Wow it's been a while. Hope u can still remember what happened (or go read it all again hahaha u know u want to) 

Lemme know what u think of the current plot line and characters, if you want any drama lemme know also, I'm good at drama :) 

At just gone ten, the phone on Andy's desk rang, and after yawning into his a hand, he picked it up, said, "Yes?"

"There's a Harley Shires in reception for you."

"Really?" Andy asked. He hadn't expected this new collaboration project to move so fast, barely had been given the time to decide whether he even wanted to do it yet. But Harley, he had quickly come to discover, had so much enthusiasm for the collaboration that Andy couldn't keep up with their new, changing ideas and constant need to discuss things. 

"Yes, sir," came the voice of his receptionist, sounding almost as though he believed Andy would tell him off for Harley's appearance at the office. 

"What for?" Andy asked blandly, neatening his drawing tablet with the pen on his desk. His plans for the day had been to finish a winter line he had been working on for a month, but with Harley to give his attention to, he doubted getting much other work done. 

"Something about a new line. Hold on." There was a fuzzing noise, and then, "They're telling me it's for discussing patterns and fabrics. Apparently you should have gotten an email?"

"An email," Andy repeated, exasperated. "I get thousands of emails a day. I told them, if they wanted to get in contact, they should schedule a meeting with me through you. Did that happen?" 

"Uh, no, sir. No." 

Andy shook his head and let an uncomfortable silence linger before saying, "I see."

"Should I..."

"Yes. Fine. Let them in. But I've only got half an hour free. I'm supposed to be having lunch with my husband and I am not turning up late for that."

"Yes, sir."

Andy put the phone down and then his head on the desk. It wasn't fair on his receptionist for him to be so rude when the issue had nothing to do with him, but the mixture of Harley's unannounced appearance, the argument he'd had with Remington the evening before, and the fact that he was sure he was getting sick was making him on edge, and even more so that usual.  

At the inevitable knock on his door, he lifted his head, pushed a hand through his hair, sat up straight, and called, "Come in." 

Harley looked different in reality than on the photo that Andy had been shown. They were wearing considerably duller clothes and minimal makeup and had been the last time they met, too. Andy wondered if their 'style' was more of a publicity stunt than a style at all. "Mister Biersack," they said, an air of pride in their voice.

"Harley. This is unexpected. What can I do for you?"

Helping themselves to a seat opposite, Harley put their elbows on the desk. The unprofessional nature of the way they presented themselves gave Andy an uneasy feeling. "Have you been through the fabrics yet?"

Andy stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Harley, at the risk of sounding too much like the owner of a very, very busy company, I'm the owner of a very, very busy company. Now, this idea was proposed to me only a few weeks ago, and I don't appreciate you treating me as though you are the owner of this company."

"I'm just excited to do this."

"And that's okay, but you can't expect me to prioritise a project that I'm still in the early stages of planning. I understand that fashion designing isn't your speciality and there's nothing wrong with that, but I do think it's important you know that most of what this includes in fact isn't anything to do with choosing fabrics." Leaning back, Andy sighed. "That being said, yes, I have been through the fabrics and picked out a couple that I think fit your style. Though, I must ask, why do you not come to my office in the aesthetic that you wish to achieve in the line?" 

A long pause from Harley, who then confidently said, "You aren't wearing a dress." 

Andy couldn't help but to laugh at that. Suddenly, he felt offended and mocked and belittled, and for a moment, he recalled what he had said to Remington during their fight; 'I love you, but I don't think I really like you right now.'

He had been thinking about it all morning, cursing himself for allowing his anxieties and frustrations about his job to fabricate in harsh words aimed at his husband.

"Oh. Wow. Okay," he responded. "No. I'm not wearing a dress. I hardly ever wear dresses. I don't think you'll find a single photo of me wearing a dress. That doesn't mean my brand isn't still my brand. What I'm confused about is that when this idea was presented to me, I understood it as being a way for your fans to wear clothes that you would wear. I love that you're so keen to create a line of non binary dresses, don't get me wrong, I think that's an amazing idea and I'm one hundred percent behind it. But what I'm not behind is the fact that each time we've spoken in person, you've given me no indication of this actually being your 'style'. I don't want to work with someone who poses in typically unusual outfits just for clout." 

Harley looked around the office, gaze staying on the photo of Remington pinned to the door. "So you're not inclusive at all, then, are you?" They accused. 

"I'm not going to argue with you about my brand, Harley. Don't start. You came here about the fabrics, here are the fabrics. Take them home, choose your favourite, and then schedule a meeting with me through my receptionist. You can find the information on the website that I gave you the link to last time we met. That'll be it for today, thank you." 

Though Harley did leave, and with little fuss, Andy couldn't shake the feeling of offense and of slight illness. He needed to lie down, but instead turned on his tablet, checking the time frequently, anxious to be early to his lunch with Remington.