When twenty-eight-year-old Sebastian Stan scores a huge role for Marvel's newest superhero origin movie, secretly dedicated to his best friend's cute obsession with the comics, both Sebastian and (y/n) meet "some guy" from Boston and (y/n) falls in...
Your first week back at work so far was exciting, especially since you were with a pretty large crowd of close friends and colleagues for a movie you really enjoyed working on, but you were already expecting a great exhaustion out of it that you absolutely dreaded.
"So, Kimmel, Fox, press tours... press cons," a single tap of a pen fills the following silence. "You always seem to have fun at those events. Lucky you, we're doing that one first."
You let out a breath of relief. "Alright. How do I look?" you spread out your arms, showing off the outfit picked out for you today; white off-shoulder, button-up, fancy blue denim, and your own all-white Nikes. Press cons usually went in for casual, little classy get-ups cause, well, it's just the press before other CACW things for the rest of the day.
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"I know I'm not in charge of fashion, but what if we throw in some more... fancy?"
You look down and tilted your head at the shoes. "It's the Nikes, isn't it?"
"Oh honey, we'll bring flat sandals for you," Allen says, not looking up from her iPad. "Does that sound good for you?"
"Um... I guess?"
""Look, I promise that it's just for show, sweetie," she reassures you before going off to talk to Chris and Sebastian's managers in the hall. You plop down onto the bed tiredly.
You haven't even started the whole promotion and press and you were already tired. I mean, when you think about it, promotion was the mentally tiring part of your career.
Meeting and talking to all these professional journalists was, no doubt, tiring, save for all the personal introductory. You had to be professional when answering questions and also reserved to not give too much, personal and movie wise, all while trying to keep up with the personality you've let the entire world see the moment you stepped out from behind the filming camera to another, more reality-grounded one.
As you push yourself up to trudge on over to the lounge chair by the balcony, Chris strides in, in the most comfortable-looking sweater ever, as if he's mocking you. It doesn't take him another second, thankfully, for him to notice the predicament you found yourself in. "You havin' wardrobe malfunction?"
"Huh?"
"You have that look on your face," he pointed in an accusatory manner.
"What?"
"You either hate your entire outfit or your reflection. Which I know is not it because this is the first time I'm seeing you wear the comfy jeans to a press con. In London. Which you look incredible in, please tell me you're not changing."
You blinked and sat back into the lounge chair. It was a very close guess. "No, I promise, it's not even that bad. Allen just thought I was a little too... casual."
Chris groaned. "Last time you told me that, we ended up being late for dinner at Ma's house."
Taken aback by the sudden accusation, a dirty look replaces the pout on your lips. "The only reason we ended up being late then was because one of you two idiots hid my panties!" you whisper-yell, cautiously looking back to see if Allen was nearby.
