Y/N

_

NOTHING COULD HAVE ever prepared me for the Oscars.

I'd watched it every year since I was four, but that was just behind a television screen. Now I was sitting in a limousine, watching as we pulled up to the red carpet.

"Hey," I heard Timothée whisper, "you ready?"

He was sitting to my right, dressed in a monochrome white suit, a huge smile on his face. I had never seen him so happy.

"No," I sighed, shaking my head, "not at all."

"Don't be nervous, you look beautiful."

"Thanks," I smiled weakly, "you look good too."

I was on edge. Everytime I thought about stepping out of the car, a million embarrassing thoughts started to swarm my mind. Falling on my face, stepping on a celebrity's dress, accidentally getting a bad paparazzi picture. I just didn't want to ruin Timothée's special night.

He squeezed my hand tightly, before exhaling a breath, and popping open the car door. As he stepped out, the sounds of camera shooting and people yelling swallowed him up. There was no denying he was a star.

"Deep breaths," he smiled, holding the door for me, "you got this."

I nodded nervously, before stepping out of the car in my floor length white dress. I had worn it to match with Timmy, and honestly, it felt more expensive than my whole apartment. Thankfully it was all paid for by Rosco.

"Timothée look over here!"

"Timothée who's your girlfriend?"

"Timothée give us a smile!"

God, they all loved him. He planted a kiss on my cheek, before being rushed off to get his photos taken. I wasn't sure what to do, so I dwindled awkwardly in the background as I watched. I felt so out of place, everyone else seeming to shimmer with A-list regality.

"He's very good, you know," I heard a voice say behind me, "Timothée."

I turned my head, but almost jumped back in shock. Meryl Streep was standing right next to me, her bright red dress matching with the carpet. I couldn't speak, and she noticed, so she continued.

"My friend Greta is filming a new movie that I think he would be perfect for," she smiled, "have you heard of Little Women?"

I nodded my head, hanging onto her every word. I didn't know how I ended up next to her, but I was freaking out.

"Y-yes," I stuttered, "I have."

"Good, I'll mention it to her then."

"I'm sure he'd love that!"

"Wonderful," she swooned, turning away, "I assume you're his date?"

I smiled, the blush on my cheeks evident, "yes, I am."

"You two make a gorgeous couple."

"Thank you Mrs. Streep."

She laughed, "call me Meryl."

Patting my shoulder, she turned off towards the crowd behind me, and gave me a warm goodbye.

"I best be going," she dismissed, "enjoy the rest of your evening."

I watched speechless as she disappeared into the crowd of photographers scattering about. Timothée was still on the carpet, and didn't see any of that interaction, but I couldn't wait to tell him.

Meryl Streep wanted Timothée Chalamet in her next movie.

_

Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!

I was sitting on the first floor of the Oscar's theater, watching as two people approached the mic. Timothée's hand was resting nervously on my thigh, and I placed my palm over his to comfort him. This was it.

"Here are the nominees for Best Actor," Jane Fonda read out, turning to look at the giant screen behind her, "Timothée Chalamet, Call Me By Your Name."

As the crowd erupted into applause, a small montage of Elio Perlman began to play. I turned to look at the boy next to me, who was scrunching his nose in embarrassment. He was so humble about his talents, and I loved that about him.

As Fonda kept going down the list of nominees, Timothée rested his head on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck with his hair. I knew he did this whenever he got nervous, and I wanted to comfort him as best as I could.

"Hey," I whispered, "it's going to be okay."

He looked back at me with his eyes glazed over with disappointment, "but what if I don't win?"

"You don't have to win. The movie is proof enough that you're one of the best actors out there."

"It is?"

I nodded, "it is."

Suddenly the buzz around the auditorium died down, and Fonda slipped her hands underneath the red envelope in her hands. Taking out the thin white card, her eyes scanned the words briefly, before turning back to the microphone.

"And the Oscar goes to.."