want it to be perfect for Steve. You hate to disappoint him. Ever. 

You really shouldn’t care that much but you do. Like so many other things in your life. 

💟

The crowd can't keep quiet. There's a low buzz that ripples through the guests. A wave of anticipation that's spread like a deadly virus. 

You feel a nudge in your side and peek over as Bucky sends Sam a sneer and wriggles in place. Those two never let up. You hiss at them to quit and they look as guilty as a pair of unruly children. 

"He keeps tickling me," Bucky whispers. 

"No, I'm tryna fix his hair, look at this mess," Sam flicks a strand away from Bucky's cheek, "this is a nice event, Buck, not your living room." 

"Both of you," you warn.  

"You're bitching at me when Indiana Jones here brought the dig with her," Bucky mutters. 

You look down. Dammit. You still didn't change out of your boots. You roll your eyes. It's not about you. It's Steve's night. Er, Peggy's.  

You shake out your nerves and shake your head, "you two," you step behind Bucky and insert yourself between the men, "behave." 

"Yes, mom," Sam snickers as Bucky groans and tries to smooth the few shanks that have slipped free of his low ponytail. 

You exhale and give an exasperated look to the door. You really can't handle them on top of everything else. You just want this night to end already. All your hard work and you won't even get to enjoy any of it. 

"Everybody," Natasha hisses as she runs away from the doorway, "they're coming." 

The group quiets, as much as they can, a collective bated breath as you wait and listen. The lull is unbearable as the heat of the bodies around you pricks sweat down your neck and across your scalp. The door begins to open, almost as if in slow motion, and as the guest of honour is revealed, you cry out. 

"SURPRISE!" The eruption of the chorus has your head spinning as Peggy gives a melodramatic swoon, grabbing at Steve's arm as she leans on him heavily. 

She parts only to fan her eyes and squeal. "Oh my god, you guys!"  

She teeters on her heels as people holler happy birthday and her group of girlfriends flutter over to wrap her up in a cacophony of giggles and preening. You smile, a bittersweet twitch in your cheek as you watch her spin back to Steve and pull him into a kiss.  

You're happy for them really, proud to see all your effort come to fruition, but you just feel so hollow. For an instant, you think it should be you right there, gushing in glee over the celebration of another year, with Steve beside you.  

You gulp down the jealousy and wiggle your nose to ward away the tears. That's a stupid thought. If it hasn't happened in more than a decade, it's not going to happen now. 

💟

As the guests disperse into their own conversations, you finally manage to wade through to the happy couple. You approach with a small wave at Steve. He doesn't see you, he's watching Peggy as she chats with Natasha. 

"Hi," you call above the din, "so, you like it?" 

Steve turns to you, confusion stitching his forehead before he registers your questions. He nods and gives a smile, "it's amazing, you did so good!" 

The sparkle in his eyes, the perfect line of his jaw, the way he's looking at you, it makes your heart rend. You tilt your head and dig your toe into the floor bashfully, "thanks. I'm so happy to see it come together." 

"Um, the cake," he brings his index finger up, "I was hoping to bring it out soon." 

"Er, yeah, it's back in the kitchen. About that–" 

"Great," he claps your shoulder and brushes by you, "just gonna put the finishing touches on it." 

"Hm, what do you–" 

He's gone before you can finish your question. You deflate just a little, setting your feet flat as you sway aimlessly. The motion hooks Peggy's attention. You give a sheepish smile as you wring your hands. 

"Oh, uh, just came over to wish you a happy birthday," you chirp, "are you enjoying it?" 

"Ah, I didn't see you here, I thought maybe you were busy…" she gives a pointed look to your boots, "working." 

"Um, yeah, no," you fidget, "always happy to come support you two." 

"Where is Steve?" She gazes past you, shouldering by dismissively, "he was just…." 

Right. You nod and flit away in embarrassment. You can't say you ever got along with Peggy. Where you're accommodating, she's a bit too demanding. Different people, but you don't dislike her. You just don't mesh. Or perhaps it's just that you don't get what Steve sees in her. Especially when you're right there. 

Enough. This isn't about you or your stupid dumb heart. Just smile and go with it. 

The kitchen door swings open, a noise barely discernible above the hue, and the rattling wheels of a cart underline the steady drone. A lull washes over the crowd as they part. You move with the tide and face the sudden divide. 

A hush falls over the room as Steve pushes the cake across the floor. He stops before Peggy as she faces him, another feigned pout of surprise. He grins proudly at her as you stare curiously at the top of the cake. 

"Oh, pink?" She comments on the fondant bow as her eyes flick over to you. She quickly corrects herself an admires the double tiered dessert, "Steve, it's so pretty." 

You know she hates the colour. You recall the one time you wore a pink bow in your hair and she made a similar comment. Cute, she remarked in her roundabout way in her oh so sophisticated accent. 

You manufacture a smile and step closer as Steve beckons to the guest. Tension stills the air, almost paralyzing the crowd. You squint at the heart shaped box perched atop the bow. 

"Is this for me?" Peggy asks if it's not obvious. 

Steve nods, his cheeks tinting pink, as you notice how he wipes his palms on his pants. Peggy delicately takes the box from the pedestal of fondant and your ribs ache from the pounding of your heart. You curl your fingers until your nails dig into your skin as you watch him kneel beside her. 

She doesn't notice as she opens the box on its hinges. Her lips part and she stares at the contents. She looks over at Steve to find him on his knee and she claps her hand over her mouth. Her eyes gleam as she whimpers his name through her fingers. 

The scene hazes behind your tears as you stare wide eyed. Your ears ring as Steve's voice is dulled by your shock. 

"Margaret Elizabeth Carter," Steve's timbre warble just a bit, "will you make me the happiest man on earth?" 

You don't wait for her answer. You already know it. It's the very same you give in every outlandish dream you've ever had of your happy ending. You spin and storm through the crowd, blind with horror and self-pity. 

The next morning, you made sure to wake up and hour earlier than usual. Getting out the shower and picking your outfit, you decided on a pair of olive green slacks and a cream-colored button-up, matching the latter with your cream pumps with the gold detailing. You slicked your curly hair into a low ponytail with a deep side part, making sure to fleek the baby hairs on the perimeter of your hairline perfectly. You kept your makeup simple, but bold, by wearing a BB cream, a pair of false lashes, and a vivid, cranberry liquid lipstick. Not to mention, your eyebrows were also done to perfection.

Grabbing your keys, cell phone, and purse, you headed out the door and into the brisk autumn air, quickly hopping into your car and starting it. Your car’s Bluetooth automatically connected to your phone and you began to scroll through your music, deciding to play Jay Park’s Everything You Wanted album on your commute. You bopped you head to Me Like Yuh as you wove through the morning Seoul traffic, lightly drumming on the steering wheel. Pulling into the AOMG parking lot, your favorite song on the album started: Feature ft. Cha Cha Malone. Looking at the clock on your dashboard, you were still fifteen minutes early and decided that you had enough time to ‘jam out to this bop real quick.’

“Wanna grab you by ya booty, ya booty,” you sang out, grooving in the driver’s seat until you happened to make eye contact with someone coming out of their car, and immediately froze, almost turning a bright red while you scrambled through the passenger seat for your phone, turning the music off. You looked back up at them slowly, finding them still staring at you through your car window. You smiled awkwardly and gave a small wave toward the spectator and they quickly proceeded to the building’s entrance. “Great,” you sighed to yourself, gathering your belongings and turning off your car, exiting briefly. “The foreigner made a fool out of herself on the first day.” You walked towards the main entrance, ensuring not to add to your embarrassment by tripping and falling on your face as well. “At least I’m early,” you said pushing open the giant glass door. You proceeded to walk up to the front desk to check in.

“First and last name?” the receptionist inquired with a welcoming smile. You tell her your name while pulling out your ID to hand to her as well. After typing something into the computer, she hands you a badge with your name printed on it as well as the AOMG logo. “This is yours, and you can go ahead and have a seat over there. Mr. Malone will be with you shortly,” she pointed to a waiting area with a coffee table, clad with numerous magazines.

“Okay tha-” you started to bow before fully comprehending her words. “Sorry, maybe I didn't hear you clearly. Did you just say Malone as in-?”

“Cha Cha Malone,” a deep voice cut you off from behind you. You spun around to see Cha Cha, in the flesh, looking fine as hell in a navy blue suit and a blinding white smile. You picked your jaw off the floor before bowing and sticking your hand out to shake his simultaneously, not knowing which to do first.

“My name is-”

“I know who you are,” Cha Cha smiled even brighter, taking your hand to shake it. “With a resume like that, how could I not know who you are?”

A small “oh,” was all you could manage, as your eyes fell to your still-connected hands and you face began to heat up at the contact. Cha Cha nonchalantly dropped your hand and guided you towards the elevator, looking over his shoulder to see if you were still following. You shyly smile back at his cuteness.

“You don't seem very excited for your first day,” he playfully frowned, pushing the button to call the elevator to the first floor.

“Well, of course, I'm excited,” you frowned back, shrugging your shoulders. “But there are probably tons of other candidates applying for the same position, so I don't want to get my hopes up too high, in case I don't get picked.” You were lying; your hopes were sky-high and you were already doing backflips in your head.

“You already have it,” Cha Cha said simply as the elevator dang, indicating that it had arrived, and he boarded. “The position is yours.”

“What?” You blinked, feet froze in place. The elevator doors almost closed on you before he stopped them, motioning for you to also board. “I-I-...”  you tried to form a sentence. “But, how?” was all you could come up with.

“Well,” he began, placing a long, tanned finger on his chiseled chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Let me put it this way: If someone was sending in their resume every week, for say-How long have you been in Seoul?” he interrupted himself.

“Two months,” you squeaked out.

“For the past two months,” he continued, “a very impressive resume by the way, wouldn't you want to hire them off of pure dedication alone?”

“ I guess,” you said to the gold buckles on your shoes, finding it harder to make eye contact with him after such flattery.

“ I thought Minji explained this to you over the phone.” He punched the button for the 7th floor, after what felt like an eternity of being in a still elevator.

“She probably did.” you finally looked up, still not meeting his eyes, instead, choosing to speak to his full lips. “You see, my Korean is still a little rusty, so some of what she said kind of went right over my head.” Cha Cha only chuckled in response, petting the top of your head and exiting the elevator as soon as the doors opened. You followed close behind, filing out of the elevator into a long hallway. At the end of the hallway was a door marked Studio A with a small glass window at the top. Cha Cha punched in the code and opened the door.

“And this,” he gestured for you to enter first, “is where the magic happens.” You found yourself picking your jaw up off of the ground for a second time that morning as your eyes explored the room, trying to take in every detail before you woke up from this oh-so-realistic dream you were in.

“I'm just kidding,” Chacha plopped into a big leather desk chair, behind the soundboard. “We don't do actual magic in here, just some really dope music, and sometimes we just play around.” He looked at you to say something.

Silence

“What? You never been in a recording studio before?”

“Never,” You released a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

“ Then how'd you make all those dope ass mixes?” He sat up in his chair.

“GarageBand,” you admitted. Did he listen to your music?

“Well then you're really in for a treat today,” he chuckled, pulling his wallet out of his blazer pocket and sliding out a black credit card reaching out to give it to you. “Go to that coffee shop down the street and get two hot americanos and whatever you want of course.” You give him a puzzled look as you take the card into your digits, like some sacred ancient document that shouldn't be held with bare hands. “Did you forget you were my assistant?” he questioned sternly.

“No,” you lied. “Sorry sir,” you mutter in Korean, bowing politely. “Thank you, sir,” bowing once more.

“ Cha Cha is fine,” the man laughed out loud. “And English is also fine.” --- “Stupid, stupid stupid,” you lightly smacked your forehead in the driver’s seat of your car. “Sorry, sir” “thank you, sir,” you mocked yourself before pulling out of the driveway, heading to the coffee shop. You hoped that your first and most simple task wouldn't be disrupted by your apparent incompetence today. ---

On the way back from picking up the coffee, your frustration slowly dissolved, a wide grin appearing on your face as your recalled being complimented by Cha Cha-freaking-Malone, one of the most infamous producers in the Korean hip-hop game right now.

   The gleeful moment did not last long, however, as you were reminded once more that today was indeed one filled with unfortunate events. You pursed your lips, fixing your face into a scowl as you glared at the giant black SUV that took your previous parking spot. “How lucky am I today? You began circling the parking lot.

---

“Hey sorry I took so long, you use your back to push open the door to Studio A, walking backwards into the room. “Some idiot in a black Escalade took my spot, so I had to circle the block like 100 times to finally find parking. I hope your drinks aren’t col-” you spun around, expecting only one body, but finding two.

“I wanted to introduce you to Mr. Lee Seong-Hwa,” Cha Cha spoke “a.k.a. the idiot who took your parking spot a.k.a.-”

“Gray,” you finished with a blank stare, unsure if you were more starstruck or mortified at this moment.

More silence

“She’s cute and feisty. Can we keep her?” Gray pouted at Cha Cha, hopping off of his seat atop the counter to cross the room to you. The artist was wearing a white knit long sleeve that hung off his body like it was made specifically for him. The low neckline of the top revealed his collarbones in a way that made you lick your lips and the exposed skin. The gold chain necklace he wore dangled right above his clavicle, and a pair of distressed denim jeans clung to his lengthy legs as he stalked towards you. You couldn't help but stare wide-eyed at the sight before you. “And you are?’ he made such intense, overwhelming eye contact as he lifted the drinks from your hands, causing the words to get stuck in your throat.

“She’s my new assistant,” Cha Cha answered for you, causing Gray’s head to snap behind himself, attention shifting back to Cha Cha for a moment.

“I’m his new assistant,” you repeated, Gray’s eyes shifting back to yours once more and you can feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks.

“Since we’ve had our introductions,” the producer claps his hands together, “let’s get started with this session, yeah?”

“Of course, boss,” Gray plopped the coffees into Cha Cha’s lap, blowing you a kiss once he stepped inside the booth.

---

   The recording session went so smoothly and effortlessly. The two men switched off between recording and engineering so flawlessly that you would've thought it was rehearsed, had you not known better. The best you could do was scribble some notes in your journal and try not to blink in an effort of not missing anything. You wanted to be able to absorb as much knowledge (and wishfully, talent) as you possibly could for one session.

   Gray's voice was deep, almost robotic when he rhymed, rapping formulaically and to a beat that seemed to sync with the one in your chest. Cha Cha, on the other hand, approached the mic in a more passionate way. His singing came from somewhere deep and it sounded different than anything else the producer had written before.

---

   “So what did you think?” Gray asked, resting one arm on your shoulder while you sat on the lounge couch that was to the right of the door, facing the entirety of the studio. You shrunk a bit under his touch, unexpecting of it.    “I really enjoyed the track actually. The contrast of your guys’ voices really gives the song character. Not to mention the piano in the background. That was you, wasn’t it Gray?” he nodded. “I love when contemporary artists put actual instruments into their music instead of just everything coming off an eclectic soundboard. It gave the song such a classical flare.” you grinned, looking up at the man, and he smiled cheekily back down at you.

   Cha Cha was currently putting some final touches on another track whilst the two of you chatted.

   “Since y'all are already taking a break, why don’t you get us some lunch?” Cha Cha said, not turning his chair, nor his head around to face anyone.

   “It's ok,” you reassured the men, “you guys probably have a lot to work on still. I can go alone, what do you want to eat?” You grabbed your pen to jot down the men's requests.

   “Nah its cool,” Gray insisted. “I have a really complicated order. I’ll come with you… and I’ll pay.”

   “Oh okay” was all you could muster before Gray had already pulled you out the studio and down the hallway. “You can let go of my wrist now before you disconnect it from the rest of my body.” He dropped the limb as soon as you two entered the elevator, apologizing repeatedly. “It's alright,” you reassured him, massaging your sore arm socket. You pressed the button to the lobby floor.

   “Let's take my car,” he led you out of the lobby, towards your stollen parking space, this time more gently, opting to grab your hand, rather than your wrist. You smiled to yourself at the thought of your hand being held by a famous person, and such a good looking one at that.

   “Okay,” you agreed, “only so we don't have to walk all the way to where I'm parked. Also, I’m driving.”

   “What?” Gray objected. “Why would I let Cha Cha’s assistant drive my car?”

   “Because,” you let go of his hand and walked towards the driver’s side of the SUV. “If you drive anything like you walk, I’m not getting in this death trap with you.”

   “Point,” he held up his index finger.

   “Keys, please” you held out both hands and the singer reached into his back pocket, tossing them to you. Unlocking the doors, you took a big step up, reaching up to hold on to the handles, in an attempt to enter such a huge vehicle. You felt two large, warm hands on either side of your waist and turned your head to see Gray helping push you up into the driver’s seat. Once settled, you felt cold where his hands once were. You started the car and turned on the heater.

   “You're so damn short,” he laughed, still standing on the driver's side, holding the door wide open, preventing you from closing it. “Do your feet even touch the pedals?” he teased, grabbing at your ankle.

   “I'll have you know,” you kicked his hand away, “that I am the average height of women in the U.S.”

   “Wow did you look that up all by yourself?”

   “Look,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “Either you get in this car, or ill leave you right here. It makes no difference to me.” you smiled as you watched him jog over to the passenger door. You were finally able to fully shut yours and feel the full effect of the car’s heater.  He quickly hopped into the warmth of the vehicle. You both fastened your seatbelts and you pulled out onto the road. “So what did y'all want to eat? Do you have Cha Cha’s number?”

“I’ll ask him what he's in the mood for,” the man quickly typed up a message and hit ‘send.’ Not even ten seconds later, his phone vibrated with a reply text. “He wants pizza,” Gray announced, placing his phone back in his pocket and folding his hands behind his head.

   “Seriously?” you scoffed. “Pizza? We could've just stayed back at the studio and gotten that delivered.”

   “The guy wants what he wants. Plus, if we hadn't left, I wouldn't have been able to show you this,” Gray uncrossed his hands, sat up, and pressed a button on the car’s dashboard.

   “Show me what- oh warm.” you hummed, pleased with the car’s built-in seat heaters. Gray sat back in his seat, satisfied with your reaction.

   “Make a left up here,” he pointed out. “There’s a good spot right up here.”

---

   “So what toppings do you like?” Gray asked when you two finally found parking on the crowded streets.

   “Hm,” you placed a finger on your chin. “I’m good with the usual pepperoni. What about you? What did you have in mind.”

   “Pepperoni's good. What about corn?” Gray began to exit the car.

   “Corn on pizza?” your eyes were probably bugging out of your head at the moment, not to mention the wind had hit you the exact moment you opened your door, probably causing you to make an even uglier face. To your misfortune, Gray had seen all of it.

“You really hate corn that much?” he chuckled, jogging around the car to your side to help you jump down.

“No,” you threw your arms around yourself as soon as your feet touched the ground. “It's freezing.”

“Ahh, you're cold,” he held his hand out. “Keys please.” You tossed them back to him. Probably as fast as you've ever seen someone, he had popped the trunk, went through the back, pulled out a jacket and had it draped over your shoulders in a matter of seconds. “I don't know why you didn't bring a jacket.”

“In my defense,” you pulled your arms through the sleeves. “Fall in California is way different. I wouldn't even need to wear pants most of the time.” Gray arched an eyebrow at your wording and you became a stuttering mess. “Y-you know w-what I mean,” you playfully smacked his side with the loose end of your sleeve that your arm didn't reach. “Shorts, skirts, dress, summer clothes, you pervert.” You two began walking towards the entrance of the pizza shop.

“Do you miss it?”

“Well,” you hesitated. “Yeah… eternal summers, the beach with my friends”

“Don't look so sad,” Gray wrapped his arm around both of your shoulders, pulling you into the storefront. “We’re here.”

“This feels expensive,” you flailed your arms in small circles in front of yourself as you walked.

“It is.”

“Oh,” you halted all movement. The smell of pizza dough being baked and cheese being melted surrounded the two of you and you couldn't help but inhale deeply through your nose.

“Smell’s good huh?” Gray’s arm was still wrapped around you, adding to the warmth of his coat and the heat from the shop. You nodded your head excitedly, feeling your stomach grumble from not having anything to eat all day. As you began to come down from your pizza shop high, you started to notice other people in the room… and the fact that they were all staring. An uneasiness began to settle at the pit of your stomach. You weren't one for big crowds or audiences for that matter, especially when all you wanted to do was stuff your face with some pizza.

“Uh… Gray,” you poked at his side, gaining his attention from the menu. “Huh?” his eyes met your concerned ones.

“People are staring at us,” you whispered, pointing to the audience the two of you acquired from simply standing there. “Hard, they're staring hard Gray.”

“Well,” he barely glanced at the crowd, causing a couple of the woman to gasp. “Let me put it this way. You're foreign and I'm famous. People are going to stare. Just try and ignore them.”

“I-I can't.” you stammer. “There's like, a lot of people in here.” You could feel the heat building up inside of gray’s jacket. What offered you comfort only a moment ago had soon become almost suffocating.

“Try picturing us in our underwear then. I hear that helps.”

“That’s not how it works, you idiot.”

“You wanna wait in the car?” He dangled his keys in front of your face and you snatched them as quick as possible, jogging through the front door and back into the cold of the autumn, feeling the air prick at your cheeks. You breathed a sigh of relief once you were back inside the comfort of the car. You chose to take the passenger seat instead of driving. Your hands were probably too shaky from the adrenaline to drive right now. You took your phone out to check some emails, scroll through Facebook to see what folks back home were up to, and play a few games of Candy Crush. Before you knew it, you had dozed off in the car. ---

   You awoke to be patted gently on the shoulder.

   “Come on let’s go,” you opened your eyes to a dangerously close Gray. “Good morning sleeping beauty.” the man beamed.

   “I-Uh,” your sleepy brain unable to form sentences just yet.

   “Help me carry the pizzas upstairs, yeah?” You nodded your head, taking a steaming box of hot pizza from the back seat and following the man into the building.

When you two reentered the studio, you could see Cha Cha, suit jacket long removed, hunched over the soundboard, with a pair of Beats on. He nodded to whatever was blasting through the speakers. He didn't even notice your entrance until the unmistakable cheesy, greasy scent invaded his nostrils. He spun around in his chair, another blindingly bright smile assaulted your eyes. You almost held up your hand as if you were looking directly at the sun. you smiled back as you boss removed his headphones.

   “We brought pizza!” you cheered sleepily holding out the hot box in your hands towards him until he took it from you.

   “I can see y’all got kinda comfy huh?” Cha Cha nodded towards the men’s jacket that you definitely were not wearing when you left the building.

   “Yeah,” Gray chimed in. “Actually-”

“I got the job, Gray!!” you blurted out.

“Babe! I knew you would get it, didn’t I tell you? You were a perfect fit! We have to celebrate! Come over?” you could hear your boyfriend’s smile through the phone.

“I’m on my way. Should I pick up any food for dinner? Is Ethan there?” pulling out your keys you walked to your parked care before getting in and turning the car on, connecting your phone to the bluetooth so Grayson’s voice came through the speakers in the car instead of your phone.

“Nah don’t worry about it. I’m out shopping right now. E’s home right now, he’ll let you in.” the two of you hung up and you took the familiar turns to the Dolan’s house. You arrived just fifteen minutes later thanks to backstreets and light traffic, a rarity in LA.

Knocking, you heard Ethan’s voice from behind the door, “Grayson you dumbass, did you forget your keys again, I swear to- oh! Hey, Y/N!” Ethan opened the door wider and pulled you in for a hug.

“Hey, Eth. How does Grayson forget his keys? Aren’t they connected to his car keys?”

“You’d think,” Ethan said as he let you go to close the door, “but for some reason he keeps them separate.” he shook his head at his brother’s antics and you giggled.

“I called Gray a while ago- oh I got the job by the way!” you smiled up at Ethan and his face broke into a wide grin.

“Y/N! Congratulations!” he hugged you again, “I knew you were going to get it, though!” you smiled at him and he made his way to the kitchen, pulling out two bottles of water, tossing one to you. “Did Gray say when he was coming back?” just as Ethan voiced his question Grayson came walking through the door, arms laden with grocery bags. You and Ethan jumped to help him with the heavy load, setting them on the kitchen counter.

“Come here, you.” Grayson said as you set the last bag down on the counter. He pulled you into his chest, peppering your face with kisses, “I’m so so so unbelievably proud of you, Y/N. This is such a huge deal! I’m making your favorite dish tonight.” you giggled as Grayson swung you around and continued to boast about how proud he was to have such a “smart, intelligent, and brilliant girlfriend”. Even when you and Ethan pointed out that all of those words meant virtually the same thing he continued to kiss your face and tell you how proud he was of you.

“Dinner was great, thank you, Gray.” the three of you had retired to the couch after eating your weight in food. Your eyes were getting heavy and you leaned back on his chest, letting your eyes closed contendely.

“Love you.” you hummed to Grayson.

“I love you too.” he placed a kiss on your neck and you flinched. He had pressed his lips right to where you had burned yourself earlier. “What’s this?” Grayson asked, moving your hair out of the way to get a better look.

“Hickey.” you mumbled, the tiredness in your voice overpowering the sarcasm in your voice.

“I’m sorry?” Grayson shook your shoulder as he adjusted his body on the couch to get a better look at your face, trying to find any hint of humor.

“Yeah you took so long at the grocery store that we had to pass the time somehow.” Ethan piped up from the other side of the couch. You kicked your leg out and mad contact with his thigh. Ethan laughed and Grayson moved you off his chest.

“Y/N. I know you wouldn’t cheat on me, and I know, rationally, that you’re probably joking. And I know Ethan would never ever do that to me because he knows how much I love you but I have to be honest. I’m kind of freaking out that you’re not taking this more seriously and that you’re not denying what Ethan just said. And there’s makeup around it so you obviously tried to cover it up and I just really need you to be honest with me right now, please.” you sat up, brushing Grayson’s hair out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I was trying to make a joke but I’m tired and it came out wrong. I burned myself earlier this morning and had to cover it up for the interview because it kind of did look like a hickey. The makeup wore off through the day. It’s just a burn.” you placed a gentle kiss on his nose and smiled at him as you pulled back to survey his face.

“Are you sure? You’re not bored of the relationship? You didn’t find somebody else?” insecurity laced his eyes. Your heart shattered and you wanted to kick yourself for making the stupid joke. You knew that him and Ethan had some insecurities that dated back to when they were young. People would pretend to be their friends to get close to them and then leave them without a second thought.

“Gray, you just made me me favorite dish because I got a job. You’re my biggest supporter and you’ve helped me role play with interviews for months. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m not getting bored, and even if I was I wouldn’t cheat on you. Ever. I swear to you.” your hand grasped his cheeks and you tried to make him see just how honest you were being.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologize. It was a stupid joke and I know how you feel about that stuff. It was my fault. I love you, Grayson.”

“To the moon?” he asked.

“And back.” you confirmed with a kiss.

“You guys are gross.” Ethan said with a groan. Grayson threw a pillow at his twin before settling back into the couch, pulling you back into his chest, placing a kiss on your head.

“I love you so much.” you told him and he placed a kiss on your lips.