A 'SUB' REQUEST (Cate Blanchett x OC)

Chapter 13: A familiar face

"Fuck," Cate and I both scrambled to clean ourselves up as if covering up a crime scene, "hide." 

"You or me?" I whispered loudly. It was truly a gamble at this point. Nobody out there, I assumed, knew that both of us were in this room. The usher knew that I would be here, and perhaps someone else knew Cate was here. So if the wrong person opened the door, it could open a whole can of worms that got both of us in trouble. 

"You," Cate was decisive, "I think I know who it is." 

Before I had the chance to ask who, she had already shoved me into her walk-in closet. Through the crevice of the door, I saw her straightening up her hair and dress and then wiping my lipstick off her shoulders. 

The door opened on none other than Mr. Andrew Upton himself. 

On the surface, he looked perfectly TV-presentable - he was wearing a suit and tie, his normally disheveled hair gelled and in place, which almost distracted us from his pudgy figure, knobbly features and weary negative canthal tilt. But an unmistakable dark energy emanated from him, one that seemed clear as day even to someone hiding behind a closet door. 

"Andrew, how did you know I was here?" 

"Well hello to you too," he said in his bristly Australian accent, one that was much less refined than Cate's charming mix of Australian and British, "you always chose room 38 at the previous Oscars. Nobody walks by this little corner, and you enjoy the privacy." Ironic that her privacy was being unabashedly intruded upon at this very moment.

"What do you need, Andrew?" 

"Can't a man say hi to the mother of his children anymore?" 

Cate sighed. Her face wasn't visible to me, but from the posture of her bare back she didn't look happy. He invited himself in without her permission and closed the door behind her, turning the lock. 

"Sweetheart, I couldn't stop thinking about us ever since London..." he grabbed one of her bare arms with one hand. 

"Now's not the time," Cate tried to brush it away. She turned and started moving around. From my angle I knew that she was trying to block him from my view, to let me see as little of her baggage as possible.

"I've been terribly lonely, you know. I haven't been with anyone since you and I..." He tried to place a kiss on her cheek, but was unsuccessful. 

"You have the kids."

"You know what I mean - " a temper reared its ugly head in him, "a man's got needs." 

"A woman does too, you know?" Cate's rebuttal was quick and emotionless. 

"Why, have you been with anyone?" 

"None of your goddamn business." 

"That's a fuckin' yes then. I know you too well. You'd say no if you haven't." 

"Stop it, Andrew. I want you to leave." 

"C'mon, Cate. This is turning me on - doesn't this remind you of our old fights?" 

Cate's thin waist moved aside, and I saw the bulge in his pants. Nausea washed over me. To my astonishment and anger, she didn't budge when he forced his lips on hers and his stout man fingers marked their territory all over her exquisite torso. It was as if he knew I was there and was putting on a show to traumatize my every sensibility, yet I couldn't peel my eyes away. 

I watched them full on make out, or rather Andrew unleashing his lust on Cate, for about one excruciating minute and decided that it had to end now or I would vomit and reveal my presence in the room. Quick, think of something. I took out my phone, set it to silent mode, and dialed Cate's number. Her phone rang from the couch where we had sex no more than 5 minutes ago. 

To my satisfaction, the noise was more than enough to break them apart. Cate picked up the phone, clearly relieved, saw who the call was from, and ended it. "That's from the boys' nanny," she said, "You should get back to them soon." 

Andrew was visibly flustered - "But what about this boy here?" panting, he pointed to the stiff protrusion below his waist, his pants unzipped now. "He also needs your love and attention..." he put one hand down his boxers and started jerking, as if the brief pause in stimulation would lead to a life-or-death situation.

"Go take care of that yourself." Cate barely looked away from her phone. 

"Fuck it Cate, you can't leave a man hanging like this. Can you just suck on it, I'm all worked up now, c'mon -" 

"No!" Cate raised her voice.

"Just let me put it in for a little bit, I'm so close. Don't I deserve a reward? I've been really good with the kids, just ask them - "

"Go away, Andrew."

"If you don't help me finish right now -" Andrew's face grew red hot, and he flapped his arms around like a little boy whose favorite toy had been taken away after playtime. Burning rage was about to consume me alive - I was shaking in the closet, which gave me claustrophobia all of a sudden, threatening to close in on me. 

"Then what, it's over?" 

He started shouting at the top of his lungs, "Then I'll tell the reporters who are outside this building right now that someone took a photo of another girl walking in here before me! And there will be questions. Lots of them! Bloody hell!" 

A barely visible flash of fear crossed Cate's face. But the immaculate actress that she was, she remained composed. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Just you wait." He pointed a finger at her face, which a moment ago was still clawing into her back. Then he turned around, patted down his own unconsummated erection, and stormed out in a grumpy fit. 

Cate locked the door after him, downtrodden and humiliated. She didn't even bother opening the closet door to let me out - she just dropped to the couch, her face in her hands. I slowly turned the knob, tiptoed out without making a sound, and sat next to her. 

"Thanks for the save," she said absentmindedly, more to herself than to me, "And I'm so sorry you had to see all that..." 

I put my arms around her and didn't say another word. We stayed like this for a good minute, until my phone lit up again with a notification. A text from Hylda Queally.

"Andrew knows now. Soon the world will too." 

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