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foslad · 6 years

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Almost Too Good (A Chris Evans Story): Part 21 - 2/3

A/N: I’m not even going to attempt to explain myself for the absence in posting. I can only apologize because I HATE it when others do this... so I know the frustration and can’t excuse myself for it.

I’ll be honest, these next couple of parts/chapters are a little different and they have me worried but I hope you enjoy anyways! Be sure to check out part 1/3 of this now three-part (instead of two) chapter :)

I’m always so overwhelmed at the love and support I receive, SO THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART! LOVE LOVE LOVE!

The car ride was nice, but mostly quiet...

Despite my inner conclusion to just let it go, an air of awkwardness still hung around Chris and I; like some kind of a bad smell. On any other day we might have talked it out there and then, but the presence of the stranger driving us to the venue intensified our silence to the point where I was acutely aware of the sound of my own breathing.

Occasionally in my peripheral, I could see Chris’ fingers tapping his knee to drum up something to say but, ultimately, he kept quiet for the most part. It was very clear that neither of us felt comfortable bringing up earlier whilst in the company of someone else, so small talk remained small.

With that in mind, I decided to occupy my time with some “mental preparation”. I might’ve looked all lovely and glamorous on the outside, but my insides were a lethal cocktail of self-doubt, worry and pressure. I was keenly aware of the fact that I was going to meet a lot of people that were important to Chris tonight and if they didn’t warm to me, well, then, I was truly fucked.

The car pulled up behind the long queue of other cars and the driver kindly got out and opened the door on my side for me. I smiled gratefully at him, carefully stepping out onto the concrete and out onto whatever tonight had in store for me.

I waited patiently off to the side for a minute or so, looking around at all the tall lit up palm trees that lined the path upwards as Chris corresponded with the driver about how he’d contact him later. The night was a little chilly, so I made sure to pull the shawl that I had draped around my elbows up onto my shoulders until we got inside. With a little nod and wink in confirmation, Chris finally turned back around and acknowledged me.

Comically, my face must’ve screamed I’M IN OVER MY HEAD because he met me with a sweet look of encouragement before a lopsided grin emerged.

He eyed our surroundings fleetingly before his fingers came down and casually entwined themselves around my own. As he led the way up the steep concrete staircase, my eyes trained in on the foreign feeling.

Chris was holding my hand... We’d never held hands before!?

It was such a menial and fleeting action for most couples yet it ignited something inside of me. A surge of butterflies, a stupidly goofy smile, a feeling of utter satisfaction. I liked it. A lot.

Any animosity I had about earlier started to melt away with each step we took as a unit.

Chris had explained to me before that there was no compulsory red carpet or anything. The event was a private get together that allowed those more fortunate than others to let loose and do some good for charity without it turning into a media circus. Of course, unsurprisingly, there were those whose job it was to hide in the bushes out front and capture any little mundane detail, like someone getting their car valeted or someone sneaking a crafty cigarette. So, the “back door” was deemed the “entrance” for anyone not looking to get papped.

‘Is it always held here?’ I leaned over and whispered to Chris, gazing around at the crowded foyer in awe. The gold filigree and mirror decked walls, accentuated by the antiques that adorned the place, were simply stunning, and the marble floors were so pristine, it was easy to see one’s reflection. Now this is what you call, top dollar.

‘Nah, they tend to switch up the venues every year. Last year it was at the Griffith Observatory, which was kinda cool.’ He replied, guiding us towards the small queue of people that waited outside the curtain covered entrance where, presumably, the event was being hosted.

After a moment or two of peacefully taking in our surroundings, it was obvious that we were still feeling a little of that awkwardness lingering; so I was grateful to hear Chris try and strike up conversation again.

‘I know I’ve said it already, but you really do look a million dollars tonight Adrian.’

Stepping forward in time with the quickly narrowing queue, I smiled appreciatively at him before biting my lip and running my eyes over his attire. ‘Thank you, as do you. I like this suit, Evans!’

Chris wriggled his eyebrows and smirked. ‘Why thank you, it’s Gucci.’

‘How appropriate.’ I simpered, lightly trailing my hand down the sleeve of our joint venture’s latest creation.

Truthfully, I took the chance as an excuse to just touch him. I hadn’t wanted to make a fuss earlier, finding myself all but lost in the reunion aspect of our togetherness more than anything, but he really had bulked up lately...

Since I’d known him, Chris had always been in undeniably great shape; but he was almost intimidatingly so now. The navy suit did well to accentuate the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his waist.

I was constantly in awe of the fact that Chris wore any type of clothing just so well. It didn’t matter if it were $100 sweats, or $5000 suits; the man looked good.

After finally passing through the curtain as ‘Chris Evans and guest’, I felt my jaw physically drop almost immediately.

Admittedly yes, I had been in the game long enough to not get star struck easily, it’s like I’ve always said, they’re just people… but never in my life had I been at something that was on this big of a scale. I had been going to the MET Gala for the last seven years, but even that didn’t seem to compare!

I’d never been to The Oscars... but it seemed like my perception of that; on crack.

Firstly, the venue itself was architecturally stunning. The ceilings were ornate, with paintings of clouds and angels (that clearly took inspiration from the Italian Renaissance) and the chandeliers were so grand, that one of them probably cost more than my entire paycheck for my last movie.

On the opposite side of the function “room”, if it could even be narrowed down to a term so loose, was a stage currently being occupied by a podium, extravagant flowers and a backdrop consisting of a painted skyline that was accentuated by tiny lights customized to look like hundreds and hundreds of twinkling “stars”.

Circular tables, dressed decadently for the dinner portion, graced the immediate spaces in front of the stage and nearest to us, stood a large bar area that all the guests seemed to be mingling in; chatting away and having a sneaky drink or two before the proceedings began.

A quick gloss over the room could tell you that this was no regular “gala”. I couldn’t see one person that I didn’t recognize from the entertainment industry; from Colbert to Kimmel, Cruise to Stiller, Aniston to Lawrence; the list could go on…. and on. It practically blew my mind how this “charity event” had somehow slipped under the radar as the best kept secret in Hollywood.

‘Let’s break ourselves in gently, huh?’ Chris decreed, untangling our fingers so he could take my hand and hook it around his forearm - calmly guiding us down the small set of marble stairs towards the bar. I caught myself smiling in appreciation at him, the nerves now truly beginning to kick in at the intense nature of such an occasion.

Looking around, I noticed how strange it felt to feel like you really know someone when, (in reality), you don’t. Unfortunately, I kept having to relay this mantra to myself as I eyed Bryan Cranston, who was stood talking to Gwyneth Paltrow… God I loved that man.

After a minute or so, the search for an actual familiar face was becoming fruitless and I was just about to resign myself to being glued to Chris’ arm all night when some dark locks came into view behind passing strangers. My eyes widened, and a grin formed; like I somehow knew everything was going to be alright now that I had this person in my sights.

In fact, I was so consumed by my discovery that I barely noticed Chris pat my hand and inform me he was off to get us a drink before departing in the opposite direction.

So naturally, I just couldn’t help myself. Weaving myself in and out of Hollywood royalty, I eventually laid my hand on the familiar shoulder and with my best She’s The Man impression, out flew the screechy ‘Sebastian!’ nickname I’d stupidly come up with all those years ago.

Jumping a little in surprise, my victim quickly turned around and his face melted in an immediate gleeful grin. ‘Adrian Warner? Whaaat!?’

Sebastian Stan wasted no time in leaning forward and gifting me a kiss on both cheeks.

‘What is this? Twice, in one year? You’re spoiling me over here, missy!’ He joked, completely leaving behind whoever it was he was conversing with to give me his full attention. I was so happy to see him. To feel like I had an actual ally amidst this celeb-fest was beyond comforting. New York was a whole different scene and I never felt like a “celebrity” there for the most part, so God knows I especially didn’t feel like one here.

‘Right? This feels like Déjà vu from the last time. You’re like my only life line here!’ I admitted with a nervous little laugh.

‘Why’s that? You here by yourself?’

‘No, I’m here with-‘ I paused for a second, searching for the right words, ‘- as someone’s… date.’

Because I was…

He nodded and looked as though he was about to inquire some more before stopping short, his eyes now shooting behind me; just in time to see Chris returning with two stiff drinks in hand.

‘Wait...’ Sebastian’s smirk intensified before his mouth opened fully in complete shock, eyes darting back and forth between Chris and I; the cogs in his brain turning until the click finally materialized. ‘No. Fuckin’. Way.’

‘Dude…’ Chris warned lowly, an almost embarrassed guise on his face as he handed me one of the glasses containing some kind of dark brown consistency.

‘Oh-ho-oh, outstanding!’ Sebastian began cracking up, like he’d just seen a tortoise and a hyena make love and was kinda into it. ‘Noooww I see why you were keeping namey-names a secret, Evans!’

I looked at them both strangely before laughing lightly at Sebastian’s childish use of ‘namey-names’. Chris seemed to return his sentiment with a deliberate silence.

‘What!?’ Sebastian laughed defensively, ‘I approve! I think this is great; two of my favorite people!’

I was delighted with the easy start, but I knew that would all quickly change.

Within twenty minutes, I had gone from the comfort of only Sebastian to the overwhelming depths of reality as Chris Hemsworth, his stunning wife Elsa and the ethereal Elizabeth Olsen introduced themselves and joined the “group” conversation; all three, at least what they thought to be, subtly side eyeing me at any given second.

What discomforted me most (but deep down delighted me), was the fact that it was easy to see the amount of respect everyone had for Chris; to the point where I felt almost unworthy to be by his side. So, I was truly grateful for Sebastian and the history we had in that moment, much like I had been at Chris’ housewarming party. He’d chosen to disclose to the group the time we pulled a prank on our elderly co-star from Tall Bill with a stripper-gram on his 75th Birthday; setting me up to look like a true comedy genius when, truthfully, it’d been a joint effort…

‘No, don’t sell yourself short! You called the company!’ I argued, playfully pointing at Sebastian.

‘Yeah, but then “Misty” turns up in a trench coat… and nothing else! So I straight up bail and as I was peacing out, all I can hear in the distance is “… Is that coat vintage???”

His high-pitched impression of me sent the group off into a chorus of laughter. To see the creases in everyone’s eyes, including Chris’, as they all cracked up at my undeniable obsession with fashion, (to the point where I’d asked a stripper where her coat was from…), was rewarding but mostly relieving.

So far, so good.

I took another tiny sip from the drink in my hand and reluctantly swallowed the strong liquid inside, squinting slightly as I did so. I let my eyes flicker over to Chris, silently questioning his choice of alcohol.

Catching my eye, he bent over and quietly spoke out of the side of his mouth. ‘I thought it might take the edge off a little?’

I wanted to playfully banter with him about why he had one, but I didn’t get the chance.

‘Do you guys know what table you’re on?’ Elizabeth interrupted, her voice so dainty and light as she took a small sip from her champagne flute.

Chris and I looked at one another before shaking our heads in sync, ‘Should we?’ ‘Was there a list?’

‘There’s place cards on all of the tables. We got here early and were bored, so we already had a little snoop around.’ Elsa chuckled, her striking Spanish accent coming through along with her friendly nature. I had quickly warmed to all three of them, finding them to be completely personable despite their immense fame.

Yet it seemed almost cruel that every time I started to settle into my surroundings, another spanner was thrown at me.

‘Well heeey, fancy running into all of you here…’ A deeper voice joked, causing us all to turn around; just in time for Chris to receive a kiss on the cheek in greeting. His deep-rooted smile at her presence confirmed my suspicion as to who this mystery person could be.

I hesitantly took a slightly larger sip of my drink, acutely aware that the pressure was really on now that she was here.

I had always admired Scarlett Johansson for the part she had played in showing that young actresses had the ability to not only be pretty but that they were also very capable of starring in damn good movies. Lost in Translation was still, to this day, a movie I couldn’t skip over if it was showing on TV. Chris had known her for years, since the very beginning of their careers, and had always spoken so fondly of her.

Once Scarlett and her husband had finished greeting the familiar faces in the group, the arresting set of emerald greens finally fixated on me; the only stranger in the circle. I smiled immediately, truly thrilled to meet her before cautiously looking to my left at our common ground.

Eyes popping in realization, Chris rested his hand on the small of my back in assurance and introduced us. ‘And this, is Adrian. Adrian, this is Scarlett.’

‘Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you!’ I stepped forward and held my hand out in greeting.

With the added “emphasis” on my name, Scarlett’s own eyes widened at the “hint-hint” tone that Chris was emitting before she grinned in my direction. Her eyes turned kindly, and she accepted my handshake with what appeared to be true enthusiasm.

Funny, Chris knew that Sebastian was a long-time acquaintance of mine and yet the only person who seemed to know that I even existed in the “romantic sense” towards him was Scarlett. A truly interesting choice. Maybe one day I’d feel comfortable to ask him about it.

Gleefully our introduction seemed to go well, however the “hi, nice to meet you’s” didn’t stop there…

Like a hurricane, I was quickly introduced to production, crew and more cast members alike. Clearly a tightknit “family”, I was blown away by just how many people were interested in meeting Chris’s “date” for the evening.

In an unusual turn of events, unlike how his mother met most of the girls he dated, it felt like his colleagues just weren’t used to meeting the women in his life; which was oddly comforting.

Some people recognized me but for those who didn’t, I stood there and received rounds and rounds of ‘So you’re an actress?’ ‘Are you in anything coming up?’ ‘What’s next for you?’ questions. I knew they were only trying to see if I was just using Chris to further myself, which saddened me a little to think that might have been the case in the past for him.

It warmed my heart to its core when Chris would jump in for me at times. ‘She just wrapped a movie with Ben Affleck, which he directed, right?’ Like he didn’t already know…

‘Yeah, it was a really great project to have been a part of.’ I’d continue, flashing Chris a grateful “smile” with my eyes all the while.

After what felt like forever, the pianist, who had been lowly playing in the background, announced into his microphone that the evening’s festivities would begin in twenty minutes and began asking everyone to take their seats.

Capitalizing on this brief interlude, I handed Chris the dregs of my drink and informed him that I was going to the bathroom.

‘Alright, I’ll find our seats…’ He smiled before pressing an affectionate kiss to my cheek; pride radiating on his face at how everything was turning out.

As I quickly peed, I silently praised Chris’ assistant Jake for the Olive Garden takeout he had brought over earlier; otherwise that hard liquor would’ve gone straight to my head.

Pulling some tissue paper from the holder, I also took the time to reminisce on how well the night had gone so far. Sure it had been a little intense but for the most part everyone had been nice, and to see Chris so overjoyed at the ease of his rapidly unifying worlds was extremely heart-warming. He was so exhausted and stressed, it felt good to be contributing to the lighter aspects in his life.

I eventually stepped out of the stall and didn’t even bother to hide my amazement at the printed cream wallpaper and golden sconces. Each vanity mirror was splattered with age; which only added to its decadence.

I bent down and washed my hands in the mother of pearl sinks, blissfully unaware of the arrival of the girl who had been in the stall next to me.

I grabbed my clutch with my still damp hands and rummaged around for my lipstick, eventually picking it out and pulling the lid off for a top up.

‘Excuse me, could I borrow some soap?’

‘Yeah of course, go ahead.’ I smiled before raising my head to the mirror to apply the lipstick. In doing so, I made direct eye contact with the girl;

…and in that moment, it was like the very depths of hell was laughing at me.

Dressed in crimson red, a set of hazel eyes widened at me in complete horror; wholly surrendered into a state of shock as her expression was reflected into the mirror for us both to see.

‘Oh… my… God…’ The voice squeaked; neither of us removing our vision from the mirror for fear of confirming the horrors of reality on the other side of it.

You know, in a fucked up “funny” kind of way, the last time I had seen Chelsea Hewitt-Lewis, her expression had been much of the same…

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears; easily drowning out all other sounds. In some alternate reality, I knew my initial reaction would’ve been one of watery eyed sobs brought on by a suppressed case of PTSD.

But there was none of that here.

Throwing my lipstick back into my purse and shutting the flap, I quickly backed away; the room spinning as I did so. My mind was blank, my mouth was parted, and my eyes were void of all moisture.

It almost irked me that her own reaction seemed to be a mirror reflection of my inner turmoil. What gave her the right!?

I felt like I would have rather she punched me in the face... because then at least I’d know where we stood.

But I suppose she’d already done that to me two years ago; except her “punch” wasn’t physical.

I fled the bathroom, despite my deep desire to return and just projectile vomit into a stall. My resolute stare was fixated to the ground, but I managed to register the fact that my feet were still carrying me somewhere.

Step by step by step by step. It was inevitable that I was eventually going to crash into something; or someone.

‘Woah, hey, there you are!’ Chris smiled, doing his best to restore our balance as he gently gripped my elbows. ‘I was just coming to find you; I found our table.’

Call it shock, but I found myself nodding like some sort of zombie. Really gripping his arms back, I caught myself tugging at him as a means of leaving the area as soon as possible.

And I almost got away with it, too…

Looking just as shaken as I did, Chelsea exited the bathroom and walked along my already beaten path before eventually recognizing Chris. Raising a brief smile at her new co-star, she sought comfort in the familiarity of it all before noticing who was attached to him.

And that pretty smile fell immediately.

‘Oh, hey! Chelsea, right? I’m Chris.’ He smiled warmly, reaching his hand out upon noticing her back.

My eyes BURNED in response. It felt like the world was on fire and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to straight up slap their hands apart, vomit on them, or both. I never thought for one second that I would curse Chris’ kindness until this very moment.

‘Hi, it’s nice to meet you...’ Chelsea responded shakily, slowing accepting Chris’ hand; her nervousness apparent.

My eyes, once again now void of any moisture, twitched before succumbing to rapidly blinking away this unfolding nightmare.

No.

No, no, NO.

You can’t have him.

Not this one!

My body language reeked of “fuck off before I make you” and she knew it. It was distressing that I almost didn’t recognize myself. I wasn’t an angry or violent person by any means.

‘I should get going, it really was… nice to m-meet you.’ Chelsea bungled out before quickly shuffling away, my stare tracing her as she did so.

My mind was like the aftermath of a tornado and all I could do was attempt to come to terms with, and somehow salvage myself from, the wreckage that was my self-esteem.

I was oblivious to the thousands of dollars being sold off around me. I was oblivious to the fun and laughter that the host was managing to pull from his vast crowd. I was oblivious to all but my own selfish thoughts.

As if the universe didn’t already hate me, there she sat, four seats away, shoveling her food around her plate and avoiding eye contact with the other eleven people at the table as they conversed amongst themselves; much like myself.

Every now and then, I would glance up and observe her.

I truly wondered what was going through her mind? I wondered if she ever actually felt guilt or remorse, or anything for that matter? Was she awkward now because she was confronted with her own hurtful actions?

‘Adrian?’

My head snapped to my left and I clapped eyes on Chris’ concerned face.

‘You okay?’ He eyed me, ‘You seem a little spaced out…’

Spaced out? Oh!

Nodding frantically and rousing a smile, I attempted to bring myself back into the moment. ‘No, no, I’m great.’

‘You sure?’ He eyed me skeptically, ‘You haven’t touched your food… You don’t like it?’

‘No, n-no, no! The food’s amazing!’ I picked up the fork in a feeble attempt at backing up my lies.

‘Then something’s definitely wrong.’ Chris deadpanned, his eyebrows dropping. I managed to let out a genuine little laugh at his concern, touched at the fact he knew me so well.

‘No, I’m okay. Honestly.’ I leaned forward, and we met in the middle for a chaste, but affectionately small peck and I found myself pulling away with a real smile on my face. ‘I think I just need a little air.’

Chris immediately wiped his mouth and dropped his napkin, his hands gripping his seat as he raised himself slightly.

‘Woah, no, no, you stay!’ I quietly commanded, feeling almost overwhelmed at how thoughtful he was being.

Chris eyed me carefully as he slowly lowered himself back down. ‘You sure?’ I rested my hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head as I stepped away from the company. ‘Mhmm. I’ll be back in a second.’

Little did I know, I was going to be followed regardless… and not by Chris.

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I feel like this chapter loses itself in the middle but thank you regardless for getting to the bottom and reading it! I appreciate you so much!

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris fic

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