LILY FIDGETED NERVOUSLY as we sat in the car. We had arrived early because I refused to get anywhere late, but Lily wanted to wait for a 'reasonable time that didn't make her look desperate' to walk in.

"You're going to be amazing," I reassured, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. "No one can take a better picture than you can."

Lily scrunched her nose at me. "Well, plenty of people can. Including my boss, who sent me here in the first place. And if I mess up I could lose this job, which would bring me right back to waitressing at A Taste of fucking Athen's. And that would just prove my mother right about photography not being a real job-"

"Woah," I placed my hand on her shoulder. Despite her confident appearance on the outside, Lily tended to be extremely self conscious about her work. No matter how much Jess and I (and everyone with a pair of working eyeballs) complimented her work, she could always find a small, often insignificant, thing that was wrong with it.

I gave her a look and continued, "You're a badass photographer. You are fucking-phenomenal at it. Sure, this is a huge deal, but just think of it like any other shoot."

Lily took a breath and calmed herself. "There is no one better to be than myself..." she muttered, quoting Snopp Doggs 'Affirmation Song.' The song had become a go-to in our apartment whenever someone was having a moment. She shook out her hands, as if shaking away all the nerves and smiled at me. "Alright, let's go."

We both got out of the car, Lily grabbing her camera and bag. As we walked up to the building, she dug around in her bag before handing me what looked like an invite card.

"Show this to get in. I have to set up over there," she gestured over to the red carpet nearby and I nodded. I also held back any comments about it being slightly overkill for a whole red carpet. My mind flashed to an image of Jamie Tartt, soaking in all the attention. A red carpet was the last thing that egomaniac needed.

I shook the thought of Jamie out of my head. "Alright," I smiled, reaching over and squeezing her hand in reassurance. "You're going to be fantastic, Lils."

We went our separate ways and I climbed the few steps up to the building where the event was being held. Internally, I cringed with each step. These heels were still not fully broken in, which made walking pinch more than it normally would. I was already not having the greatest few days (Richmond had lost 2-0... again), and having to walk in these shoes all night would not help my mood.

The front steps had a man standing in a suit with his arms crossed and a hundred-yard-stare. He held his hand out and I handed him my (or Lily's?) invitation. He made a small noise in approval and handed it back before I walked into the large hallway.

Small groups of people were standing about the hallway, talking softly amongst themselves. My eyes recognized a few faces, like Richmond employees and team members and a whole bunch of wealthy people. I exhaled briefly and smoother out my dress that I bought on my journalist-intern budget. I immediately felt like an eyesore.

As I walked into the dining hall, my eyes were drawn to the bar. Maybe that would aid my growing feeling of non-belonging.

I asked the bartender for a martini and leaned against the bar as she mixed it. My eyes scanned the crowd briefly once again. I felt like I was on the clock, looking for a story. The guy in the corner has his arm around a woman, most likely his wife, but he's staring at another woman's chest. The two people at table 9 are trying to discreetly grope each other (spoiler: it is not discreet). Jamie Tartt is not wearing a shirt.

My eye-line flickered back to that. At a table in the middle of room sat fucking Jamie Tartt, wearing just a suit jacket with no shirt underneath. His hair was spiked up in the way he did it for the majority of his promotional images. He sat next to Keeley Jones and my mind briefly thought about how jealous Jess would be when she found out I had been breathing the same air as Keeley Jones. However, my gaze and mind quickly fell back to Tartt.

He had his arm around the back of Keeley's chair, casual and arrogant as ever. His mouth was in a smirk, as it typically was. My eyes traced his face and the slight dimple on his left cheek that appeared as he smirked. He retorted something to someone else at the table and seems awfully pleased with himself at the comeback. I could practically hear his egotistical chuckle as he turned his head to the right slightly.

We made direct eye contact and for a moment I forgot where I was. It was crazy how him just looking at me could fill my body with so much anger that I could actually feel weak in my arms. His smirk faded slightly and his eyebrow raised as he took me in. His eyebrows furrowed in the same way I'd seen them do through the TV whenever he was about to take a penalty kick. Calculated, careful, almost intelligent looking. Yeah, he remembered me this time.

Good.

He began to open his mouth once again, but my attention left him as I heard a voice suddenly exclaim, "Drink Girl!"

My hearing and vision immediately spring back to how it was before I had zeroed in on Tartt. I turned to where the voice had came from and saw Colin Hughes walking excitedly up to me. I also noticed that sometime in the past few moments, the bartender had given me my drink.

"Hello, Colin," I said, bringing the drink to my lips. Although we were very far from friends, it was still nice to see someone I recognized at this event.

Colin stood next to me, leaning against the bar as well. He had a beer in his hand and a faint smile on his face. "What are you doing here?" The way he spoke made it sound as if we had interacted more than the couple times we actually had. Like we were friends.

"Plus one of my friend. She's technically press, but her boss pulled some strings and got an invite," I explained. I realized midway through the story that he most definitely had no interest in that. "So, now I'm standing here awkwardly as she walks around doing her job. But, it's an open bar, so..."

He laughed and my shoulders relaxed as I realized he actually found me enjoyable. That or he was just already drunk, but either option soothed my nerves. "I never got your name, Drink Girl. And the more we run into each other the more guilty I feel over that," Colin admitted, taking a sip of his beer.

I laughed into my drink glass as I took another sip. "Sabrina Lewis."

"Ahh, proper reporter name," He commented. "Like that Trent Crimm bloke. Good reporter names."

The typical flush of pride that comes with being spoken about in the same sentence as Trent floods over me for a moment before I respond. "I'm glad I have your stamp of approval. I'm going to go find my seat."

"You should bet on me, Sabrina Lewis!" Colin called as I walked away. "It's for the children!"

I giggled at him as I walked. Part of me could tell he didn't mean that in the way most of the other players would mean that sentence. He never really seemed to be interested in me like that. His suggestion felt more platonic than anything else, and every single part of me felt grateful for that fact. I didn't have any actual guy friends besides James.

I had to weave through a few tables to finally find my seat. However, the table was full. "Shit," I muttered. The last thing I wanted to do was correct some rich asshole who probably wouldn't even move if I pointed it out to them. Or maybe they would, but I was never really one for random-stranger-confrontation.

I kept my face as passive as I could looked around the room. Lily was still no where in sight, and I couldn't see any empty seats. I heard someone tap on the microphone and realized Rebecca-fucking-Welton was about to start talking and I looked like a total idiot standing in the middle of the floor. I quickly slid into the first seat I could find and slumped down as much as I could.

"Very smooth. Don't think anyone saw ya'," A recognizably southern voice beside me commented. I closed my eyes tightly and took a breath. Of course I had picked this table. I turned my head, opened my eyes, and smiled briefly at Coach Lasso.

"Hi," I mouthed, my face flushing slightly red as Ms. Welton started to talk. "Nice job, Lewis. Really nicely done," I internally reprimanded myself.

As Ms. Welton continued talking, I felt the gaze of someone practically burning through my head. Who else was at this table? I couldn't remember from when I had scanned the room. That is, until I saw a pair of extremely cute shoes a few people down from me at the table.

That was Keeley Jones. Which meant....

I looked up and Tartt was staring right at me. His gaze locked onto me like I was particularly interesting match of football. I leveled my gaze and fought off any remnants of the blush that had dusted my face. He looked at me as if I had personally done him some disservice by sitting at the same table as him. How dare I sit at the same table as King Jamie. How silly of me.

I hoped my face conveyed those thoughts exactly as I stared back at him. He broke our gaze first and I felt as though I had won some unspoken competition between us. Keeley (his actual girlfriend, not just one of the girls he likes to flirt with for fun on the side) had tapped him and given him a look. He seemed to understand this silent language and he turned his attention to the speaker.

Apparently, some time in the last few moments (or minutes? I had lost track of how long the staring had lasted), Rupert Mannion had arrived and was now speaking loudly with Ms. Welton.

My eyebrows furrowed, lost for a moment as to why he would want to appear at his ex-wife's charity events. I quickly figured it out however, when I stopped assuming he was anything more than a man. He was trying to steal the spotlight from Rebecca. Show how much 'better' of an owner and a person he was compared to her. That he was superior to her in someway.

What a bunch of see-through bullshit. I scoffed slightly and rolled my eyes as Rebecca awkwardly fumbled through the conclusion of her speech.

"What's up, Miss Pennsylvania?" Ted asked me as chatter fell once again over the crowd.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Some people stole my spot and I no clue what else to do, and Rebecca was starting to talk, and this was the only seat open." Complete word vomit. Embarrassment - two thousand, one hundred and ninety-eight, Sabrina - zero. I took another long sip of my drink and deflated slightly as I finished it.

Ted just laughed however, kindly choosing to not bring up my obvious embarrassment. "It's quite alright, we had room for more. Ain't that right, Jamie?"

My eyes widened slightly. Had Ted noticed the staring or was he just simply trying to be reassuring?

Tartt said nothing in response, his eyes only narrowing. I wanted to bite something out, something snippy and witty that would completely make up for how lame I looked before, but nothing came to mind. Keeley again gave him a look, this time accompanied by a kick to his leg.

"Jamie," She muttered, gesturing her head in my direction. I briefly felt as though I was in elementary school again, being forced to meet and than hangout with my mothers friends children.

When Jamie still said nothing, another voice that I recognized immediately spoke. "Fucks wrong with you, Tartt? Thought you loved the press." My head turned to right as Roy Kent finished his remark to his teammate. Only I could choose the one table with the highest number of people that I really did not want to embarrass myself in front of. He grunted in acknowledgment as we made eye contact. "Drink Girl."

Ted gave Roy a look for his comments before he smiled in a way that only him and toddlers not yet exposed to the dark, cold world could. "That is an excellent nickname that I plan on learning more about later," Ted commented, pushing his chair out and starting to stand. "I gotta go talk to Rebecca. Don't have too much fun without me!" He turned to leave before briefly doubling back, his eyes darting between Roy and Tartt. "Play nice."

Keeley sighed before turning her attention to me. "I'm Keeley Jones," she said, as though I wouldn't already know that. I was charmed by that slightly. I never minded some modesty. "What's your real name? Since I'm assuming your mum didn't write Drink Girl on the birth certificate."

I laughed slightly. "Sabrina Lewis. Drink Girl's my middle name." Keeley laughed at that, and Roy made some small sound that I thought maybe meant he was amused. Or hungry. Or maybe deeply sad. I don't fucking know, he's Roy Kent.

"You're funny! And American!" Keeley smiled. I chuckled under my breath and blushed slightly at her comments. "And you're press?"

I nodded, pleasantly surprised at how chill everyone was. Besides Tartt, who was still staring at me like I had just kicked a puppy in front of him.

"It was great to meet you," I said, also pushing my chair back slightly. I glanced at Roy. "And re-meet you. But, I'm going to go try and find my friend."

I stood up, slightly wobbly from having to talked to Keeley Jones and Roy Kent. Keeley smiled and waved bye to me, Roy just gave a small grunt that sounds vaguely like his last one but with slightly different infliction.

I walked away from the tables and into the hallway outside the dining room. I still had no idea where Lily was. No texts from her, so she was probably still off taking pictures. I began to type out a quick message asking where she was when someone grabbed my arm.

The grip was soft but firm. I could easily get away and out from whoever was holding me, but something about it told me the person was strong. I turned to see who it was as they dragged me away from the door.

Of course.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked, wiggling my arm away from Tartt's grip as he stopped walking. I rubbed my arm and pretended like he had hurt me in an attempt to make him feel bad.

It did not work.

"Are you followin' me or something?" He asked, his arms folding across his chest. I forced my eyes to look everywhere besides his (very nicely sculpted) chest. "Seems everywhere I look these days, there you are. Now, I'm not saying I would mind if you were... but there's some less creepy ways you could get my attention." He smirked slightly as he said the words, like he was expecting me to drop to my knees and praise him.

Instead, my mind just repeated the way he said 'creepy.' Cree-pay. Ridiculous. My eyes pretty much involuntarily rolled at the idea that I was following him. Of course that's all he could come up with. Of course he assumed that.

"Right, because I have to be madly in love with you. That's all that makes sense," I replied sarcastically. "I don't choose to run into you, Tartt. In fact, my life would be a whole lot better if I didn't run into you everywhere. Whole lot easier."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Of course you do, your ego is the size of the fucking sun."

Jamie uncrossed his arms and his eyebrows once again furrowed. "You're a sports journalist. It's not a big leap to think you'd be followin' me places. Wouldn't be the first to be looking for a cheap story."

Okay. Fair point. And if he was anyone else in the world, I would've felt bad for him. Instead, I said, "If people need to follow you around to get an interesting story out of you, I'd do some self reflection." I kept out any indication that I was even the slightest bit bothered or upset at the idea that he had said 'cheap story.' My writing wasn't cheap.

Jamie grimaced. "Just stay away from me. And Keeley. Hang around Grandpa Kent all you want... that prick. I'm sure the two of you will find some great common ground."

If that common ground was think he was a self-absorbed asshole, I was sure Roy and I would get along great. I rubbed the arm Jamie had grabbed onto again. "Don't you have an auction to be apart of?"

Tartt's eyes dated from the part of my arm I was rubbing, back ti my face. For a moment, a glimmer of what seemed like sympathy and slight guilt flashed over his face before his usual arrogance replaced it. "Nice dress," he muttered before walking away.

I watched him walk away in confusion. What a douche bag. He thinks he could treat me like that the whole conversation and just throw in a compliment at the end to fix it all? Fuck that.

"Sab!" Lily's voice called. "My phone died. I've been looking for you everywhere! The gig went awesome. I killed it. Made that red carpet my bitch! Wooh, I'm beat, though."

She reached my side and continued rambling as I was left staring at the spot Tartt had just left. "Wanna head out of here?" Lily suggested. "Auction seems kind of lame. I heard Robbie Williams isn't even coming."

I let her lead us back to the parking lot and let her take the keys to drive us home. My mind kept replaying the conversation with Tartt over and over. The longer I stewed on it, the angrier I got. And the angrier I got, the more confused I got. Which really cancelled out the anger.

Jesus, it'd been a long day.

A/N:
Okay soooo long time no see. I got completely caught up with my life and everything was just got super hectic super fast for me. I hope the extra long chapter made up for it. But, life is settling down (which is weird, since it's the holidays) and I'm back!!

I wanted to thank everyone for supporting this fic (10K reads, ahhhh!!) and not giving up on it. Please remember to vote and comment if you enjoyed this chapter!!