I stand with my arm looped through Timothée's, zoning in and out of the conversation he is having with some famous person I don't know. We're at a charity gala where there are tons of other celebrities. I was excited to come at first, partly because I would get to be surrounded by famous people, but mostly because the gala was in support of Amazon Rainforest preservation. But now, after nearly four hours in heels and talking about unimportant things with people I don't know well, I'm more than ready to go home.
Timothée says goodbye to the man he's talking to and I wave. I follow Timothée as he leads me across the room to our table. As soon as I sit down, I slip my heels off and breathe an audible sigh of relief. Finally, I'm out of these torturous shoes! Who's idea were high heels anyways? Probably a mans.
"Phew! It feels good to take those off. My feet are killing me," I tell Timothée, gesturing to my bare feet. He looks down and laughs.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
"Nothing. It's just that I think you're the only girl I know who would take her heels off in the middle of the world's fanciest gala."
I stick my tongue out at Timothée, but laugh nonetheless. Timothée and I sit in silence for a while, just watching people move about the room.
Then, through the hum of conversation, I hear Ed Sheeran's "Thinking Out Loud" playing from the speakers. Timothée notices the song at the same time and immediately looks at me, a sneaky smile spreading across his face. This has been our song the whole time we've been dating.
"Wanna dance?" I ask, raising my eyebrows and pointing to the empty dance floor.
"It would be my pleasure," Timothée says. He takes my hand in his and helps me stand up, my heels still thrown on the floor. As soon as we start to walk to the dance floor, a woman in a big purple dress calls Timothée's name and gestures for him to come over. He pretends to not hear her, but she yells again and he has no choice but to talk to her.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. This will only take a second," Timothée apologizes.
"It's okay," I respond. I follow him as he walks over to the woman, who's hair is graying and wrinkles are beginning to grace her pale face.
"Ah, Timothée Chalamet, thank you for coming tonight, dear," she says as she kisses his cheek.
"I'm glad I could make it, thank you for inviting me," Timothée says politely.
The two talk to each other for a few minutes, our song ending and another one starting up. Looks like I won't get that dance tonight...
To be honest, I wasn't listening to a word of the conversation. That is, until I hear Timothée say my name.
"This is my girlfriend, Y/N," he says as he smiles brightly and squeezes my hand.
"Hi, it's lovely to meet you," I say with a kind smile to the woman. She doesn't smile back though.
"Have I seen you in anything? A movie? Are you a singer?"
"Um, no. I'm no one fancy. I'm actually still in school."
"And what are you studying?"
"Fashion. I'd love to be a designer one day."
"Well, dear god I hope you didn't design that hideous dress you're wearing. Otherwise you'd never have a single customer," she says with a sort of evil laugh.
I glance down at the dress I made myself. It took me days to put together and I thought it looked great, but now I'm starting to second guess it.
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"I, uh. I did make it, actually," I say quietly, trying my hardest to not allow my voice to quiver.
"Well honey, do yourself a favor and change your major please. That's the ugliest dress I've ever seen," the woman says, now cackling.
Tears slip from my eyes and I try to think of a comeback, but I'm at a loss for words.
"Hey, what the hell, lady?" I hear Timothée yell. Everyone else at the gala heard him too, because the room went dead silent.
"Timmy, please don't do this, it's really okay," I plead as I tug at the sleeve of his suit.
"No it's not okay! What makes you think you have the right to say that?" Timothée yells even louder the woman, who seems to be a bit frightened at this point. "She's worked for over two weeks on this dress and it's beautiful! She looks absolutely stunning in it and she did an amazing job. What right do you have to tell her it's ugly?"
"Timmy, please let's just go," I plead again, but he ignores me.
"Y/N worked so incredibly hard on this, and she works hard in everything she does. I bet you wouldn't know what hard work is if it fell on your head. I know you're family, where you come from. You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter since the day you were born. So don't judge someone else's hard work because you've never worked hard a day in your life."
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The woman looked as white as a ghost and her mouth was hung open in shock. As people started whispering and pointing to the woman's embarrassed appearance, Timothée squeezed my hand even tighter.
"Come on, let's go," I say, not really giving him a choice as I pull him towards the exit. I don't even bother to take my heels from the table.
When we are finally outside on the sidewalk, Timothée takes a deep breath.
"I swear, I could say so much more to that bitch if you hadn't stopped me," Timothée says, pacing on the sidewalk.
"I know. And thank you. For sticking up for me. You really didn't have to."
"I did. You didn't deserve any of the words she was saying. I wish I could've yelled more."
"She's probably right though. It's probably a really ugly dress."
"Are you fucking kidding me?! That is the prettiest dress I've ever seen, and I'm not saying that just because you're my girlfriend and you made it. Plus, it looks gorgeous on you."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Come here," I say, extending my arms out for him to hug me. Timothée hugs me tightly, lifting me off the ground and spinning me slightly.
"I love you," I whisper in his ear.
"I love you more. And hey, I still owe you a dance."
"Yes, indeed you do."
"How about right now?"
"Right here?! In the middle of the sidewalk with no music?"
"Who cares? I just blew up at the lady running the gala and you aren't wearing shoes. We're kinda a mess right now. So what's one dance?"
"You're right," I say, taking Timothée's hand and giggling as he spins me around.
So Timothée and I dance in the middle of the sidewalk to silence, dancing away the events of the gala just moments before. And it was the best dance I've ever had.
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