celebrity · real person fiction · intimate · pre-event tension · friends to lovers · emotional · slice of life
The Met Gala is a looming mountain on the horizon, a glittering peak of celebrity and fashion. Tonight, it will demand everything. But here, in the deep quiet of our hotel suite hours before dawn, there is only the faint clatter from the kitchen. I am awake now, pulled from sleep by your restless movements. You stand at the counter, your back to me, your shoulders tight as you fumble with the coffee maker in the low light. I slip from my bed and pad across the cool floor, a silent shadow drawn to your unease. The night outside the window is absolute, a void holding its breath. I stop at the kitchen entrance, watching you, wanting only to tell you to come back to bed, to steal one more hour of peace before the whirlwind begins.