Stars Made of Paper interlude
Stars Made Of Paper
beta: moonbrightnites
For sakesushimaki <3
Here it is, guys! I mean, here it comes! The first tiny part of the ending. The rest in an hour or two. Don't hate! :P
Interlude
In two years, you will get promoted to account executive. You'll be responsible for landing the biggest accounts, travelling all over the board, dropping by in Europe every now and then, and even once in Japan. In two years and three months you'll go to fashion week in Paris to meet the son of Henderson and Son and convince him to sign with your agency. You'll fuck your way through the roster of Kenzo Men Spring collection models and finish fashion week with Henderson's signature on the contract.
Before you two board the plane, Henderson will insist on taking you to the Louvre and you'll humor him, even pretending like this is the first time you’ve seen it.
As you stifle a yawn in front of a Vermeer painting, you'll hear someone with a distinctly un-French accent say something to you. Something that you won't catch, because aside from being a lousy French speaker, you'll be too busy falling asleep on your feet.
“Pardon?” you'll say, looking down at the man sitting on the floor behind you and you'll freeze.
And so will he.
You'll want to say something witty, but he'll squint at you and say “Excuse me, do I know you from somewhere?” And that will piss you off so much you'll just storm off.
But when you come back, after finding a smoking zone and burning through two cigarettes, the man will be in front of the Raft of the Medusa and it will be closing time, so he'll leave the museum with you and you'll learn that long-distance didn't work out for him, just like you expected. But Paris did. Also like you expected.
You'll cancel your flight back to Pittsburgh and it'll be another week before Justin gives you his new phone number. You will have the layout of Louvre memorized, because that's where you'll see him every day for a week, doing research for his thesis at Sorbon. You'll also learn more about the French romanticism than you ever cared for, because that's what Justin will stubbornly keep talking at you instead of having an actual conversation. One afternoon, you'll accompany him all the way to his dorm. You'll find it impossible to even talk because of his nosy roommate. The next evening you'll pull him into a cab and you'll go to your hotel room. Justin will be bursting at the seams holding in his resentment. He will say how much you hurt him and that you ruined his relationship and ask you why. You'll tell him that you were jealous because you'll be so desperate to have him back in your life that you'll be willing to say the truth if that's what gets you there.
Justin will say he needs time to think. It'll take a day.
By the end of the second week you'll be friends again. With benefits. The benefits will be so frequent and passionate you'll wonder if you're still even friends, or just those benefits. You'll come home, but you'll fly him to the US every weekend and you'll spend every minute together not talking. So, yeah, the 'friends' label will become obsolete.
Three months later Justin will come back to Pittsburgh and give you an ultimatum: no more making decisions for him. And no more betraying his secrets, in the name of anything. You don't accept ultimatums, so you'll tell him to shove it, and you'll keep your resolve for a week. Then you'll find him again because you always do - and because he'll be temporarily living with Daphne again - and ask him to move in with you.
It'll be rocky and you'll be a controlling dick and he'll be stubborn and infuriatingly all-knowing. But eventually you will accept him as the best thing that ever happened to you.
“That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard you say. And you've said a lot of stupid things.” Brian summarizes, shoving his empty takeout Chinese container at Chloe and getting up from the floor. “First of all, Kenzo Spring collections make my dick soft. Second of all, if I took so many days off, I could just as well stay in Paris and look into becoming an escort. Third of all, grow up. I was never jealous. Jealousy is for people who can't have the things they want. And I wouldn't go after anyone like a lovesick idiot, just to get laid. And even if, in some parallel universe, I met him again and he walked away, I'd take the hint and not waste another minute of my time.”
And that is, more or less, the truth.
And what really happens is this:
-Next Part-
beta: moonbrightnites
For sakesushimaki <3
Here it is, guys! I mean, here it comes! The first tiny part of the ending. The rest in an hour or two. Don't hate! :P
Interlude
In two years, you will get promoted to account executive. You'll be responsible for landing the biggest accounts, travelling all over the board, dropping by in Europe every now and then, and even once in Japan. In two years and three months you'll go to fashion week in Paris to meet the son of Henderson and Son and convince him to sign with your agency. You'll fuck your way through the roster of Kenzo Men Spring collection models and finish fashion week with Henderson's signature on the contract.
Before you two board the plane, Henderson will insist on taking you to the Louvre and you'll humor him, even pretending like this is the first time you’ve seen it.
As you stifle a yawn in front of a Vermeer painting, you'll hear someone with a distinctly un-French accent say something to you. Something that you won't catch, because aside from being a lousy French speaker, you'll be too busy falling asleep on your feet.
“Pardon?” you'll say, looking down at the man sitting on the floor behind you and you'll freeze.
And so will he.
You'll want to say something witty, but he'll squint at you and say “Excuse me, do I know you from somewhere?” And that will piss you off so much you'll just storm off.
But when you come back, after finding a smoking zone and burning through two cigarettes, the man will be in front of the Raft of the Medusa and it will be closing time, so he'll leave the museum with you and you'll learn that long-distance didn't work out for him, just like you expected. But Paris did. Also like you expected.
You'll cancel your flight back to Pittsburgh and it'll be another week before Justin gives you his new phone number. You will have the layout of Louvre memorized, because that's where you'll see him every day for a week, doing research for his thesis at Sorbon. You'll also learn more about the French romanticism than you ever cared for, because that's what Justin will stubbornly keep talking at you instead of having an actual conversation. One afternoon, you'll accompany him all the way to his dorm. You'll find it impossible to even talk because of his nosy roommate. The next evening you'll pull him into a cab and you'll go to your hotel room. Justin will be bursting at the seams holding in his resentment. He will say how much you hurt him and that you ruined his relationship and ask you why. You'll tell him that you were jealous because you'll be so desperate to have him back in your life that you'll be willing to say the truth if that's what gets you there.
Justin will say he needs time to think. It'll take a day.
By the end of the second week you'll be friends again. With benefits. The benefits will be so frequent and passionate you'll wonder if you're still even friends, or just those benefits. You'll come home, but you'll fly him to the US every weekend and you'll spend every minute together not talking. So, yeah, the 'friends' label will become obsolete.
Three months later Justin will come back to Pittsburgh and give you an ultimatum: no more making decisions for him. And no more betraying his secrets, in the name of anything. You don't accept ultimatums, so you'll tell him to shove it, and you'll keep your resolve for a week. Then you'll find him again because you always do - and because he'll be temporarily living with Daphne again - and ask him to move in with you.
It'll be rocky and you'll be a controlling dick and he'll be stubborn and infuriatingly all-knowing. But eventually you will accept him as the best thing that ever happened to you.
“That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard you say. And you've said a lot of stupid things.” Brian summarizes, shoving his empty takeout Chinese container at Chloe and getting up from the floor. “First of all, Kenzo Spring collections make my dick soft. Second of all, if I took so many days off, I could just as well stay in Paris and look into becoming an escort. Third of all, grow up. I was never jealous. Jealousy is for people who can't have the things they want. And I wouldn't go after anyone like a lovesick idiot, just to get laid. And even if, in some parallel universe, I met him again and he walked away, I'd take the hint and not waste another minute of my time.”
And that is, more or less, the truth.
And what really happens is this:
-Next Part-