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It's past three in the morning. I've found out more things, like the fact that Timothée knows all the words to Super Bass. He is a bundle of energy, dancing and rapping all the words to songs by his hip hop idols, whom he tells me all about.

We dance and yell rap verses in his living room, tipsy from the sporadic drinks, fueled by chemistry alive between us. We're toppled over in laughter, flailing around so much that we're sweating. At one point, he catches me from behind, his arms curling around my waist as his lips dive into the crook of my neck, landing on my cheek.

As I dance around in his living room, tipsy, in just his shirt, I realize it seems like an eternity since I've felt this carefree. Since I've been this amount of myself with someone, unabashedly.

**********

"You ever feel like it's just you against...everything else?"

We've collapsed onto the cushioned window seat, overlooking the city. I lean into his chest, my back toward him, his arms around me from behind, his legs enveloping mine on the cushions. I've pulled a knit throw blanket onto us. His thumb draws circles on my hand.

The late hours of the night and our insomniac minds, combined with the warmth of the alcohol, have pushed us towards facile vulnerability. That, and the city skyline outside, which has always done something to me.

I ponder at his question. "I know the feeling."

I expect him to keep talking, but there's a noticeable pause. His thumb stops circling, and he switches to clutching my hand tightly.

"Why do you mention that?" I prompt him.

I feel him exhale. "I know, it sounds so angsty to say it. I think it's just an outlook I've had my whole life."

"Like teenage angst," I mention. "You feel like the world's after you, but everyone says it's just hormones, so you expect it to go away when you turn 20. And it doesn't."

"Exactly."

I pause. "It has to have the down sides, right?" I say. "Your career. Like, the pressure when you're so young in such a big industry." I try to look up, nuzzling his cheek in the process. "Is it hard?"

"Funny. No one really bothers to ask me about the downsides." His hesitancy is confirming.

I try to sit up so I can face him. When I move, I realize how tightly he's been holding me. Like he's holding on for dear life.

He feels me move and immediately releases his hold. But the bond between us tonight is too strong, and I fall back onto him, the lightest chuckle leaving him as I feel his lips pressed to my head. Anxious thoughts threaten. I push them away as I nestle my head under his chin.

"Come on," I whisper, my fingers lightly tapping his hand, which rests in mine. "I won't tell anyone."

We lay there for a moment instead. His other hand comes up to stroke the side of my hair, holding my head to his chest.

"I can never talk about that side of it. I have too many things to be thankful for. There's so much I've done in my career that's so rare for anyone my age, and — you know, I can't take it for granted."

"I don't think you're taking it for granted. With every good thing that comes along, there's gonna be a cost. But that's how you find how much the good thing is worth at the end of the day."

"Yeah. You're right." I can't see him, but I already know the comtemplative look on his face.

"This last project I did, one that's coming out next year. The role challenged me so much, it really did. Roles like that are rare. But it's so hard when you've done eight takes of the same scene, in the rain, and you've dropped twenty pounds for this role, and you end up in the hospital on several occasions..."

"Shit. The hospital?"

"Nothing super serious," he says, and he goes on to tell me a particular story in which he ended up in an ambulance during filming.

"Sounds...kind of serious."

He shrugs. "It's more the mental state. It's hard, piecing the real you back together after these projects. Then the fact that the whole world seems to be watching my every move. I was this struggling no-name actor just praying to be cast in anything, and here I am, and it's...amazing, and more than I could've ever asked for, and all these new projects and upcoming press and interviews and shoots. The fucking Oscars. It's...I still can't wrap my head around it."

"But?" I echo his long pause.

The anxiety can be heard in his voice when he half-whispers, not sure if to me or to himself: "The world is watching my every move."

I pull myself up, curling up on his lap and pressing my lips to his cheek, laying my head on his shoulder as my hand strokes his hair on the other side. The world is out there tonight, not here. Tonight it's just me and him. I want to remind him.

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a/n: ok here is a half-asleep update because i love u all and won't be able to update again til next week, sorry for any errors lol tanks luv u goodnight

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