Home now.

By me saying I'm home, that means I want you home.

Where the fuck are you?

Pick up your phone.

If you fuck Angier, I will beat the shit out of him.

You better not be fucking Angier.

I am going to kill Angier.

Please text or call.

The last text actually made her the most nervous. Angry, cursing Jameson was normal. Soft, gentle Jameson was a completely different beast. It was the calm before the storm. It usually meant trouble, and not always the sexy kind.

She didn't like hurting his feelings, even if it was on accident.

“Why didn't you tell me!? He's been texting for the last two hours!” Tate snapped, following Ang onto the elevator and smacking him in the arm. He shoved her away and hit the button for their floor.

“Hey, he said we could do whatever we wanted. I wanted to spend the evening alone with my bestie. It used to be just the two of us, remember? Us against the world. Now we're lucky if we see each other every other month,” Ang pointed out. Tate swallowed her sarcastic remark. Two men, two guilt trips. Not fair. At least with Jameson, she could seduce him into submission. Ang was shit out of luck.

“I'm sorry. You're right. And I had a great time,” Tate said, stumbling into the wall as the elevator stopped at a floor. The doors slid open and Ang grabbed her hand, yanking her close as a large group of young guys got on the elevator. They looked to be in their early-twenties, and from either America or Canada.

“Hey, bro, 'sup,” one guy said, doing the head nod thing at Ang.

“Hey,” he responded, smiling down at them. Tate hiccuped and tried not to laugh. One of the guys kept staring at Ang, though. Looked away. Then looked back. Then looked away. Then turned towards him.

“This is gonna sound crazy,” he started, “but you look just like -,”

“I am,” Ang answered, cutting him off.

“No way!”

“Way.”

“Dudes! This is that guy, from the movie last night!”

Tate really started laughing. Ang just rolled his eyes, managed a wave as the younger guys all guffawed and high-fived.

“Yeah, that's me,” he said, his smiled strained.

“Can I get a picture with you!?”

“I don't think that's -,”

FLASH.

Tate was just drunk enough to roll with it, so she organized everyone into a pile in a corner, so one of the guys could take a selfie of all of them. Then they all took turns taking individual pictures with Ang, who was looking less and less pleased with the adoration. Tate egged them all on, getting a thrill out of seeing him so uncomfortable.

“Get in here!” one of the guys suddenly demanded, waving his arm at Tate.

“Me!? No, no, you don't want a pic of me, I'm nobody,” Tate laughed. Ang gasped.

“Nobody!? How could you say that, after all those awards you just won!?” he asked. She blinked at him.

“Huh?”

“Guys, you know who this is, right?” Ang asked, grabbing her arm and pulling her into him.

“She, uh, she looks kinda familiar?” one of the dudes said, but it sounded more like he was guessing.

“This chick right here just won FOUR awards at the AVNs, for her anal scenes! She's the best in the business!” Ang went on.

“What!?” Tate shrieked.

Maybe teased him too much.

“Oh, that's probably why we don't recognize her.”

“Yeah, usually the camera is pointed a little lower on this one. C'mon, get in here, one more selfie!” Ang offered, wrapping his arm tightly around Tate so she couldn't get away.

Mother fucker.

Another round of pictures was taken. The elevator had long since stopped at a floor, where the boys had originally planned on getting off. But they kept laughing and taking pictures, holding the doors open.

“You guys wanna party with us!?” one of the guys asked, gesturing down the hallway.

“Oh, no way, we've gotta practice for a shoot tomorrow,” Ang explained with a heavy sigh, wrapping his arm around her hips. She punched him in the chest.

“No we -,”

“Oh man! Like a porn shoot!?” their new friends practically shouted, beside themselves with excitement.

“What other kind? Have a good night, guys,” Ang winked at them, lowering his head towards Tate.

“Get it on, man! Can't wait to see this movie!”

“Ang,” Tate warned, “don't you do it. I will kick you in the -,”

His lips entirely covered her own, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. Tate hadn't kissed Ang in a long time, she'd forgotten how much tongue he liked. The boys in the hall hooted and hollered, shouting words of encouragement to Ang. She snorted, pushing against his shoulders. He just moved them across the elevator, pushing her up against the far wall. This earned another round of hollering, and then the elevator doors slid shut.

But Ang didn't let up. It took a real shove to get him off of her.

“What the fuck was that!? Award for anal!?” she demanded, wiggling against his hold.

“Hey, you started it, making them take all those pictures. And it wasn't too far from the truth, you love anal,” he pointed out.

“'Love' is a stretch. What are you doing? Get off of me,” Tate grumbled, yanking at his arm. When he still didn't let go, she glared up at him. He was staring down at her, a very serious look on his face. An almost sad look. She stopped moving.