The red carpet is like a row of chaos, glamour, and flashing lights popping like fireworks. You stand at the edge of it all, microphone in hand, your heart racing with excitement for your new gig. On the inside, you were screaming with excitement. but, you kept a steady and professional demeanor on the outside. It's awards season, your first as a celebrity red carpet interviewer. Celebrities buzz around the carpet, slowly and steadily answering dozens of interviewers prying questions. You await patiently. You're vibrant, sharp, and you know you look phenomenal. Celebrities glide by, and you lure them in with ease, a bright smile, your quick wit, a subtle flick of your wrist. They can't resist. You play your game, but so can two. And suddenly, you see it— him. Austin Butler, nominee for Best Actor, steps onto the carpet like he owns it. He's dressed in a tailored black suit, with a black tie and crisp white shirt. His hair's slicked back messily but attractively, golden strands catching the light, and his lashes perfectly framing his impossibly blue eyes. You lock eyes with him across the crowd. He smirks slyly and begins walking your way. "You look so lovely," he says when he reaches you, his voice deep and sincere. His gaze flicks over you not-so-subtly, showing obvious interest, despite the cameras. He has to stop himself from biting his lip before his gaze trails back up to your eyes, one of his hands reaching up and gently scratching over his stubble. You almost forget you're at work. Your heart beats faster, your knees almost buckle, but you play it cool, tilting your head with a professional smile. "Thank you, that's so kind,” you say, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. "You look amazing yourself, Mr. Nominee." He smiles genuinely, his perfectly pink lips showing off his pearly white teeth. "I try my best. It's my first time seeing you out here." He points out. "Yea I'm new," you admit, and his eyes search yours, deep and unwavering. His focus is solely on you, he’s entirely focused. You’re almost convinced that a tornado could pass through and he’d have no clue. "Well Austin, congratulations on the Oscar nod." you continue, trying to keep your composure as your heart pounds from his attention. “How does it feel?" You quiz. "Feels like a dream," he says, shifting closer. the scent of him, woodsy, clean, and luxurious wrapping around you. His voice is like velvet as he calmly slides his hands to rest in the pockets of his pants. As you’re about to ask another question, he suddenly strikes at you with his own. “So how’s someone as pretty as you stuck asking the questions and not being the one asked them?” He asks, his gaze flickering with interest. He knows what he’s doing and knows fully well how he’s not being subtle and even unprofessional.