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FILL - ENTOURAGE AU 1b/?

[anonymous]

When Mark finally does meet up with them it’s nearing eleven and he’s drained from a day dealing with the morons that work for him and actually having to put effort into his clients who are less talented and far more annoying than Eduardo. The club that they’re at is some bizarre combination of a ladies' and gentleman’s club and Mark finds Eduardo, Dustin and Chris in the far left corner, sitting in front of a stage where a bored looking woman is twirling around a pole in just her thong. Dustin is staring at her with his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth and as Mark draws closer he sees Chris beckoning a man in tiny shorts over with a stack of cash. He’s gesturing to Eduardo who’s just looking on bemusedly, legs spread in his chair, hands on his knees, looking relaxed and happy.

Eduardo spots him then and jumps up out of his seat, bypassing the pouting male stripper that Chris is already claiming, laughing and shaking his head. “Mark!” he says, raising his hand and walking to meet him in three long strides. He has a hat on, jeans and a button down with the top three buttons open. He’s low key enough to not get recognized, but after Spiderman all of this will be over. Eduardo’s face will be everywhere and the star Mark discovered three years ago when he first got fired and had nothing and was just starting his own agency will no longer be Mark’s little secret. Soon the whole world will know how amazing Eduardo is, and Mark is so fucking proud of him, but also a little sad. The overwhelming urge to show off this beautiful thing he discovered is slightly overshadowed by Mark’s desperate desire to hide him away forever and keep Eduardo all to himself.

“Hey,” Mark says, trying to smile. “Nice place. Classy as always, Dustin,” Mark says, nodding to him where is still drooling on the stripper’s stilettos. Eduardo laughs then, loud and bright, looking at Mark with an impossibly fond expression.

“We should get some champagne,” he says decisively, and his hand curls around Mark’s wrist as he tugs him to the bar. Mark is acutely aware of the fact that Eduardo turned down a free lap dance to talk to him, and has to remind himself no more than a million times, just like he does every day, that Eduardo is a client, and he did not work this hard to be so unprofessional.

“To Spiderman,” Mark says, once they’re back to the table and everyone’s glasses are full. The other three boys are grinning, looking happy and young and disbelieving. Eduardo is too good for this industry, Mark thinks, draining his glass. This industry is going to destroy him. Because the thing about Eduardo is that he doesn’t much care about the success of his career- he is passionate about acting and doing what he loves, but Eduardo’s first few Indies were absolute flops, and Mark had been devastated, but through it all, Eduardo was proud of everything he had made, resolutely ignoring the critics and barreling through it all with that blinding smile.

“We finally did it,” Dustin says, bouncing in his seat like an overeager puppy. “James fucking Cameron,” he says, reaching for the bottle and taking a swig directly from the mouth, “This is gonna be huge, Wardo.”

“I know,” Eduardo says, “Give me that. I’m gonna need it.” He holds a hand out for the bottle, but, smirking, Dustin keeps drinking from it until Mark snatches it away, laughing as Dustin splutters indignantly.

“Spiderman’s paying for this bottle,” he says, handing it off to Eduardo, “And subsequently, your lifestyle. Anything Wardo wants, Wardo gets.”

Eduardo’s smiling at him, and Mark is only blushing a little, and he is so twelve but it is so perfect, and of course that’s when,

“Eduardo Saverin! Oh my god, if it isn’t Mr. Hollywood!”