"charmed, i'm sure."

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BASICALLY they're both famous, and hajime kinda hates nagito because he thinks he's stuck up and etc but when they meet for the first time something changes his mind 👀
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Hinata was not at all excited to be going to this party. Albeit, it was more like a gathering for the rich and famous to mingle and get more publicity, but it was nothing but inconvenient to him. Sure, he main gain more national prominence from this, but at what cost? He didn't need more paparazzi swarming at every location he left.

And, of course, there would indeed be many of the infamous spoiled brats and sneering faces he and many others despised. Unfortunately, his agent was going to force him into a bejeweled limousine or drag him there by the teeth if he refused, so, he was out of luck. He already had a reputation as an infamously snappy misanthrope, so he didn't need the magazines garnering more attention over a missed absence. He was going to have to attend this vile party and act like he enjoyed it. Whether that meant kissing some politicians ass, he didn't know.

During the dreary ride towards the venue, his mind began to wander to the many people he would have to interact with, a certain face appearing. Of course. He was going to have to meet with Nagito Komaeda, the strikingly dazzling and equally as stuck-up model. He was plastered over the front page of every popular magazine, with people drooling over him left and right. Obviously, Hinata wasn't yet at the level that he had met him officially yet, but he could tell his personality wasn't as angelic as that godforsaken head of hair he had.

Hinata. He was an actor that was beginning to grow popularity, especially after his debut starring in a sequel movie series. The lines he had spent endless hours memorizing began to become muddled in his head. The fame was something he had never expected to gain so quickly, but apparently, as the magazines said, his acting was nothing short of the greatest, and he was on his way to "becoming a national phenomena." To be honest, he didn't spend much time looking at his face on the magazines. After a while, each positive comment started to look sugarcoated and envious. Obviously not something he would voluntarily subject himself to.

The familiar glow of expensive lights and repulsive scent of faux vanilla filled his senses. Hinata could feel his happiness dwindling like a broken glass bottle dripping whatever liquid was held inside of it. He mustered up his best impression of someone happy to be there and stepped out of the car, smoothing down the wrinkles in his suit. People were already mingling around, even though he had made it there in perfect timing. Punctuality was always an important quality to him.

No one in particular stood out to him. Everyone was wearing some bland combination of white, blue, and black. A few figures donned in scarlet stuck out, but no faces were recognized. Hinata was wearing something equally as boring as the crowd, but he still scrutinized each flash of white he saw. He covered his face as cameras frantically clicked. The carpet underfoot was a Hollywood cliché of red, and the lacy decor was an unflattering shade of off-white.

The second he reached the shelter of the interior, safe from the public's eye, he immediately migrated towards the bar. He didn't particularly enjoy alcohol, but anything to get his mind off of his draining evening. As an introvert, he didn't do well amidst a crowd of people, especially with classical music bursting his eardrums. He also didn't know scratch of the proper decorum expected of him in a place like this, surrounded with people of such status.

Sounds of excited adolescent cheering interrupted his thoughts, knowing immediately that the star of the evening was entering. Even some of the attendees were fidgeting excitedly, grasping for a chance to talk to the one who arranged this gathering. Upon being a national presence, Komaeda was also filthily rich from his inheritance. He came from old money, money so aged it was probably rotting at this point. He was the last in the line of successors, and would be the one to end the Komaeda bloodline.

Komaeda felt his lungs release the crushing pressure inside them the second he waltzed into the venue. Although it didn't seem like it, Komaeda hated the cameras. He hated the fame, the excess money, the fan girls. He just did a phenomenal job at hiding it, stuffing his discomfort into a little box at the back of his mind. He slicked back his hair, taking in a large breath of stale, vanilla air. Even though he was the one who arranged this, he would rather get eaten alive by wolves than be here.

He looked around, begging silently for a familiar face. One reached his periphery. Hajime Hinata. He hadn't met him personally, of course, but he had seen his fame start to spark to life, and felt happy for him. Komaeda did also idolize him quite a bit, embarrassingly. Maybe I should talk to him? I should try to make a few acquaintances here. He had heard that Hinata wasn't well-known for his liking of people, but maybe Komaeda could give it a shot. Well, he was known for overflowing charisma, so maybe he could fake being confident.

Not much could go wrong, either. If he approached Hinata and was hushed away with a glare or such wouldn't be horrible, albeit a bit embarrassing. He absentmindedly fixed his appearance in small ways; adjusting his hair, smoothing down his clothes, fiddling with his jewelry. He took one last unsteady breath and moved forward.

Hinata felt himself shrink in apprehension and annoyance as Komaeda himself approached him, a hand reached out. Getting a closer look at him, Hinata felt his cheeks grow red.

The magazines truly didn't do his beauty justice. He had seen Komaeda's million dollar smile for months, but seeing it in person was indescribable. He felt like he'd run himself mad from all of his panicked thoughts. Komaeda cleared his throat, offering his hand to Hinata in a polite elegance. "Komaeda Nagito." He winked at Hinata, earning a nervous cough from him in response. "Charmed, I'm sure."

Hinata hesitantly grabbed Komaeda's hand, shaking it for a few seconds, but the tension seemed to stretch them out. The terse greeting felt uncomfortable, and Hinata wished for something more extravagant. "Hinata Hajime." His voice was slightly hoarse, but he adjusted it with a simple clearing of his throat. "I'm sure you know who I am."

"Indeed I do. Your face has been on quite the travel recently. It must feel strange gaining popularity so quickly, eh?" The easy flow of conversation from Komaeda was comforting, since Hinata's mind was so muddled that it almost felt blank.

"I guess. Though, I don't enjoy the cameras in my face at all times." The small height difference between the two was slightly intimidating to Hinata. I guess my thoughts of him were incorrect. He seems nice enough to me.

"You get used to it quite quickly, I promise." He smiled again, causing a swarm of anxiety to send Hinata's mind into overdrive. Hinata smiled back, but it looked more awkward than anything.

"Hopefully." He felt his soul leave his body, right there, in that moment, when one dreaded question escaped from Komaeda.

"Can I have your number?" Hinata coughed again, his throat feeling like it was closing.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Sorry." He fumbled for his phone as a smirk appeared on Komaeda's face, one that went unnoticed.

That night, Komaeda walked away from Hinata, successfully capturing his number (and, unknowingly, his heart). He felt accomplished at each of Hinata's nervous mishaps, finding them all quite endearing.

In moments like these, he was more than grateful for his charisma and magnetism, which tonight, had garnered him the number of one of his newly discovered idols.
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eksnwnwkjwnebejej i love writing flustered hajime
yet another writing style switch! i had another one shot in progress but was too embarrassed to continue it ☠️

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