You Must Be the One

White- Radiance 1/2

I see love in black and white. Passion in shades of "gris". But when it comes to you and I, color is all I see. - Lady Gaga

Venice, 2018

Bradley's stupidly nervous. Which in and of itself is stupid because he wasn't a stranger to premieres or film festivals or press tours. Venice is a beautiful city and he wishes he can enjoy it and it's not because of the tight schedules they're on, either. He and Irina have been at each other's throats lately non fucking stop and even though they've called a truce and she's flying out for the premiere tomorrow, it's all still incredibly strained between them.

Which isn't helping his anxiety. He's confident about what they've all created and still, he can't help but eager to see the reception to it. He's shown it at home to the cast and crew and he's extremely proud of the finished product, but he knows it's different witnessing it on a big screen with a real audience.

The press tour, too, is sweeping and romantic, much like Venice itself and it's particularly easy to get caught up in the whole thing.

He and Stefani are due to make a grand entrance by boat before they head into interviews for the day and though he's used to the spectacle of the whole thing, being on display still makes him vaguely uncomfortable. He much prefers jeans and trainers to Armani and he has it on good authority that while Stefani loves fashion, she'd prefer not to get dressed up if she doesn't have to.

As thrilled and as full of pride as she is to be here (and he knows how much she loves Italy), there's something strained, too. He sees it in how tired she seems, around her eyes. And everything tells him it has something to do with Christian.

They'd spoken about going out to dinner a few days before, just to decompress, and catch up a little. Bradley knew once they got swept up into the grand whirlwind of the actual festival, it'd be difficult to fit in downtime.

But he hadn't seen her since they've arrived. He'd gotten a text on the plane that Christian wanted to do some exploring of the city and extremely apologetically, she cancelled on him.

In and of itself, it was no big deal, of course and it had been tentative plans at best. Still, even the tone of the message wasn't like her and he had to wonder what was going on.

Try as he might, he doesn't like the guy, plain and simple. It's not anything he can specifically put his finger on; more like a general uneasiness whenever he comes around. He's pleasant enough---they shoot the shit, talk in the casual way two people tend to do when they don't really have much in common, but there's something about the other man he doesn't entirely trust.

He can reason that a part of it's jealousy because that's not a complete falsehood. There's more to it than that, though, and everytime he catches a glimpse into her eyes, he suspects he's right.

There's absolutely no satisfaction in that.

They're scheduled for a press conference at two and the boat that's bringing them to where it's being held is right outside of the hotel.

"Hi."

Her hand goes to his elbow gently and he turns to look at her.

She's in a white dress that clings to her hips, falls below her knee. Her hair is pushed back, off of her face and she's illuminated by the sun's reflection; an angel.

"Hey, you." He stumbles for just a second, trying to grasp at the right words. "You look pretty."

Radiant. Radiant, was what he meant. And not for the first time, he inwardly curses being born with a mouth that ran faster than his actual brain, full speed ahead, like he couldn't get the words out quickly enough. More of a perpetual curse than a blessing.