𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟴𝟭 - 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻

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a/n - please vote

february 29th
i drop olivia off at her building where she had her meetings, in this case, her met gala meeting. olivia gives me a sweet kiss, getting out of the car. "hey! wait!" someone yells. i look out the window frame, seeing a guy walk up. "hey darren!" olivia greets, closing the door. "hey olivia," he says, not even looking at her, "we need to talk." "sorry, me and you?" i ask. "no, you and olivia's team," he says. "why?" i ask. "does it have anything to do with y/n and i?" olivia asks. "no, just a lot about y/n. no more questions, hurry up!"

olivia and i walk beside each other into the building as darren leads the way. "do you know what this is?" i ask olivia. "got no clue," she says, starting to jog, "damn, why're you running, darren?" "because you're late! and i'm excited to tell everyone spider-woman's here!" he starts running. 

we walk into olivia's meeting room, and everyone looks at me. "hey everyone," i smile. "hey, you're here. take a seat, you two." olivia sits down in a seat, and i sit down beside her.

they start to talk about the met gala which was in a few months away (pretend the met isn't may 1st). "now, the theme," jennifer, one of olivia's team members start, "is remembering stan lee." i look down, the recurring though of stan's death last month hitting my brain again. the idea of remembering stan lee being the theme of the met gala was really sweet.

(i'm kinda going off the idea of behind the met gala so just go with it)

"now, i'm sure you've gotten a met gala invitation, y/n." "i have, but i probably won't go," i admit. "what?" everyone in the room practically yells beside olivia because she already knew (and gave me the 'what?' yell when she found out). "it's so prestigious it's scary," i chuckle, "i've never been to the met gala before, i turned down all the invitiations since i've been getting them, i wasn't my idea to turn into a celebrity when i just save the city. no offense, but the met gala reminds me of something the capitol in the hunger games would do." "y/n, you gotta go," olivia laughs, swivelling her chair to face me. "it's a lot of pressure," i say, looking at everyone's still shocked faces. "i mean, if i got invited to the met gala," darren says, "i'd go." "have my invitation," i chuckle. "doesn't work like that," darren sighs, "unfortunately." "y/n, i've spoken with every designer who got a table for the met gala," donatella versace, olivia's met gala designer, says, "they all want you." "why?" i ask. "hello... spider-woman? stan lee? comics?" garrett says. "isn't the whole point to dress up to remember stan lee?" i ask. "yes, that's why everyone wants you," donatella tells me, "that's why everyone wants to pay you for you to wear them. like, literally everyone. tommy hilfiger, gucci, chanel, givenchy, me... list goes on." "oh my gosh!" olivia squeals. "so there's peer pressure on me now," i say, "with a side of bribery in the form of money." "no, they just really, really, really want you as their brand for the met," tom says.

i take a deep sigh, "it's just... not me, you know? i've been thinking about it for a while. if anything, i'd go this year because of stan... but i don't know." "did i tell you they're willing to pay money for you to go?" donatella says. "you didn't," i say, "how much?" "a lot..." donatella laughs, "tommy hilfiger can pay, like, five hundred thousand... that's probably the lowest offer." "that's insane!" olivia exclaims. "that's unnecessary," i say, "wait, they're all basically bidding to buy me to wear their shit for one night?" "in the best way possible," darren says. "i guess," donatella says. "how much are you... willing to pay?" i ask, "i don't want your money- anyone's money. i'm just wondering." "eight hundred thousand," she says confidently.

after a long talk of them all trying to subtly convince me, i make a loud groan. "how long do i have to return my invitation or however the hell it works?" i ask. olivia turns her chair to me again, putting her legs over my lap. i put my hands on her legs, rubbing them as i listen to darren. "i'd say... a week," he says, "two weeks to make an easy decision that should already know the answer to." "a week," i confirm, looking at olivia. she gives me a smile, wiggling her eyebrows.

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