Right as they arrived at the media center, Evita received a phone call.

"Hello? This is Evita," she said cheerfully. It was Anthony, Evita's boss. He was in charge of everything related to media at Williams.

"Evita, terribly sorry for the confusion," he said. "But Franco actually doesn't have to do a press conference this weekend. It totally slipped my mind."

"No worries," said Evita, her smile faltering. "We can just wait around until it's time for the one-on-one interviews."

"Perfect," said Anthony. "Again, so sorry about that. I'll talk to you later, Evita, you're doing great."

Evita's phone beeped as he hung up.

"What was that about?" asked Franco.

"Plans changed, no press conference," said Evita, keeping her words clipped. "We can find a place to wait for your interviews."

The two found an open table by a food stand and took a seat. Evita scrolled through her phone, trying to ignore Franco. She attempted to conceal her nervousness about the schedule issue.

One thing about Evita, was she was quite the perfectionist. Everything had to be to her liking and in a very particular way. She had planned her schedule meticulously, and this slight mishap was setting her off. Having to sit across from Franco, knowing he was staring at her, was making everything worse.

She hated that he was here, that she was with him. She hated that they had to work together now. She hated how he was acting like he didn't break her heart. And most of all, she hated how handsome he'd gotten over the years.

"Evita, did I do something?" asked Franco. "I just, I don't understand."

"We can keep things professional, but the best way we can do that is if you stop talking," said Evita. She couldn't even bring herself to say his name to his face.

"At least tell me. Did I do something?"

"Does it matter?" asked Evita.

"It does to me," said Franco.

"Well I don't particularly care," said Evita, leaning back in her chair.

She decided to text Carmen. It was nearly five in the morning in Florida, but perhaps her cousin would be awake.

...

Ev
SOS
SAVE ME FROM THIS ASSHOLE
i know you're sleeping but WAKE TF UP

...

Lo
You okay?

Ev
yeah
why

Lo
Carmen's phone is blowing up
Figured it was you

Ev
Why are you even up right now?

Lo
Couldn't sleep
Now what's up?

Ev

i'm stuck until his interviews

Lo
Oh dear
Is it bad?

Ev
he keeps acting like he did nothing wrong
it's weird
and there was a mistake with the press conferences
it's stressing me out

Lo
Why?

Ev
i feel like it's my fault
i had the schedule

Lo
Idk what the situation is, but I'm sure it isn't your fault
Anthony's the one who schedules you for things
If there was a mistake he should have communicated better

Ev
i know
i need to loosen up more, i'm too uptight

Lo
You get a break next weekend though!

Ev
true
thanks, lo
i miss you bud

Lo
Miss you too, Ev
I'm going to try to get some sleep now

Ev
can i call you later?
like when i'm done for the day?

Lo
Ofc

Ev
talk to you later then
ily

Lo
❤️

...

Not long thereafter, it was time for Evita to take Franco to his interviews. Her job was simple. Stand off camera and supervise him to make sure he didn't say anything stupid.

Perhaps Evita's job would be simple. Franco was easy-going with the interviewers. He was quiet and spoke carefully with the English reporters, and was charming with the Spanish ones.

Evita took notes on her phone about his mannerisms and what he spoke to the interviewers about. She never had to intervene and redirect the conversation, everything stayed on track and mature.

Evita could have been wrong about Franco. Maybe he had changed since she had last seen him. People change. She may have judged him too harshly.

Her hopes were dashed as soon as the cameras cut, signalling the final interview was complete.

"Thank you," said Franco to the reporter when she wished him luck for the weekend ahead. He stepped out of the media pen and approached Evita.

"Let's go, beautiful," he said, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and guiding her away.

Evita scowled and ducked under his arm, giving him a wide berth as she continued to walk past him.

"What the hell, Franco?" she demanded.

"Sorry, amor," he said, smirking.

"You're going to give me hell, aren't you?" asked Evita, walking backward so she could still look him in the eyes.

"Evita-"

"What?" she snapped.

"Evita, stop," said Franco, rushing towards her and grabbing her wrist.

He pulled her closer to him, his hands touching her waist. Evita opened her mouth to protest, but paused as out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a man on a scooter driving past. Had she still been standing there, she would have gotten hit. Franco had rescued her?

"Sorry," said Franco, letting go of her and stepping back.

Evita didn't know what to do. She felt like she couldn't move, after standing so close to him. His hands on her waist felt so familiar, yet also so different. His breath had tickled her cheek. He smelled like expensive cologne. Nice cologne.

"What? No 'thank you?'" asked Franco, smiling down at her.

"Not a chance," said Evita. "Now come on, you have videos to film with Alex."

...

an: omg hopefully this wasn't too cringe or cliche, but eddie said she liked it, and what she says goes. i'm also hoping this isn't too much, too fast, but it will be fine. anyway, thanks for all of your support! -willow <3