Terrified - Timóthee Chalamet

TWENTY-NINE

    It was six o'clock on the dot when Arden let the feeling of overwhelming pressure set in. Guests would be arriving in just an hour and fans ready for her pre-party book signing were already lined up outside. They were buying books as they waited and doing their best to harass every security guard they could.

   Arden stared in the mirror on the bathroom wall, trying to pick out everything wrong with herself. She wasn't sure why her mind was playing such a cruel game, but she couldn't force herself to look away. Something in the back of her head said she should blow off the party and just sign a few books before going home, but she had personally invited seventy-five people, their plus ones, and whomever her manager suggested, bringing the total to two hundred people coming and going. Calculating her guests only made the feeling in her chest more prominent.

"Arden!" Her press manager, Trinity called. "We're almost ready for you out here!"

"I'll be out in just a sec!" Arden replied.

    She took a deep breath and flattened out her hair, as well as straightened her clothing out. Taking one last glance in the mirror, she nodded to herself. She built up all the remaining courage in her body and stepped out the bathroom door to a large group of people, all there to ensure the safety of herself and the guests of her party.

"You'll sit here," Trinity instructed, pulling out Arden's chair for her. "For the most part you just have to smile, give a greeting, sign their book and move to the next person. This not being your only public work, there will most likely be fans of your acting endeavors here as well who will probably bring gifts. You're obviously welcome to except these and you'll have security near just encase someone is making you uncomfortable or anything else."

"Thank you," Arden smiled.

"Just doing my job," Trinity smiled before preparing to walk away. "I'm just a call away, handling the party inside, of you need me. I'll see you later tonight."

    Arden took a deep breath and settled in her seat. She looked around the table at all the pens and markers then at all her propaganda. She chose a blue marker with flecks of glitter in the ink and let everyone know she was ready to start the signing.

    People began to flood the space in front of her. A line formed down the block as people came in and out. Arden tried her best to force a smile for each person, some making it harder than others. To her favor, she never once heard Timothée's name or was asked about her solemn posts or captions. She wasn't oblivious to the frenzy in her comment section, nor the fact that she had very much caused it. However, even without the help of her fans, his name rang in her head.

     Nearing her time to join the party, Arden had stopped greeting her fans quite so cheerfully. For the most part she said 'hi' as nicely as possible and signed whatever they asked to be signed, but she barely looked up. There were, at most, ten people left in the line when a hand slammed down on the table. Arden jumped, now almost scared to look up, but the security around her had paid less attention to the man in front of her than anyone else.

"Mind signing my hand?" A voice asked. "I think it's more personal."

   Arden looked up and her heart skipped a beat. She stopped a smile from reaching her face and pinned her body to her seat as best as she could. Timothée gave a sly, nervous grin down at her, awaiting her response. Arden didn't utter a word, but instead did as he asked and wrote her name on his hand, the blue glitter shining against it.

"You're not talkative," Timothée said. "Judging by the interviews I've watched, I would have thought you to be more lively."

"I'm just tired, I suppose," Arden croaked our, looking up once again, despite her reluctance.

"You should try to smile," he said, suddenly looking more serious, more hurt. "You're much prettier when you smile, Arden."

Timothée began to walk away. He stopped only when he heard the sound of Arden's voice, piping up just loud enough to be heard over the music flowing from the party awaiting her arrival.

"That's the worst thing to tell someone when they're upset," Arden commented.

"I thought you were just tired," Timothée hissed.

   Arden let him go. She turned to the next person in line and gave a wide, pain ridden smile. She signed their book and continued on. She signed another, finally looking up to see Timothée still filing out of the building. Her pride screamed at her to let their months of taking a break turn into years of never seeing each other, until it formed a lifetime, but the physical aching she felt as he neared the door yelled at her to move. She turned to the people in line and her security.

"I'll be right back," she said frantically, still trying to watch the door. "Just give me a moment."

  Without waiting for a response, Arden jumped up from her seat. She squeezed passed the security and slid under the rope, in between fan after fan. She reached an opening as caught Timothée's eye. He didn't take another step forward, but was certainly in no rush to meet her halfway.

"You should come sit," Arden said. "There's only a few people left."

Timothée gave a disappointed stare, furrowing his eyebrows as he prepared to keep walking, his hands in his pockets.

"Please," Arden said, catching his attention. "Please come take the seat next to me. I'm almost done... and I want to talk to you."

   Timothée nodded with a mumbled 'okay'. The two squeezed back through the crowd of people. They arrived back at Arden's table and Timothée took the seat next to her as asked. In just a few moments, Arden was finished and she dragged an unexpected guest to a back room, near the party.

"I'll make this quick because tonight is kind of a big deal, especially if I never show up," Arden said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for your book signing and your party," Timothée said.

"You weren't invited to the party," Arden said blatantly.

"I'm Armie's plus one," Timothée smirked.

"No, that's..." Arden trailed off, before throwing her hand to her face. "I sent them both an invitation... both with a plus one... which means, Armie could bring you."

"Arden—"

"You asshole," Arden said, shaking her head with a slight, unhumorous smile.

"I don't want to fight with you tonight, Arden," Timothée said. "I'm not here to ruin your night, okay? I got my hand signed, I'll enjoy the free food and the company that isn't only loyal to you and very assuming, then I'll be out of here, okay? I only came because Jane said you might want me here."

"Jane's in on this?" Arden asked. "Seriously?"

"No, there's no in," Timothée said. "This isn't some elaborate plan, Arden. I'm just here to be happy for you, alright?"

Arden thought for a moment, staring down at the ground. She kept her eyes focused on their shoes, but her mind could only imagine Timothée's smiling face and her heart ached.

"Thank you," she breathed out, looking up to study Timothée's expression. "I—I'm glad you came because I missed... I miss you."

"Yeah?" Timothée asked.

"Yeah."

I miss you like crazy, Timothée thought, but couldn't manage to say. And you never called. You never told me how long I'd have to wait. You never said if I'd ever get to kiss your face again. But I messed up majorly and now I don't know what to do.

"You want to get coffee after this?" Arden asked.

"Please."