The trouble with the fact Maverick was dead serious about putting the Grammys on for the dog to watch was that Everleigh left the hotel room first. Which only meant that when Maverick walked out, having slid his jacket on inside, she got the first look at what he looked like with his outfit pulled together. And suddenly leaving the hotel seemed like a terrible idea—more than it already did as a couple debuting on the carpet—and while the outfit looked phenomenal on him, it would also look incredible on the floor. Yikes.

Maverick waved his hand in front of her face.

God, Everleigh hoped that he hadn't been talking to her, not a single word had been heard. She blinked. "Hmm?"

"Do I have something on my face?"

"Uh. No."

"Staring pretty hard." Maverick looked down. "Did I spill something—"

"No."

"Rosé?"

"God, Kingston, no."

Maverick stayed quiet for a moment. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth when it finally dawned on him. God almighty. "Oh. Are you—"

"Cut it out."

"What if I said Scream 2—"

"You're going to the ceremony."

"—or Billy Loomis."

"Kingston Maverick."

"I don't know if saying my name is helping or hurting you right now."

"It's..." Everleigh swatted him in the side with the lint roller, only there to get anything Dewey might've added while Maverick tried to leave the room, but clearly needed to stop the waterfall of words from his mouth. (Stop thinking about his mouth.) An eruption of giggles bubbled out of Maverick. "Shut up."

"Look, everyone is shocked I'm ready," Maverick said, taking it from her hand gently. He opened the hotel room again, quickly tossing it after he checked that he wouldn't hit Dewey. "It wouldn't be a shock if we were late anyway."

"We're not going to be late."

"At least it would be enjoyable," Maverick said, taking a small step toward her, about to take her hand in his.

Everleigh took a step backward purely for her own sanity. Tucked her hands into her pockets for good measure. Squeezed the living hell out of the contents of said pockets—maybe she should've packed a stress ball. Roman had given her one once upon a time.

Maverick snorted out a laugh. "You're really not going to let me hold your hand?"

Everleigh stood a little straighter. "Not right now."

"Really?"

"We're going to the cars—" Everleigh said, "on time. And you are standing far enough away from me that I don't have to think about—" She waved her hand at his torso. A loss for words.

"You're going to the red carpet as my date—"

Everleigh was going to pass away. She'd leave Stevie everything. Fuck everyone else. Fuck Maverick. No, wait—Stop. Not like that. Maverick was slowly getting closer and Everleigh backed into the wall across the hall from their room.

"—for me—"

"Maybe I'm going for Stevie—" Everleigh quirked an eyebrow.

"—and you don't want me to touch you?"

"Ah, ah, ah." Everleigh held a finger up.

"Hmm?" Maverick hummed. A little too happy. Hand finding her waist, easily. Running along it until it reached the small of her back. His fingertips gently traced the paper plane tattoo hidden under her dress, like he'd memorized the location. Eidetic fucking memory.

"You keep it up," Everleigh said, a hand resting on his chest. "You're not getting anything after the ceremony."

"Why not both—"

"Do not say both."

Maverick laughed. "It might cause Jenny less of a headache if I don't show. You're sabotaging her."

"Oh, am I?"

Everleigh's hand found the nape of his neck and pulled him close for a quick kiss. She tried to pull away, but Maverick's other hand pulled her back. Hadn't even opened his eyes. Whoever invented smudge-proof lipstick deserved a damn award.

When Maverick decided it was time to pull away, he did so with a smile. "What if—"

Everleigh finally took his hand. If she didn't start walking to the elevator that moment, she might've heard him out about skipping the ceremony. The small look down to their hands was enough of a distraction that Everleigh slid herself out from between him and the wall. An escape made as she dragged him down the hall toward the elevator that someone was actively walking out of.

The doors sliding closed made a breath slip from Everleigh. Nonsensical for such a small space, but it helped.

Maverick leaned into her side a little. "You know what they say about mirrors."

Nope. It didn't help. She retracted that statement. God al-fucking-mighty.

"You need to stop talking."

Maverick chuckled. A little lowly. Little shit.

"I'm going to make Brendon sit beside you."

"I am bis—"

"Stop."

"Jealous?"

"Stop actually means don't go. Did you know that?"

Maverick poked her in the side. Everleigh squirmed.

"Oh?"

"Do not."

"You know..." Maverick went to run his hand down her side again. "I think Jonathan Larson picked the wrong colour."

"Not this again."

"Blue, blue dress..." Maverick pressed a couple kisses to her shoulder.

"Kingston."

"Pleasure to unwrap..." He'd made his way to the crook of her neck.

"Kingston Maverick."

"Cool me down before I jump into your thighs..."

Saved by the fucking bell. Everleigh took his hand and dragged him out of the elevator, all the way out to the back where they were told to meet for their cars. She grabbed him by the shoulders, placed him where she needed him. Took a few steps away.

"Come on, Meadowlark."

"Nope." Took a couple more steps away.

Not far enough not to hear Maverick laugh.

MARS joined them about thirty seconds after, Jenny in stride. Stevie went to join Maverick, immediately starting to flick each other. (Stevie looked stunning.) (Even with the ruby red of her dress fabric, she looked like she could have been carved from marble, placed in only the world's most wonderful museums.) (Who needed the Venus de Milo when Stevie Kealoha existed?) Everleigh looked away from the two of them—probably for her own good. The sun hit Maverick in ways that made her want to sneak him away from Jenny and go back to the hotel room.

For someone with an arm practically glued to Lauren, who also looked gorgeous in her dress, Jun shot Everleigh a questioning look, eyes motioning to how far away she was standing from Maverick.

Everleigh brushed the gaze off. Shook her head. The last thing she needed was to admit each horny little thought she was having about Maverick. His ears only. Even then.

She vaguely heard Stevie and Maverick talking about the bet they'd made—Maverick had been drunk after Everleigh's graduation party and bet her that if they won duo/group that he'd tattoo her name on him; it was a wonder he ever thought she'd say no to that—and Jun immediately wandered over to get the full story. Everleigh was a little too drunk to stop him, but that was fine. It was his body.

"You have a tramp stamp?"

One look over her shoulder saw Maverick suffering in an all too loud silence. "... No?"

Stevie turned around. "Everleigh, can you describe the tramp stamp in detail while I decide on where this new tattoo should go?"

Everleigh stared walking over to the group immediately.

"Baby, you don't have to—" Maverick protested.

"You know the Twilight font?" Everleigh asked.

"God damn it," Maverick muttered.

Look. If he was going to spend the rest of their lives with her, he was going to have to get used to the fact that he looked cute when he was embarrassed. Sorry, Maverick.

"Iconic font," Jun said, nodding, "yes."

"It's Kristen Stewart written in that font."

Maverick narrowed his eyes at her. "Snitch."

"I'm going to lose my mind." Maybe Jun deserved the Oscar out of the bunch. He was calm in spite of the statement.

"Okay," Stevie said, "either above your butt or on your middle finger."

"I'm sorry but I need to see this one day," Jun said.

"I might have a picture of it." If might meant definitely and definitely meant all she wanted to do was check to make sure Maverick was wearing boxers in the photo. She was pretty sure he was.

"You do not—"

"You have my number," Jun said.

Everleigh pulled her phone from the pocket of her dress. (Still the greatest thing ever, thank you, Indy Yamaguchi.) After assuring that the photo was safe for consumption, she texted it to Jun and pocketed her phone again.

"I definitely want to flip you off with your own name," Maverick said to Stevie. "Middle finger it is."

"Maybe Kristen will be here and you can flash her the tramp stamp," she commented.

Jun looked at the photo and let out a small laugh. "This is the best and worst thing I've ever seen in my life. Bash! Come look at this!"

"I seriously should've gone back to bed," Maverick said. Everleigh took his hand, he tucked it into his jacket pocket. Squeezed it. Nerves, not actual anger.

Brendon walked over, took about a half second glance at the photo. "Is this Maverick with a Kristen Stewart tattoo?"

"I really love that you guessed that without any context," Stevie said.

"Seems like a Maverick thing to do."

"It was a bet."

"Maybe that means you need to stop making bets that end up permanent," Everleigh said.

"For the record, the Kristen Stewart tattoo was a bet I won."

"Did you though?"

"You really do need to stop making these bets," Stevie said.

"Are you calling off our bet then—" Maverick started.

"Absolutely not," Stevie said. "We're winning this damn thing and I'm becoming immortalized on your middle finger."

"Think you've immortalized yourself on your own, but sure," Maverick said.

Stevie looked like he'd told her his favourite position in bed. Actually, they told each other everything. Everleigh had damn near died when she found out he'd told her about Scream 2. Maybe she already knew. Either way, she looked bloody disgusted.

"Ew," Jun said, "you two are complimenting each other."

"I didn't say anything," Stevie said. "Leave me alone."

"I'll take it back," Maverick said. "It's disgusting him. We don't want that."

"Come on, you fiddleheads," Rami said. "The car is going to leave."

A glance at Maverick while everyone else's attention was on Rami meant Everleigh got to see how proud he looked at another member of the vegetable insult club.

"Rami," Jenny said. "Not you too—"

"What?" Rami asked. "It's kind of catchy."

"I should have left with Marty."

"Then who would make sure all of us make it there in one piece?" Seira asked. Her pink hair glistened in the golden hour of sun.

"If you win," Jenny said, "I'd just accept it in your honour while you take a joyride to the hospital."

Oh, good. More trips to the hospital. And she wasn't even being paid that time.

"They know they're your favourite peas in a pod, Jenny," Maverick said. The global warming to the thin ice he was already on. "Couldn't leave without them."

"And when I strangle you for starting this?" Jenny asked. "Then what?"

"You can blame Stevie for the fact I'm not sleeping through the ceremony," Maverick said. Like that cleared his name. If he were a pilot, his callsign would be Headache. Or maybe Tardy. "She wanted me here."

"You're literally nominated with them," Jenny said. "And I still owe you a smack for the Escape Velocity party photobooth incident."

Maverick didn't need another threat. He sprinted toward one of the cars and, promptly, whacked his head on the door as he dove inside. Nothing would stop him from trying to get away from Jenny.

"Now you fucked up your hair, you radish," Stevie said.

Maverick rubbed his head; newly rebleached blonde curls bouncing back. "Going to look worse when Jenny kills me so it's fine. Get in the car. Don't be a—" Maverick caught himself. Electing for life. "Silly goose."

"That's... fine."

"Live to see another day, Mav," Stevie said.

"You're next, Stevie."

Proving that women are superior, Stevie makes it to the car gracefully and steadily, even while in heels. A goddess move from Everleigh's favourite deity. Even if her second favourite looked handsome as all hell.

"This should be..." Rami chose his words carefully. "Fun."

*

"That's... a lot of people."

There were already a 1000 people on the carpet. Cameras flashing. Interviews being conducted. Everleigh wanted to vomit.

Maverick had probably lost the feeling in his fingers at that point with how hard Everleigh squeezed his hand. A bundle of nerves; wrapped into bulimic tendencies and how Maverick had made sure she'd eaten something every day since graduation and the fear that her red carpet debut with Maverick was going to send people into some stupid Twitter tizzy that she would unfortunately care too much about. The only reassurance was that they weren't alone. They had Stevie and Brendon red carpet-debuting. Even Jun and Lauren were. Bunch of firsts for a bunch of bozos and Everleigh still somehow felt alone in it. Even if it was a couples debut.

Everleigh took a deep breath.

"You alright?" Brendon asked Stevie.

The same time Maverick looked at Everleigh and signed you OK?

She nodded.

"Not sure if I have a pulse but I think I'm good," Stevie said. Everleigh wanted to take her nod back at just sign what she said.

Everleigh must've looked rough, because the worried expression on Maverick's never left. He stared back at the crowd. "What if," he proposed, "we just sprint to where the nearest bottle of booze is and avoid the photographers—"

"Sounds good to me," Stevie said.

"Not sure how either of you think you're getting past all of that."

"It's called a bisexual speed walk," Maverick told Brendon.

"Which one of you bisexually trips on the way there?"

"Stevie's the one in heels—"

"Then again," Stevie said, "you're you so—"

"Alternatively," Maverick said, "we can use Bash and Everleigh as shields."

Everleigh rolled her eyes. "He says like Bash and Everleigh aren't sitting right here."

"I think that's a good idea, yes," Stevie said. Looking the same amount of panicked Maverick did and Everleigh felt she did. "And just to be sure, red carpet protocols means not holding each other in a headlock when they ask to take your pictures, okay? Please verbally respond so I know you heard me."

"Roger," Everleigh said.

Maverick nodded.

"Verbally," Everleigh reiterated.

"Uh-huh."

"That was not convincing," Stevie said.

"I will not put anyone in a headlock on the red carpet," Maverick said, "but that doesn't mean I think it's a shitty idea to sprint to the liquor."

"Jenny is going to kill us," Stevie said, "and if she doesn't, Marty will put his Crocs in sport mode and hunt us down. We've all been warned."

"Alright then," Brendon said, doing up a button and getting out of the car. Tick another box for him being the better significant other to have on a red carpet—Everleigh felt like she was going to puke. He was probably used to the cameras and the chaos. Everleigh's kind of chaos was a code white that got her punched in the face like the hit came from life itself. "Let's go."

"On second thought," Stevie said, "do we have to leave the car?"

"Everyone else is standing outside and waiting for us," Brendon said. "You can do this, Stev."

"Fine, but Mav and I are getting shit-faced as soon as possible," Stevie said. (A bad time to mention he'd been sipping rosé all day, probably.) She held Brendon's hand as she stepped out of the car. "Thanks, babe."

"Of course." Brendon poked his head back in the car. "Would Meadowlark like to make a quick getaway so she doesn't get stuck behind Mav?"

Everleigh wanted to stay in the car and have it take her back to the hotel by herself. Watch the ceremony with Dewey in her lap and never have to wear a dress again. This seemed like the lesser of two evils. At least Brendon wouldn't let her fall on her face.

"If it means I get off the carpet sooner, absolutely." Everleigh took Brendon's hand and carefully stepped out of the car with his support. "Thanks, Bash."

"Maverick," Brendon said. "No sudden movements, please."

"I'm not that helpless." Saying that was like saying I'll be right back.

Stevie took a couple steps to the side to try and clear room for hurricane Maverick who was slightly tipsy and all too nervous and couldn't figure out how to walk to the point Everleigh probably should've checked he'd put his shoes on the proper feet. In doing so, Stevie tangled herself up in her dress and stumbled backward. Before anyone of importance could notice, Everleigh caught her. When she turned around, the same had happened to Maverick and Brendon, respectively. Game-saving catches all around.

"You two haven't made it more than three feet away from the car," Lauren said as the rest of the band took notice of the two of them, "and you're already falling over yourselves."

"Think tripping is better than puking." Maverick straightened his outfit.

"Don't say that to Stev—" Jun said.

"Okay, but what if, hypothetically," Stevie said. Words on the brink of shaking. "I also puked earlier and now feel like I'm going to—"

"It'll be fun," Brendon said, taking Stevie's hand. A grounding beacon. "I promise."

"It'll be fun when I'm fuckin' drunk—" Stevie said.

The rest of MARS walks onto the carpet before them. Probably to avoid seeing Maverick trip again. Maybe the rosé had been a bad idea.

"Is the gang ready?" Stevie asked.

"Ask them," Brendon said. "I'm not the one that almost ate it."

"Ready as I'll ever be," Maverick said. Even with the chaos of everything happening around them, Everleigh could hear him swallow hard from beside her before he looped his arm with hers.

Everleigh's stomach either fell out her ass or shot into her throat and at that present moment, she truly couldn't tell which it was. "Mhmm. Good. Ready." To vomit, maybe. Crikey. Get it together, Everleigh.

"God, Brendon's the only normal-looking person here," Stevie said. She looked at her boyfriend.

Everleigh didn't quite catch what Stevie said after that because Maverick nudged her in the ribs.

"Are you actually okay?"

"No."

"Me neither."

"Hold my hair if I vomit?"

"Got you, Meadowlark."

"Okay," Stevie said, "Let's go."

The red carpet was a thousand times worse than Everleigh had prepared herself for. Sure, she expected people to call Maverick's name as they walked out. She wanted them to take his picture, plaster him wherever with the caption, Maverick arrived at the Grammys for his first nomination looking dapper in a suit by Indy Yamaguchi. But what she didn't expect: her own name. Supposed that came with the gig of being his girlfriend, but she more expected a hey, you! The one holding your boyfriend like he's an oxygen tank and you're running out of air! Over here!

Maybe Maverick was right that they needed alcohol as soon as humanly possible. Odds were she could sneak away and it was unlikely people would notice her absence, spare Maverick and maybe Stevie. That was a good thing to hold onto as cameras continued flashing at her.

Although her stomach swirled, she kept her balance. No woman overboard that night, she wanted to be there for Maverick. His nerves were understandable but his excitement was contagious. There was no denying the cocktail of both being shaken on ice inside him. She wanted to be as present as she could for him. Even if that meant he squeezed her hand until it went purple.

Everleigh didn't wear dresses enough to know if it was a nervous tick, but when she wrapped her arm around Maverick and felt the bodice of her dress move, her movement was reactionary. Too many cameras were there for her to not check that nothing was showing. Her head tilted down, hand quickly adjusting the top of her dress so no one had any reason to crucify her on the internet. When she looked back up, Maverick was standing in front of her, back to the cameras. No one wanted photos of the back of a nominee's head and he knew that. Everleigh's heart fluttered in her chest.

Maverick smiled softly. "You good?"

"Good." Everleigh smiled. "Thank you."

After what felt like 1000 photos with Maverick, they posed for 1000 more with Stevie and Brendon. While Maverick and Brendon pulled out a wonderful Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio—you know exactly who was who—Stevie kissed Everleigh's cheek for some photos that Everleigh would definitely keep her eye out on the internet for. Paparazzi bait, trending worldwide. As they predicted and as they should.

When reunited with Maverick—Stevie gave her away like the red carpet was the aisle at a wedding, one last kiss on the cheek—he whispered in her ear, "We have interviews next. Are you okay?"

"Do you want me there?"

"Up to you."

Everleigh bit her lip. The nerves took over the part of her that wanted to be by his side all night.

"Try one out and go from there?"

Everleigh nodded. Maverick squeezed her hand and walked over to their first interviewer of the night. She was enough in her own head that she didn't even hear them introduce themselves. All she could see was the bright red recording light on the camera.

"Before the music questions, can we ask who you two are wearing tonight?" the interviewer asked. "You both look wonderful."

"A good friend of mine designed these," Maverick said. "Indy Yamaguchi. She's LA-based and probably my new go-to. She's phenomenal and captured every part of what we wanted to for these outfits."

"Really captured Escape Velocity," they said, looking at Everleigh. "Can you give us a twirl?"

Everleigh must've looked like she'd rather walk into traffic, because Maverick covered for her quickly and easily.

"Sure." Letting go of her waist, Maverick took a step back and spun around, his jacket flaring at the bottom from the breeze. "Indy put a lot of hard work into this and it would be criminal not to show it off." Replacing where he had been before, Maverick placed his arm around Everleigh's waist again. A silent rub up and down her side let her know he was there for her. She didn't have to do anything she didn't want to. Everleigh needed a drink.

"Are you excited for your first nomination?" the interviewer asked, ready to move on from Everleigh's awkwardness. "Any nerves on the night?"

"I think the only other carpet I've been to was for Work, Wife," Maverick said. "Which was where I met MARS, of course. Feels kind of fitting the second one is because of them, too."

"Are you disappointed that Revive wasn't nominated?" they asked. "Fans were up in arms on Twitter when the nominations were announced. They thought For Her especially deserved a nod for song of the year."

Maverick laughed. "Thank you. But if we're talking about snubs, you should call up Nikau Reed or any of the other talented artists of the year who aren't nominated, but should be. I know he's one of the best up and coming artists and his debut deserved to be nominated. It sucks things are limited when so many people could be standing here."

(Well done, Maverick, insulting the Academy before the ceremony.) (Everleigh could practically hear Jenny screaming that he was a PR nightmare.)

"MARSxMaverick is already trending worldwide," the interviewer said. "Fans are excited that you and MARS are finally performing the L live together for the first time. Song of the summer is an understatement."

"Honestly," Maverick said. "It's amazing being here and getting to perform, but I don't think any of us expected it to blow up like it did. We're glad the fans enjoyed it, that the Academy enjoyed it. But for me? I think that getting to make something great with some of my best friends was worth everything to get it to where it is now. The L is about love, but without friendship, it wouldn't have gotten where it was."

"Amazing," the interviewer said. "Well, thank you so much. I'm going to let you go. Don't want to keep you all night."

"Thank you," Maverick said.

"Have a great rest of the night."

"You too!"

Bless Kingston Maverick's soul for not being like all the other artist's who immediately found another interviewer. He ignored the people calling his name and pulled her to the side. There really wasn't any way to be in private on a red carpet, but he tried his best.

"So, you hated that," Maverick said.

"Indeed."

"I think there's alcohol inside the venue."

"Perfect."

"If you have something to drink, so you want to potentially try again or should I keep going by myself?"

"I—" Everleigh took a deep breath. "I need a rain check on that answer. A champagne rain check."

"Take all the time you need," Maverick said. He looked around a little, spotted Stevie not far away. "I'm going to go crash Stevie's interview."

"You're what?"

Maverick grinned. "Look. If Jenny's going to kill me before the performance, I'm sure boy wonder can figure his way around a piano. Sing about himself."

"That's a terrible idea."

Maverick laughed. "Better than answering the same questions for the rest of the night."

"Have fun."

"Drink something good for me."

Everleigh nodded. Maverick held his fist out, which made her snort. Pounding her knuckles against his, they both made an exploding motion with their hands.

"I love you."

"I love you. Don't put Stevie in a headlock."

Maverick's eyes widened. "Go big or go home, Meadowlark."

Everleigh elected that booze was definitely the way to go on that one instead of try to convince him not to do something he had already decided he was doing. Walking in the direction of the entrance, Everleigh spotted Brendon just inside. Even though she didn't want to trip over her dress—though that fear was ridiculous when the dress didn't drag on the ground—she kept her head up. When Brendon noticed her make a beeline for him when there was a gap in celebrities, he looked to who Everleigh hoped was a bartender and held up three fingers. By the time she reached him, Brendon was already holding out two champagne flutes toward her.

"Two?"

"Looked like you needed to catch up."

"Thank you."

Brendon and Everleigh clinked their glasses together. Champagne wasn't normally a drink shot like tequila, but that night it was. After maybe a couple more drinks—and a trip to the washroom to make sure she wasn't as rosy as she felt (only a little)—Everleigh made her way back out to the carpet. A little more relaxed than she had been before. Like clockwork, Everleigh spotted Maverick in the crowd and made her way over to him.

Maverick kissed her cheek and wrapped his arm around her waist as they approached another interviewer.

"Hey! Real Hollywood here," the interviewer said. "How's it going?"

"Good, good," Maverick said. "You?"

"How are you feeling about your first nomination?"

"Like I might throw up," Maverick said. He pulled Everleigh a little closer—whether for her sake or his was yet to be determined. Maybe both. "But it's nice having good company with me."

"This is your red carpet debut as a couple. How's that going?"

"I hope it's going well." Maverick laughed.

"And you must be who For Her is about."

Everleigh tried the question on for size. There was no use denying it. Every article in the world since they song had released had pinned that song on her. Maverick was not subtle.

"I am her." Everleigh managed a smile.

"And how are things going for you?" they asked. "Enjoying the carpet?"

"I'm very proud of Kingston and MARS and what today means for him."

"Can I ask about graduation?" No. "The internet went insane when you posted the first photo confirming your romance."

One stolen glance in Maverick's direction put the ball in his court. Champagne flavoured courage only worked so hard.

"Was that something that needed to be confirmed with a photo?" Maverick asked. A perfect return.

Everleigh was thankful the interviewer brought the questions back to the reason they were there. Her personal life was not important compared to what the night meant for everyone else.

"I'm sure you've heard this a hundred times by now, but anything you'd like to add about what working with MARS was like?"

Maverick laughed again. "You can ask me about MARS all you want, I'll always be happy to answer. Um. Yeah, they're amazing. I'm excited for them and I hope they sweep their categories. It's what they deserve. I don't think anyone in this industry works as hard as they do. It's a privilege to be even a small sliver of their universe. I can't wait for them to shine on stage today and at every other award ceremony they attend. They're the reason people are going to want to be musicians for the rest of time."

Speak of the devil and Stevie shows up. She tapped his cheek with her hand. "Jumpscare tax on the Grammys red carpet?"

Maverick would've definitely lost a shoe with how much he jumped at Stevie's arrival. "Fuck almighty." Realizing he was on live TV, Maverick slapped a hand over his mouth. "I'm so sorry."

That one earned a laugh from Everleigh. "Well done, Kingston."

"Speaking of jumpscares," Stevie said. "Have you asked him his thoughts on Zootopia?"

"Zootopia?"

Taking it the mocking in stride, Maverick said, "I watched it recently. Great film. Don't know how it was for crot—children."

"It... is animated." The poor interviewer was probably going to quit their job once that interview was done. Hijacked.

"But it's got some dark elements."

"Pretty sure your niece wouldn't have jumped and she's one," Stevie said.

"Kid probably has nerves of steel," Maverick said.

"Could teach you a thing or two."

"Probably."

"Definitely," Everleigh said.

"While we have you here," the interviewer said, trying to take the reigns on the runaway interview. "Stevie, anything you're looking forward to tonight and onward? Any big plans for MARS?"

"Excited to play The L live for the first time with Maverick," Stevie said. "And after this, we're just getting ready to go on tour so our year will be pretty busy. Good busy, though."

"And what about Brendon Ellis? Will he be a roadie before the season starts again? Or is he falling back into the F1 regime?"

"He starts training soon before the season starts but some of our tour dates line up with a few races next year so hopefully, you'll see us around," Stevie said with a smile. "He'll be very busy getting the title he deserved."

"Well, we look forward to seeing him bring it home," the interviewer said. "I won't keep you much longer, but anything else you'd like to tell the people watching?"

"I'm Stevie's number one fan," Maverick said.

The interview was caught up in the fire sign tornado, no sense of when it would stop.

"You shouldn't give your fans false information," Everleigh said.

"Fine, I'll be Stevie's second biggest fan."

"Maybe Bash is second."

"Thought you were sharing first."

"Debatable today."

"They are dating."

"He's Stevie's third biggest fan—" Everleigh turned back to the interviewer. "TBD on the biggest."

"For the record," Stevie said, "I am Everleigh's number one fan."

"Um—false," Maverick said. "I get to have that title. Thank you."

"Everleigh and I are each other's number one fans," Stevie said, ignoring Maverick. "It's true."

Brendon jumped into the storm, kissing Stevie on the cheek. "She's lying, I'm Stevie's number one fan. Leigh and I can share MARS' number one fan, though."

"You can have that one tonight," Everleigh said. He did give her alcohol, after all. "I suppose. If you're nice about it."

This bickering was exactly what Hollywood news outlets wanted, right? Incredible. They were feeding the public.

"How generous," Brendon said.

"You're welcome."

"Okay, we'll let you go," the interviewer said. "Thank you so much!"

"Thank you!" Stevie said. "Still her biggest fan!"

"That's fake news, but thank you!"

Maverick had already started dragging Everleigh away, leaving Stevie and Brendon to follow them. Finding MARS in the sea of chaos was relatively simple, but Everleigh still kept Maverick's hand in a vicelike grip. They were going to spend the rest of the night doing so to each other and they were going to have to accept it.

"Nice of you all to make it," Seira said.

"You're on thin ice for the headlock, Kingston John Maverick," Jenny said. He had one rule. Everleigh wasn't going to defend him from tempting the fates. His golden life string was pulled taut and Jenny had the scissors.

"I did no such thing," Maverick said. "That was my doppelganger."

Jenny took a step toward him. "Come again?"

Everleigh had never felt short until Jenny was near her. Even though Everleigh was in heels, Jenny had a couple inches on her.

Maverick decided she was still a good enough shield from Jenny. The squeal was something else. "Nothing."

"My hero." Everleigh rolled her eyes.

"That's what I thought," Jenny said. "Your seats are up there. With your names on it so I hope it won't be difficult for you to find. If it is, figure it out on your own, and don't embarrass me. Marty and his family are a few rows behind if you need something."

"Aye aye captain," Stevie said.

"I'll meet you guys backstage before the performance," Jenny said. "But before this all starts, just remember that no matter what happens, we're all extremely proud of you for getting here. You too, Mav."

Maverick was still hiding, but managed a, "Thanks, bestie."

"And please," Jenny said, like she was wrangling toddlers, "remember to pee before the show starts. Yes, I'm looking at you, Maverick. If you guys pull through, we don't need anyone missing their speech. Got it?"

"Why me?" Maverick asked. With some audacity.

Jenny didn't even say anything. Simply stared at him.

"Yes, ma'am."

Jenny waved them away. "Okay, get lost. Make me proud."

It was Maverick's turn to be the vice on Everleigh's hand. She squeezed it reassuringly.