Who knew

Teamwork

Not gonna lie, I didn't know how to behave.

I mean, Marshall had a lot of fun with some random girl he brought to the studio and basically showed me that whatever he said on the threshold of Denaun's house was true. He just moved casually to another toy that appeared in front of the sight and showed me his other side in all its beauty. I didn't really care who that was: Marshall, Shady, Eminem, or maybe some other persona he could choose. It was all his actions. And if I could've hoped for words to be false, the actions didn't need any further hesitations.

And still...

Still what? Yeah, silly of me to leave that "but" hanging in the air as if there really was a place for it and it wasn't just a trick of my imagination. Luckily or unfortunately, I kept thinking about some of the things from that day. I guess I don't have to mention that after the conference room scene with Paul I and Marshall didn't talk. We didn't even see each other after that incident but I kept thinking about his grip on me in the elevator. His touch and the proximity of the moment were making my head spin as I was daydreaming about it on my way home. I didn't know what that meant but one thing was certain for sure: he was holding me for that long, not for politeness reasons.

I couldn't escape his reaction to my answer to Paul as well. I felt like a little pride show of mine was nothing but unexpected for him and the way his blue eyes were watching the elevator door closing was way too promising. The question was how dangerous for me were his next steps and if they had at least something in common with his attraction to me.

Something about Marshall just wouldn't let me go and I was anticipating the next working days with fear and, to tell the truth, exciting nervousness.

A few days flew by without any kind of conversation or contact. I played slick, managing to avoid Marshall as much as I was able to do or being in the same room only when someone else was around. I was noticing some attentive and thoughtful glances from him but he never tried to talk again.

Well, I guess, the outcome was defined.

That day I went out the taxi in the quiet and secured houses' area in Detroit. Marshall had another photoshoot that required some classic American background and Paul asked me to come to see it. The flashbacks from the first photoshoot with Marshall and his little zipper trouble came to my head, probably to get a smile from me. But I held it back, going down the street, looking for the shooting area.

The houses along the way seemed to be drawn. It was almost impossible to imagine for someone to live there but Royce claimed it was a legitimate neighborhood. Just way too polished for people with money. Nothing like a real Detroit, way too cute.

I turned around the corner of the street to get rid of my thoughts, spotting the big scene with lights and equipment put around the snowy white gorgeous house. The voices of the staff and photographer filling the air as I was getting closer, creating a full working atmosphere.

Going further, I spotted the one and only Marshall's manager, and Paul's figure near all this big and scary image brought me a sense of confidence. I always loved to see him in his working process, knowing how well he felt what should've been where and what everyone was supposed to do. I waved at him from the distance, letting my lips a small smile.

'Morning' I pronounced cheerfully and was left satisfied with my nervousness control. I still couldn't see Marshall because of the staff running everywhere and my glance was getting lost. I saw the small corner of the unknown vintage car on the set and that was all. It was a small break before shooting again.

'Hey, Ella, how are you today?' Paul returned a small smile, looking a bit distracted, though. Nothing was unusual about that. First of all, Paul was at work.