i miss you, i'm sorry → timothée chalamet.

O38. → sienna

༊*·˚ CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT *ೃ༄

sienna

later that night

"why didn't you tell me before?" haley asked timothée once they were both backstage.

"i didn't know how to bring it up!" he protested. "was that okay? that you found out on tv?"

"it was fun," she told him, smiling. "will you change?" she asked.

"nah, i'm heading home already. you?"

"i'm heading home too, so i'm not gonna change."

"i'll take you to your place first though," timothée said, "just to make sure you get home alright."

"thanks." she grinned, kissing him on the cheek. they exited a back door to avoid the paparazzi out front and climbed into the land cruiser that awaited them.

"we're here," haley said, once they pulled up in front of her apartment. "you don't have to go down, you know..."

"i will." he told her firmly. "could you just go around, circle around, maybe?" timmy asked their driver. "thanks." however, they encountered a problem once the elevator arrived on haley's floor.

"where are my keys?" she asked, digging through her clutch. "finn told me he put them in my bag, what the hell—" after searching both her Extra Clothes Bag and her Actual Bag which was her clutch, haley concluded that her keys were gone. "timmy. my keys are gone."

"you got no extra?"

"i always have my keys." she said, confused. "hang on, let me ask the lady downstairs..." when haley returned, however, she shook her head. "they said finn said he lost his and took their extra one. what the fuck."

"oh my god."

"one last option, just wait. grandpa wilson?" haley knocked on the door across hers.

"wilson? like, mikayla's—"

"— kayla's grandfather, yes."

"who is it?" the old man cracked the door open, then opened it fully when he recognized haley. "haley! c'mere, i haven't seen you in ages," he said, posh as ever.

"hello mr. wilson, i was just wondering if you—"

"— who's that?" he asked, pointing behind her.

"oh, uh, this is timothée chalamet, a friend of mine."

"friend, eh? what again were you here for, sorry?"

"uhm. i was wondering if you knew where kayla keeps the spare key i gave her?"

"she's in los angeles right now darling, i don't think it's anywhere here... i'll try to find it but i don't suppose it's in any of this mess." the old man gestured inside, which was quite the museum of different art pieces, boxes, and more boxes that filled the room.