There was barely time for sleep with how fast everything came together for the Oscars. You didn't know what made you more nervous, the red carpet and ceremony or possibly screwing things up with Natasha. The second one. She can get scary.
"Wow, princess," A low wolf whistle sounded from your living room entrance as you sat hunch over on the floor downing a burger – because, let's be honest, they ain't gonna feed you there and you didn't want to drink on an empty stomach – in your custom designed Louis Vuitton Oscar worthy gown that glimmered in the light as it spread around you, "I don't think you've ever looked sexier."
You snorted a laugh, rolling your eyes, because you knew she was taking the piss, and was probably getting a kick out of all the people fussing around you, holding their breath and praying you didn't get a grease stain on it, "Yeah, take a picture, it's – no don't really!"
You couldn't help but to laugh again as you caught her already taking a few and you heard some gasps as you jostled the wrapped piece of greasy death in your hand. It was honestly for nothing though because you were a professional and have eaten many a messy thing while wearing things worth just as much. But it was different this time because you haven't had a burger in five years and you couldn't say no when the redhead offered you one, glaring at everyone else and daring them to protest. Your nutritionist was quivering in his booties. Still is.
You finished up and stood before you noticed she was glaring around again, the room quickly emptying to your confusion with hushed tones.
But then she was stepping forward to wipe your lip with the pad of her thumb, looking at you with a heavy dose of admiration, a small smile twitching at her lips, "Ready to win an Oscar?"
"Nah," You shook your head, and she raised her eyebrows, looking amused, "I'm going to drink my weight in free booze, talk about Louis all night, and hopefully meet Princess Leia's daughter. I'm a big fan," You let out a wistful sigh, "Wanna come with? Not too late."
She pursed her lips, trying not to smile, before she cupped your shoulders, "As gorgeous as you look in that gown and how much fun watching you win and meeting your favorite celebrity's daughter would be, I have to pass," You pouted, so she sighed loudly, starting to smile, "Maybe if it's not too late when you get back from the after party, we could have our date early."
You beamed at her, "Hopefully it gets cancelled then."
She laughed, shaking her head before she kissed your cheek, careful of your hair and makeup, but you just leaned into it with a soft hum and sooner than you'd like, everyone piled back into the room as the time to leave grew closer.
You've been in this industry for nearly ten years, the motions of getting ready, driving in the back of a dark car to an event, walking out onto the carpet, and having cameras flash in your face are all old hat. You loved that fans had shown up just to get to see a few moments of you posing for the camera, supporting you more than you deserved, and you couldn't help but to dance over to the barricade, snap a few selfies, and thank them for coming. They were all smiling and cheering, looking like a mass of your favorite faces, you even hugged a few who subtly went for it first. They made any doubts you might've had about tonight dissipate in a moment.
"Y/n Stark! Here we have Y/n Stark!" An interview called over and Johnny escorted you over to stand next to them with a camera facing you now, but you didn't mention the disappointment of being pulled away from your fans so quickly, "How're you feeling tonight, Y/n? You look gorgeous!"
"Thank you, it's all Louis Vuitton and a bit of Tiffany's," You told them with a smile, gently touching your necklace, "And I'm feeling super grateful to be here, it's such an old, classic, glamorous ceremony that I think-"
