You wandered through the walk-in closet, searching for an outfit for Abel's show in a few weeks. The hot air of California wasn't helping either. As his stylist, life was hell. Abel himself wasn't too bad, and you had developed a friendship that always allowed you two to tease each other, so you never had to be too serious. Especially when he was in the corner, humming to the beat of ‘Starboy.’ You groaned and turned to him for help, but his response was snarky.

"'No, of course not.' he said, his voice dripping with irony. 'This is what you're paid for'."

The smirk playing at his lips told you that he was only pulling your leg