When twenty-eight-year-old Sebastian Stan scores a huge role for Marvel's newest superhero origin movie, secretly dedicated to his best friend's cute obsession with the comics, both Sebastian and (y/n) meet "some guy" from Boston and (y/n) falls in...
Today was the day and instead of feeling great and excited, I felt like I was gonna puke out everything I ate tonight. I was jumpy, but excited too. I mean, I'm part of a Marvel movie! Like, how crazy is that? Couldn't say the same for Chris though. He's the star of the show, he must be dying.
He would never admit it out loud, especially to us, but I already knew Chris had anxiety.
And it showed a lot, most especially behind closed doors, away from the cameras.
Sometimes it got to the point where it made the poor man throw up if everything was a little bit too much for him to handle. I've seen Chris go to the bathroom at least three times this lunch. I wanted to check up with him since I've been in the same situation, but Seb told me that we should leave him be for now and let him come to us if he actually needs it; he was already under a lot of pressure.
I was now doing my makeup for the event and I was in a robe, under it were my short cycling shorts on and a black satin bralette. We — me, Chris, and Seb — all decided to go to the premiere together since we were all close to each other, emotionally (pfft— what?) and literally. And to avoid suspicion because of that damn paparazzi incident, I would be going in the first few minutes and meet up with Sophie.
I decided to get something simple and elegant for the premiere, so I got myself a short dark blue swing dress (cause, its Captain America guys) and had my block wrap up heels to pair them with cause I knew I couldn't walk in stilettos for the life of me.
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I insisted that I would grab our clothes from the dry cleaners but Sebastian said he'd do it instead since I had a lot to do for the premiere, like makeup and how the whole event would flow. And he just bolted for the door before I could throw in my part of the argument.
"You done yet?"
I turned around and saw Chris wearing a linear printed button up, black slacks, and tinted glasses, clutched in his right hand was a dark blue silk tie.
I slowly lowered the eyeliner from my eyes and crossed my arms, an eyebrow raised as I eyed the stiff bodied man in front of me. A small smirk started to shape my lips as I realized what Chris was doing. "Christopher Robert Evans, don't tell me you—"
