A/N: This is inspired by the "Friends" episode "The One Where No One's Ready" season 3 episode 2.
The premiere was in less than two hours, and Nicholas was on edge. This was his big night—the launch of his new movie—and the one night he needed everyone to be on time. Yet, here he was, pacing the hotel suite while his five closest friends (you included) were nowhere near ready.
He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. "Guys, we have to leave in 45 minutes! What is everyone doing?"
"I'm trying to fix my hair!" one friend called from the bathroom.
"I think I spilled something on my dress!" another added.
Nicholas groaned, his jaw tightening as he turned toward you. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of a sea of dresses and shoes, holding up two pairs of heels for comparison.
"Y/N, are you serious right now? We're running late, and you're debating shoes?"
You shot him a look, unfazed by his frustration. "This is your premiere, Nicholas. I want to look good for you. Don't rush me."
"You already look good," he muttered under his breath, though his patience was visibly wearing thin.
"Flattery won't get you anywhere," you said, smirking as you held up the shoes again. "But seriously, black or nude?"
Nicholas pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't care, Y/N. Just pick one!"
"Okay, rude," you said, glaring at him. "If you're going to have an attitude, you can leave without me."
"You're not even dressed yet!" he snapped, gesturing to the robe you were still wearing. "And we're leaving in—" he checked his watch—"forty minutes!"
The tension in the room thickened, and the other four friends peeked out of their respective corners, watching the argument unfold.
"Don't yell at me," you said, your tone sharp as you stood up. "You know what? If you're going to be like this, I'm not going at all."
Nicholas's face fell, but before he could respond, you stormed off to the bedroom and slammed the door.
"Great," he muttered, throwing his hands in the air. "Now she's mad."
One of your friends walked over, shaking his head at Nicholas. "You really blew it, man. You know how she is when she's trying to get ready."
Nicholas sighed, his frustration giving way to guilt. He knocked on the door. "Y/N? Can we talk?"
Silence.
"Look, I'm sorry I yelled. I'm just... stressed, okay? This night is important to me, and I want you there."
The door opened, and you stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, your arms crossed. "Well, I'm not going. Problem solved."
"Y/N—"
"I said I'm not going." you interrupt.
Nicholas stepped closer, his voice softening. "Please don't do this. I shouldn't have yelled. I know you're trying to look perfect, and I appreciate it. I do. I just... I need you there. None of this matters if you're not by my side."
You stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. I'll get ready. But you owe me big time, Chavez."
"I'll owe you forever if you just get dressed," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You rolled your eyes and shut the door again, but this time, it was to get ready.
After what felt like an eternity, everyone was finally ready and making their way down to the limo. Nicholas was still buzzing with nervous energy but managed a relieved smile as his friends filed out of the suite.
Then you stepped out of the bedroom.
Nicholas froze. You were stunning. The dress you'd chosen hugged you perfectly, its shimmering fabric catching the light as you moved. Your hair and makeup were flawless, but it was the way you carried yourself—the confidence in your stride—that left him completely speechless.
"Y/N..." he said softly, his voice trailing off as he took you in.
You smirked, walking up to him. "So? Was it worth the wait?"
"More than worth it," he said, his hand brushing against your waist. "You look... incredible."
Leaning in, he kissed you, slow and sweet, as if he couldn't believe you were real. When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours. "I'm sorry again for earlier."
"You're forgiven," you said with a sly smile. Then, just as you were about to walk out the door, you turned back to him.
"Oh, and Nicholas?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm not wearing any underwear under this dress."
His eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly as his brain short-circuited. "You're... what?"
You winked and walked out, leaving him standing there, stunned and completely in love.
By the time you reached the limo, Nicholas was still reeling, but his frustration had completely melted away. As he slid into the seat beside you, he leaned in and whispered, "You're going to drive me crazy tonight, aren't you?"
"Maybe," you teased, resting your head on his shoulder.
And as the limo pulled away, Nicholas realized that no matter how stressful the night had been, having you by his side made everything perfect.
