25 - If This Was A Movie

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"Before the fight, before I locked you out. I take it all back now."
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The ride in the limo is quiet, you and Emily both watching the passing town your tinted windows. You hope they're tinted enough that pedestrians stopping to look on the sidewalks don't look in and see the awkwardness between you and Emily.

You're lucky that the red carpet and premiere venue is only a good fifteen minutes from your apartment, so you don't have to soak in the awkwardness for long.

Finally, the limo pulls up curbside to the red carpet, your side facing the sidewalk. You slip out, red heels first, and straighten your dress. Then you hold the door open for Emily as she follows you out in pure Hollywood couple fashion.

Tonight could feel real. There is no doubt in Emily's ability to make it feel that way. With each movement, she convinces you and the media that she might be pretending to pretend. You try to remind yourself that this is the last favor you'll do for Emily, that the way she looks at you is a result of her years of acting experience and not the chemistry between you.

You hold out your hand for Emily to take as she gracefully steps out of the limo. She squeezes your hand, not dropping it as she walks by your side.

This is Los Angeles. You've seen this many cameras before, but you're usually standing with them behind the ropes. They have never been snapping and flashing at you. Reporters wave their notepads in the air and shout Emily's name. You're impressed with her ability to smile and walk through ignoring them.

In front of a light blue backdrop, Emily finally turns to stop and face the cameras. The red carpet in front of you is empty with the exception of a few reporters waiting on the press area ahead.

Emily snakes her arm towards your upper back, and you take this as your cue to slide your hand tightly around her waist, making sure to pull her close as if trying to convince the public that the two of you truly are in love.

Emily flashes the bright smile that you love so much, making you wonder how she could appear so happy in front of the paparazzi but so devastated behind closed doors. That smile that you haven't seen, really seen, in so long.

You smile too, as genuine as you can manage. Thinking of all your fond memories with Emily helps you get it across. You're sure it's convincing and don't really care if it's not. Emily can't expect you to put on a face like she can. She's the actress, not you.

Emily turns away from the cameras and faces you, throwing her arms over your shoulders. She leans in for a kiss.

You offer her a quick peck on the lips before pulling her over to the press area.

Immediately, you are bombarded by cameras but in a more orderly fashion than you've ever seen. These are the best journalists in California. They know they'll get their quote by waiting their turn. Unlike those behind the ropes now following Nolan and Natalia with their lenses.

Emily turns to follow your line of sight, but you wrap your arm around her to keep her gaze on the reporter in front of you.

"Emily," the reporter greets her like an old friend, "who is this that you brought with you tonight?"

"Y/N Y/L/N," Emily leans into your touch during the response and plants a kiss on your cheek, elevating onto her toes to reach you. You've always been taller than Emily, but she decided to wear black flats and you went with heels. So the height different today is even more evident. It's kind of cute, the kind of thing fans love.

"The makeup artist!" The reporter says. "I had a hunch those rumors were true."

"Y/N is the best of the best. She's been there for me on and off set, any time of the day. I owe her my life," Emily explains, each word so genuine that you believe her. Everything inside of you warns you not to.

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