The Interview • Chris Evans

The Premiere

In hindsight, you weren't sure if agreeing to go was the right move.

Nerves clutched your stomach, your leg shaking restlessly in the back of the limo as it cruised down the street. More than once you debated grabbing one of those mini bottles of liquor that were lined up on the small bar, but you didn't want to show up to the premiere reeking of booze. Plus, you hadn't eaten today – between the hair stylist, makeup artist, and being fitted for the dress, there hadn't been time. So chances were, the alcohol would hit you harder than you wanted.

The window dividing the driver from the back of the limo rolled down, Carson grinning at you through the review mirror. "We're about ten minutes out."

You stuck your tongue out at him, your leg still bouncing. He chuckled, and when he went to roll the window back up, you stopped him. "Have you heard from Chris?"

He shook his head, his eyes quickly darting down to his watch as he tapped the screen. "No, nothing. But that isn't unusual. He's probably still in interviews."

"Right, yeah, of course," you said, staring out the window as the buildings passed by, the streets getting busier with people as you got closer to the theatre.

Carson reached forward into the glove box, grabbing something and tossing it to you – mints. "Take a shot. Your leg is going to fall off if you keep shaking it."

"I probably shouldn't," you said, already reaching forward for one of the bottles.

Carson raised an eyebrow as you took several tries to open the cap. "You definitely should. You are a mess."

You chuckled, finally getting it open. "Remember when you were nice to me?"

"I once asked if I could speak freely, and you said you'd prefer it." His words were said with a grin as you downed the contents of the bottle.

"And I've lived to regret it every day," you teased, pulling one of the mints out and popping it in your mouth.

"Better?" He asked, the car slowing down as the traffic got heavier.

You pushed your hand into your thigh to stop it from bouncing. "No. Yes. I don't know. Why did I agree to this?"

"It will be fun. You know most of the people who will be there. And if it's a disaster I'll be waiting with a limo full of liquor."

His words were teasing, but it did make you feel better. Seb and Anthony were premiering their latest Marvel movie, and Chris was going in a show of support. He'd brought up the idea that you should join him, and with the excited way he'd asked, you'd had an impossible time saying no. He was beyond excited to be out as a couple – officially – but you were so nervous you thought you might pass out. It wouldn't have been so bad if he was with you but pulling up alone and not knowing how you'd track him down had your leg bouncing again, your fingers flexing to steady the shaking.

Carson slowed the car to a stop, rolling down his window and flashing credentials to a security guard. He waved the limo through, and Carson drove in the procession of limos dropping people off, finally pulling to a stop where you were supposed to get out.

You made eye contact with him through the rear-view mirror, and he gave you soft smile. "You ready?"

"Nope," you said, pulling out the mirror and making sure you were still presentable and hadn't sweated your carefully applied makeup off your face.

Finding everything in order, you slid to the door, pausing with your hand on the handle. "You promise you'll be here?"

"Promise," he confirmed, turning in his seat to face you. "Just text me if you need anything."