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Chapter Text

Flirting with world famous actress Allison Reynolds feels like the most dangerous thing Renee has done since her time in a literal gang.

In all honesty, on the first day of filming, Renee doesn’t even expect Allison to look at her twice. As a makeup artist, she’s grown used to going mostly unnoticed on set, and Allison Reynolds has the reputation of being, well, a bit of a bitch. Not a nightmare to work with, from what Renee has heard. Just cold. Aloof. Distant. Bit of a snob. Not really one for friendly conversation.

This isn’t uncommon among Hollywood stars, but Allison looks the part, too: perfect blond hair, perfectly done nails, perfectly cold and piercing blue eyes and constantly lifted chin, like she is constantly sizing everyone up and not finding them to be up to her standards. Her brand of beauty is very standard, the all-American type that got her so easily on magazine covers, but she wears it sharply, like armor, like a challenge. She looks down at the world from her high heels, and there is no denying this is a goddess walking among mortals,

When Allison walks into the set, Renee’s knees go a little weak. She has seen Allison’s movies, the entire world has, but it’s so different from meeting her in person. Definitely different from knowing she will get to talk to Allison, and do her makeup, and touch her perfect golden hair.

On the chair besides Renee, Allison’s co-star sighs.

“I knew she was going to be late.”

Renee smiles at him. Former-Exy-player-turned-movie-star Kevin Day is always grumpy in the morning; she’s worked with him enough times to know that. She was also close to his friend Jean Moureau, once upon a time, which gave her the knowledge that Kevin is a hundred times worse when he’s hungover, and that this is definitely one of those times, which isn’t rare, these days.

“That might just be because you were early, Kevin.” He always has to come in before everyone else so Renee can work on covering the tattoo on his left cheek. Renee never quite understood why he never got it removed – he certainly has the money for it - but it isn’t her place to ask.

“You’ll see. She’s always late.”

Before Renee can say anything, Allison approaches them. She gives Kevin a disinterested wave.

“Day.”

“Reynolds.”

Amused, Renee wonders how they’ll manage to have chemistry as a romantic couple, if they dislike each other so much. The amusement quickly turns into nervousness when Allison turns those piercing blue eyes to her, but Renee squares her shoulders and offers up a hand. She doesn’t care if Allison is a bitch or not. She’s always been polite to everyone she works with, and that isn’t going to change now.

Besides, it’s not like Renee is some kind of saint herself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Reynolds.” It feels weird to call someone her age miss, but she’s learned the hard way to be careful around movie stars’ egos. “I’m Renee Walker, and I’ll be doing your makeup today.”

The corner of Allison’s eyes crinkle up a little, but it’s hard to tell if it’s disdain or amusement.

“You can call me Allison.” Her eyes dart to Kevin, and she is definitely amused. “Or Reynolds, I suppose.”

When she shakes Renee’s hand, Renee has to fight down tremors on her fingers.

“Allison is such a beautiful name. It suits you well.”

She says it in her best just-girls-complimenting-girls tone, but her smile might be a bit more charged than necessary, because apparently she just can’t help herself around pretty, scary girls that look like could ruin her life. Allison doesn’t seem impressed – it’s definitely not the first time she’s been complimented on her beauty –, but she returns the smile.

“We should get started, then. Day, if you would please get the fuck out of my chair?”

There is always a level with intimacy that came with doing someone’s makeup. Usually, it means Renee is good at getting actors to loosen up and talk to her a little, be it to vent about their lives or to gossip about other actors. It is one of their last few moments before having to go fully into character, and Renee has the feeling they appreciate the relaxation.

Allison takes a little longer than most to crack. She is silent for most of the first days, watching as Renee adds this color and that to her beautiful features, only answering to direct questions. Renee knows there are some controversial issues surrounding Allison’s life – her troubled relationship with her high society parents, her extensive list of ex-boyfriends, her on-and-off dating with famous punk singer Seth Gordon –, so she steers clear of that, focusing instead on the movie, how excited she is about the role, how did she get cast, if she knows anyone on the cast besides Kevin.

To that, Allison grins. It’s the second week of filming, and she’s already starting to warm up to Renee by now.

“I don’t. But I have to say, I wouldn’t mind working with you again.”

Renee’s hands freeze for a second before she recovers and goes back to work. It’s an action movie, and Allison does a lot of her own stunts, so she has to be careful to make sure none of the makeup melts with sweat. People aren’t supposed to look hotter with fake blood on their lips, but, somehow, Allison does.

“Oh?”, is all Renee manages to say. Allison nods, just slightly, not enough to jostle the brush pressed against her cheek.

“Sure. It’s been a while since anyone asked me about my day like this.”

Renee can’t say it’s the first time she’s heard something like that – not even famous, rich people are immune to loneliness, it seems –, but it surprises her nonetheless. As bad as Allison’s reputation is, she is still adored by the entire country.

“Oh”, she replies, again. And then, to try not to look like such an idiot: “Well, I’m glad to be of service. You can talk to me whenever you want.”

And it isn’t a pick up line, it isn’t, but Renee winks all the same, like the dumbass she truly is. Allison laughs, bright and sharp, exactly the type of sound one would expect from her.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

She starts talking more in the days after that, and Renee finds out Allison is a bit of a bitch – and she doesn’t mind it at all. She’s not rude, at least not to Renee (to Kevin, sometimes, but even Renee has to admit he deserves it). She makes snarky comments about people on set and other celebrities, every so often, that make Renee gasp and say “that’s so mean!” while trying to suppress her laughter. Despite the Regina George front , Allison’s comments are just good old fashioned gossip, which is common enough in the industry that Renee can let it slide with a clean conscience. Honestly, Renee has done much worse things than talking trash about coworkers occasionally.

Renee doesn’t mean for the flirting to become a thing. She has no idea what foot Allison is on with Seth at this point – even when she mentions him in conversation, is hard to tell –, and, as far as she knows, Allison Reynolds is America’s greatest token of what a heterosexual cisgender woman should be. If Allison does flirt back – and Renee feels like she does – , it’s either for the hell of it, or because she intends on keeping this private, just between the two of them.

(Which Renee isn’t against, really; the idea of sharing a secret with Allison Reynolds is sort of thrilling.)

Besides, she’s been in this industry long enough to know better than to chase movie stars. First of all, there’s a reason they mostly date each other: movie stars are, or believe that they are, on a different level, and, in Renee’s experience, they rarely look down from their ivory towers for long enough to acknowledge commoners. Second, the exposure that comes with it might just not be worth it, for either part involved. Renee has heard several stories of this type of romance going south because one couldn’t deal with the sudden fame and the other couldn’t deal with the social pressure.

On the other hand, though: Allison keeps flirting with her, too, and Renee is strong, but there is only so long she can resist to beautiful women with fake blood on their faces.

So, they talk. They flirt a little. Renee makes a habit of paying close attention to news about Allison, and Allison makes a habit of arriving early to chat while Renee handles Kevin’s tattoo, which isn’t a problem, because, out of all the actors Renee has ever worked with, Kevin is the one that talks to her the least, and only ever about the latest Exy game. He seems mildly annoyed that Allison has proven him wrong by not being late every day, but mostly sits back and listens, chiming in every now and then to correct something Allison says about a colleague.

One day, Kevin brings up a magazine Allison was on a few months ago, and her jaw tightens minutely in anger, just for a second. Renee doesn’t miss it, but only because she’s been staring at Allison for the past two minutes instead of focusing on Kevin. Kevin has his eyes closed, so either he doesn’t know the reaction he caused, or he doesn’t care, because he continues talking like nothing has happened.

He only brought the issue up to say that is the same magazine an Exy star got interviewed for this week, so neither Allison nor Renee have much to say about it, but, when Kevin’s makeup is done and it’s Allison’s turn, Renee says, as gently as she can:

“Sounds like a very eclectic magazine.”

Allison raises her eyes to stare at Renee, and Renee can tell, immediately, this isn’t going to be an easy, flirty conversation like the ones they’ve been having in the past weeks.

“It’s a trashy gossip magazine”, Allison corrects, voice stern and sharp. “They love to talk shit about people.”

Renee doesn’t say anything, because anything seems like it would make Allison angrier. They stay quiet for a long moment, which has become unusual enough for them that Allison finally snaps:

“Okay, fine. Wanna know why I was on it?”

“I don’t care”, Renee replies quietly, and it’s true. “I don’t care for gossip.”

Allison laughs, and this laugh is colder, more bitter, like she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing.

“A person in the movie industry that doesn’t care for gossip? That’s news.”

“I don’t care for gossip about you ”, Renee adds, hoping it doesn’t sound like too much. “I’ve heard what there is to hear about you. Your… Well, your reputation precedes you, it’s true. But I don’t mind.”

She pulls the brush away, pausing to look at Allison’s face. She has her eyebrows knit together, mouth open as if about to say something, but not making any sound. Renee has to smile at the expression.

“Is that really that hard to believe?”

“Yes” This time, Allison doesn’t hesitate. “It is very hard to believe.”

They go back to being quiet for a few minutes. Renee can’t help but thinking it’s a little sad, that so many people think they know Allison because they’ve heard gossip about her and saw her on a screen a couple times.

Finally, Allison says, calmly:

“It was some shit about Seth. The magazine, I mean. We got into this huge argument at a restaurant, you know, that fancy one a few blocks from here? There were pictures and videos and all. It was nasty” She pauses, one of the corners of her mouth quirking up slightly. “There may have been some smashed plates. And some wine being thrown around.”

This was bad news, and a sure sign of instability, but Renee doesn’t care; it’s not like she hasn’t done much worse . The image of perfectly pristine Allison Reynolds smashing things made her smile.

“Some metaphorically flipped tables?”

“Well, only because I wasn’t strong enough to flip them, and Seth would have been arrested if he had flipped a table on me.” Allison shrugs. The tension is easing out of her shoulders a little, and Renee allows herself to relish in the victory. “Of course, I was the bad guy. No matter that he was back to doing drugs and had cheated on me.” Another pause. “I’m not trying to make him out to be a monster either, you know, there’s a reason I’ve been with him for so long. I’m just saying. He gets to fuck shit up and be cool for it. I’m the one that gets labeled a bitch and end up on the tabloids.”

The exhaustion in her voice made Renee’s heart ache. She put a hand on Allison’s shoulder, because hugging her would mess up the hair and makeup and probably be inappropriate.

“I don’t think you’re a bitch”, she said. Allison winked at her.

“I am, though. A little bit. A mean bitch with a reputation.”

Renee couldn’t argue, so she rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Okay, fine. I know you’re a bitch, and I am well aware of your reputation. But I don’t mind.”

Allison raised one perfect eyebrow.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah” Suddenly, Renee was blushing. This is going too far, she told herself. She didn’t stop it. “Actually, I sort of like it.”

It was satisfying to see the surprised look that crossed Allison’s face, but Renee didn’t give herself any time to appreciate it. She went back to doing her job before she could so something truly stupid, like declaring her undying love for Allison Reynolds or offering to be a part of Allison’s next scandal.

Chapter Text

It all boils over when they decide to go out for drinks after shooting one day.

They’re halfway done filming, most of the important scenes are done, and Allison is so, so done with having to pretend to be into Kevin Day. It’s not her first rodeo, and she’s surely made out with worse guys on screen, but he still finds ways to get on her nerves, him and his stupid emo roommate that shows up at the end of every day to pick Kevin up in his stupid Maserati. Allison just can’t stand them.

Lately, she can’t stand Seth, either. She hasn’t broken up with him this week, but that’s only because she just knows the next break-up will be it for them, and neither of them is prepared to deal with the emotions that come with that – or the press, for that matter. Bad press for Allison, probably. It’s always bad press for her, when it comes to Seth. Maybe her agent was right to be against their relationship.

Drinks with the crew are a welcome distraction. There are some cast and crew members that Allison tolerates, likes, even. The guy that plays Kevin’s best friend in the movie, Matt Boyd, for instance – he’s friends with Seth, and he hates Kevin almost as much as Allison, which makes him pretty cool. Kevin himself is coming too, because where there is alcohol, there is a Kevin Day, and his dumb roommate makes an appearance, too, much to Allison’s disappointment, given that the guy rarely ever hangs around the cast and crew and she was really hoping he’d stick to his rules.

Plus, Renee is coming. Which, yeah.

It’s horrible. Horrible, horrible, horrible. Pure torture. The way the fancy rose tinted lights at the bar make Renee’s face and hair glow, like something out of a painting, make Allison want to gauge her eyes out. Her smile, always so sweet and sympathetic, always showing interest in whatever boring monologue the person talking to her is lost on, is driving Allison insane. Every time Renee catches Allison’s eyes and nods at her, Allison’s urge to get up and walk away intensifies.

Instead, she knocks back another drink and reminds herself she hasn’t broken up with Seth this week.

She has no idea where he is tonight – probably out with “the guys”, probably in bed with someone else, probably doing drugs despite his promise to her. Maybe he’s home alone, too depressed to get out of bed; that happens, too, sometimes. On the good weeks, he’d call Allison on sad nights and she’d go over to his place with takeout from his favorite dinner, and they would watch dumb reality TV and make out lazily on the couch like a normal couple. They haven’t had a good week in a while, though.

Allison tries to focus on the conversation going around the table, pointedly ignoring it every time Renee makes a joke or chimes in with one of her smart, brilliant, perfect observations. It doesn’t make her life any easier, specially considering that Renee has taken a seat right besides her, and the way their hands keep brushing every time they reach for appetizers or shuffle in their chairs.

And, while every touch makes Allison feel like she’s stuck her fingers into an electric outlet, Renee just smiles sweetly at her every time it happens, like this is totally fine. Like Allison isn’t looking at her pretty lips and wondering how would it feel like to kiss them. Like she isn’t the nicest, most gorgeous human being that Allison has ever met in her entire life.

It’s infuriating.

Allison orders an intricate cocktail that takes longer to make than a shot, but also makes it easier to drink it faster than it would be smart to. That gets her a weird look from Matt, who’s sitting on her other side, but ignores it in favor of swallowing the sweet, intoxicating liquid in record time.

The next time Renee smiles at her, Allison can’t tell if her head is spinning from the perfection of it or from the amount of alcohol in her blood.

It’s an improvement.

Worst part is, Renee seems genuinely interested in getting Allison to participate in the conversation. She should have expected that, all things considered – Renee is the first person to talk to Allison like a human being in a really long time, and, after all those mornings chatting at the make-up station, they are… Friends? Allison supposes you could call it that. It’s been nice to have someone to vent to that doesn’t seem likely to sell her every word for a tabloid, at least. If she’s being honest, talking to Renee is probably the best part of her day on set.

Allison loves her job, she really does – one doesn’t make it in this industry without a lot of dedication, after all. Sometimes, though, she resents the fame, the headlines, the way she’s under constant scrutiny and how her relationships are constantly being picked apart by people that don’t know the first thing about them. The whole thing with Seth started with two lost kids with big dreams trying to make it in the big city, and it’s going to end with a media circus, broken hearts and a collection of magazine articles that Allison carefully cuts out and keeps in a shoe box under her bed. Even after years in the industry, she’s not sure she will ever be able to get over the publicity of her heartbreak.

The last thing she needs is to add “Allison Reynolds seen kissing mysterious girl at bar despite her ongoing relationship with punk singer Seth Gordon” to the list of headlines that destroyed her reputation. Which is why she chugs her next drink and does her best to ignore the way Renee’s dress hugs her body.

Drinking was supposed to help, but it just makes Allison’s self control – which is already frail on the best of days – waver even more. Thinking of Seth was supposed to help, but it only makes her feel the urge to take petty revenge on him, and then feel bad about it, not necessarily because of Seth, but because Renee deserves better than being someone’s petty revenge.

The only that seems to work, even if just a little, is getting away from Renee. If they were at a club, it would have been easy, but, as it is, there are only so many times Allison can make excuses to leave the table. Both Matt and Renee give her a weird look when she excuses herself to go have a smoke, but Allison ignores them and dashes out of the bar as fast as her catastrophically high heels allow her.

She was really hoping to have some quiet and peace in the smoking area, but, of course, no such luck. The tall figure of Kevin Day is easily recognizable, even when he’s hunched over enough to – for a second, Allison thinks he’s kissing the short, blond guy next to him, but then she realizes they’re just shotgunning cigarette smoke. Which is even more unexpected, considering how much of a health freak Kevin is known to be and how sure Allison is that he is sleeping with his roommate.

It’s also a weirdly intimate scene, and Allison is about to turn around and leave – maybe actually go home; she’s stayed long enough to be polite, at this point – when Kevin jolts and steps away from the guy, looking embarrassed and as flustered as Allison has ever seen him. The guy – it’s the stupid roommate, because of course it is – raises an eyebrow at him, then at Allison when he notices her approach.

“Reynolds”, he says, sounding bored.

“Minyard”, Allison mimics his tone perfectly. She’s made fun of Andrew Minyard behind his back enough times to be a pro at impersonating him.

“What do you want?”, Kevin asks, blunt as usual, and Allison rolls her eyes, too drunk to try to be civil.

“Last I checked, Day, you didn’t own all smoking areas in Hollywood.”

Kevin’s expression is wary, and it should be. Allison has never given him a reason to trust her, anyway.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

Allison hasn’t smoked since the shooting of her first movie, when the stress of moving to LA and the impostor’s syndrome made her chainsmoke holes in her lungs and almost fall into heavier drugs with Seth. But Day doesn’t need to know that.

She’s so and stressed that she could make an exception, but she doesn’t have cigarettes on her and would rather die than bum one off of Andrew Minyard. So, Allison shrugs, less elegantly than she would have liked due to the alcohol in her bloodstream.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Kev.”

Andrew shoots her one of his scrutinizing looks, like he’s trying to solve her like a math problem, and Allison stares back defiantly until he shrugs, unbothered.

“You know”, he says. “I think Renee’s too good for you.”

He shoves the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket and goes back inside before Allison’s dizzy brain can process the words, and, by the time the door closes behind him, she’s already spiraling too fast to stop. Since Andrew left, she can only turn to Kevin, trying to make herself taller than him on her heels and shaky legs.

“Why the fuck would he say that? The fuck did you tell him?”

Kevin seems only mildly displeased.

“Doesn’t take a genius to see the way you look at her, Reynolds. Your pining is getting ridiculous” He gestures towards the door that Andrew just walked through. “Besides, I didn’t tell him anything. Andrew and Renee are sort of friends.”

This doesn’t make any sense. Allison lets out a cynical laugh, leaning against the way behind her.

“How so? I doubt they hang around the same circles.” Because Renee is a sweetheart and an absolute angel, and Andrew is a psychopathic midget with anger management issues and a bunch of knives he likes to point at people. But she doesn’t say that; Kevin already knows. He smirks, an expression that, on him, is more annoying than charming.

“You’d be surprised.” His eyes are fixed on the sky above, avoiding Allison, but that might not be deliberate; that’s just how Kevin is. “You know, Renee dated my friend Jean for a while, a few years back.”

Allison riffles through her mental list of celebrities, but the results come up empty. She can’t remember a Jean, much less one associated with Kevin Day in any way, except – oh.

“Jean Moureau, Exy player?”

Kevin’s lips are pursed in a tight line, as they always get whenever he talks about his previous career in Exy to anyone but a bubbly reporter. The smoking area isn’t super well lit, but Allison can still see the ugly scars on the back of his left hand where he has his arms crossed: a mark of the accident that ruined his future as an athlete and sent him into acting.

“That’s the one.”

“And that’s how she knows your crazy, criminal” Allison pauses, long enough to let Kevin know that, while most people buy his pathetic excuse of heterosexuality, she doesn’t; she’s been playing the same game long enough to spot a fake straight celebrity on sight. Takes one to know one, she figures. “roommate.”

If Kevin notices her provocation, he doesn’t let on. He’s probably just as drunk as Allison is, she realizes suddenly. Kevin is always the drunkest at nights out, because he clearly has a problem.

“Andrew and Renee have more in common than you’d think”, he says. Allison quickly compares her mental image of sweet, friendly, pastel colored Renee to Andrew’s all-black clothes and murderous look.

“Doubt it.”

To her surprise, Kevin snorts bemusedly.

“Yeah, I did, too. But it’s true. Renee’s not as innocent as she looks” His eyes flicker to Allison for a second, and there’s something that almost looks like sympathy. “She had a reputation just as bad as yours in her hometown, it seems. Went to juvie and everything.”

It only takes a split second for Allison to decide she is way too drunk to handle this, and that she doesn’t care if Renee was in prison or whatever, and that she most definitely doesn’t want to hear this story from the mouth of Kevin fucking Day. As far as she’s concerned, this could be just some dumb rumor he’s heard; Allison is familiar enough with Hollywood gossip to know not to trust it. Also, the fact Kevin is comparing committing actual crime to having a few media scandals rub her the wrong way. She pushes up against the way and feels proud of how she only wobbles a little when standing up without its support.

“You know what, screw you”, she says. “You’re fucking Mr. Psycho Munchkin over there. You don’t get to tell me how to live my life.”

Kevin goes pale, then a little nausea green, then angry red.

“I’m not-”

“Save it, Day. I don’t care where you stick your dick, as long as it’s far away from me.”

With this brilliant comeback – it sounds brilliant in her mind, anyway –, she clumsily pushes the door to the bar open and stumbles inside, determined to grab her stuff, close her tab and get the hell out of here before she can do anything even more stupid than trying to have a civilized interaction with Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard of all people.

Renee tries to talk her into staying, but Allison tells her no in the kindest way she can manage after so much liquor – which is really not that kind – and calls a cab. She’s halfway home when the realization finally hits her, almost more dizzying than the alcohol. If Kevin really didn’t talk to Andrew about her, and there is no real reason for him to have done so, and Andrew and Renee are friends, and Andrew said something about her and Renee – that can only mean that Renee has been talking about her.

If Allison’s being honest – and she’s too drunk not to be –, knowing this makes this horrible night seem totally worth it.

***

The huge Starbucks drink Allison brings to Renee when she comes in for work on Monday is most definitely an apology for her crazy behavior at the bar on Friday, but she does her best to pretend it’s just a nice, friendly gesture with no strings attached to it. The grateful way Renee smiles when Allison hands her the cup makes the awkwardness of the gesture bearable. Allison’s not quite used to doing other people favors; The Reynolds are a family of takers, not givers, so no one has ever taught her how to act in this situation.

“I didn’t know what you liked”, she says, and hates how unsure of herself she sounds. “So I took a wild guess.”

Truthfully, it took all of her willpower not to order five different drinks and present the selection for Renee to chose her favorite . But Renee doesn’t need to know that. Allison watches as she takes a sip and sighs.

“This is perfect” There’s no telling if that’s a lie; Allison is pretty sure that the cup could be filled with literal piss and spit, and Renee would still thank her and compliment the taste. Allison tries to compare her to Andrew Minyard, to imagine her as a teenage criminal, and fails on both missions. “Thank you. That’s very generous of you.”

Like most people, she seems surprised by Allison’s generosity, but, coming from her, it doesn’t get on Allison’s nerve like it usually does. It doesn’t sound like Renee is shocked because the idea that a stuck up bitch such as Allison Reynolds would get off her pedestal long enough to buy her coffee is unthinkable. It sounds like she’s surprised just because Allison has never done this before.

“You’re welcome”, Allison says.

Kevin is late today by some miracle – Allison can’t wait to rub it in his stupid smug face –, so, despite the buzzing of the set, there’s no one on the makeup chair. After some hesitation, she sits down on it. Renee doesn’t start working on her face right away; instead, she leans over the back of the chair, staring at Allison’s reflection in the mirror, her face very close to Allison’s. It’s a weird shift from their usual position, but, when she speaks, her tone is the same as every morning, with the same question she asks every Monday:

“How was your weekend?”

Allison swallows, hard, and hopes her guilt doesn’t show on the mirror. Maybe Renee didn’t even noticed she was ignoring her on Friday – that’s what Allison’s been hoping for, anyway. She spent the whole weekend mulling over her conversation with Kevin, dreaming of Renee’s blue eyes and avoiding Seth – so, a normal weekend, for her.

“It was pretty chill” God, that sounds lame. “I haven’t been on the tabloids since last Wednesday, so that’s something.”

Renee laughs, bright and warm.

“I do miss seeing your face on magazine covers.”

“Well, you can look at my face all you want right there.”

In the mirror, Allison watches Renee’s cheeks turn pink, and smirks.

“That’s true”, Renee agrees. “And, may I add, the magazines really don’t do you justice.”

Allison turns her face a little so she can look at the real Renee. They’re very close like this, and it’s hard to not just kiss her right there and then, but she manages.

“Maybe I just don’t have the right makeup artist in my photo-shoots.”

Renee smiles again, but pulls back and away to find her brushes, reminded by the comment that she is supposed to be working.

“Right”, she murmurs. After a moment of hesitation, she adds: “Is everything okay? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just… You seemed a little upset when you left on Friday.”

So they’re doing this. Allison sighs. So much for Renee not noticing her weirdness.

“Yeah, no big deal. I was just” She almost says tired, and, on the last minute, decides for the truth, because Renee is nice, and, besides, if she really was on juvie, she has no grounds to judge. “drunk.”

“Oh” It’s quiet, considering. She takes a moment to say anything else, busy moving around picking up makeup palettes and creams. “Did I… Are we okay?”

Allison nearly falls off her chair.

“We?” So there’s a we now? Are they a we ? Does Renee mean their friendship? Their work relationship? Where the hell is this coming from, anyway? That’s the problem with getting drunk, Allison thinks: eventually, her alcohol induced crazy ass behavior catches up to her and brings along the consequences of her actions, and her sober self has no idea how to cope with any of it . “Yeah, we’re good. Great. Why wouldn’t we?”

When Renee replies, she’s patting Allison’s cheekbone gently but firmly with a brush, and even though her fingers are steady, her voice wavers a little:

“I don’t know. I kinda felt like you were avoiding me. I thought maybe I’d said something wrong.”

Does Renee think Allison was mad at her? The inaccuracy of the conclusion makes Allison laugh louder than would be appropriate for this time of the morning. God, she really has no idea.

It occurs to her, then, that this might be at least a little due to her reputation of Allison Reynolds, supreme bitch, always mad, always yelling at someone for bruising her ego, heartless and coldblooded, and so forth. The thought of Renee having this vision of her stings more than Allison would like to admit, so she quickly brushes it aside.

“God, no. You have never said anything wrong to me” She pauses, watching as Renee’s shoulders loosen a little. She looks so concerned Allison ends up saying something she absolutely shouldn’t: “In fact, talking to you is probably the best part of my whole day.”

Renee freezes – just for a second, but enough for Allison to feel a little victorious and more than a little hopeful –, then goes back to work.

“That’s very sweet”, she says, which, again, sounds like a very neutral and generic Renee response, until she adds: “Talking to you is probably one of my favorite parts of shooting, too. And I mean it.”

Right there, right then, Allison doesn’t care if Renee has a criminal record, or if Seth’s still waiting for her to return his billion missed calls, or if it’s too early to be making a fool of herself. Before her brain can think the words through, her mouth is saying:

“You know, if you had my number, I couldn’t ignore you even if I tried” She ignores people on her phone all the time, but none of them are Renee. “Would that make up for Friday?”

“I-” Renee opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again. It’s almost annoying how cute she looks when she’s surprised; Allison’s already wondering what other drink she can bring her tomorrow, and what else she can do when the coffee stops being a novelty, just so she can keep seeing this face . “You don’t have to-”

“I want to” It may be less smooth than usual, but Allison does feel the need to compensate the night at the bar. Besides, this just might be the week she breaks up with Seth for good, so why not? “If you want, I mean. I see no reason we should only talk on set.”

Apparently, Renee doesn’t either, because she lets Allison type her number into her phone, and doesn’t even say anything about the heart emoji Allison puts next to the name.

Chapter Text

It’s not that Allison expects breaking up with Seth to go smoothly. They’ve been together for long enough and gotten into enough public screaming arguments for her to know that nothing ever goes smoothly between the two of them, even when they’re both trying their best – and, as hard as it is to believe, the do try, sometimes. There’s a reason they stuck together for so long. Still, she knows the breakup will be gruesome, painful, and horrible, and that the media will drag her name through the mud. She’s made her peace with that.

Allison, true to her profession, stages the scene carefully, hoping to minimize the damage as much as possible. She chooses a familiar restaurant for scenery, a quaint little place they used to go to before they became so horribly famous, small and as secluded as it gets in this hellish town. Having personal conversations publicly never works out well, but it’s neutral ground, which makes it better than her apartment or Seth’s. Besides, having little privacy might actually help, depending on how fast things turn south.

Despite some particularly nasty tabloids’ speculations, Allison is not afraid of Seth; she’s seen him throw the first punch at many people, and has patched him up after countless fights in the years they’ve known each other, but he’s never given her any reason to think he’d might raise a finger to harm her. Their relationship isn’t healthy for many reasons, but this isn’t one of them.

No, what Allison is really afraid of is that, if they are alone together, she might not be able to walk away when she sees Seth’s expression. They’re not good for each other, she knows that. When she lays awake in bed at night, it’s Renee’s face that burns on the back of her eyelids, not Seth’s. Dumping him is the right thing to do for a myriad of reasons, and Allison has been wanting to do it for quite a while now, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be hard. They first met when Allison was just a lost 18 year-old trying to make it in the movie industry and Seth had just moved away from his shitty hometown, and they have been clinging to each other since because, in the years after that, that on-and-off-and-on-again relationship was all they had.

That’s not true anymore. Seth has Matt and his band mates, Allison has a couple friends and Renee, and they each have brilliant careers ahead of them. This breakup won’t ruin them. They don’t need each other as much, now.

Allison hopes they can still be friends.

Which is starting to seem more unlikely by the minute, judging by how close they are to throwing drinks at each other again.

Doing this publicly is a double-edged sword, for sure. On one hand, if it went well, maybe the reporters would actually believe that it was amicable, and ease off of Allison a bit. On the other hand – well. It isn’t going well at all, and Allison is going to get a lot of heat for this.

It started out fine: Seth, I think we should break up for real, this isn’t good for us, we’re better off as friends. Allison isn’t sure where it all went wrong, but she’s pretty sure it was somewhere around the moment Seth asked her why she was doing this, which led to some passive aggressive accusations on her part, and then some defensive comments on his, and suddenly they’re screaming at each other in a restaurant again. This really is getting old.

“You don’t even want me”, Allison finds herself saying, and ignores the way Seth’s face twists at that. “If you did, you wouldn’t be fucking around with whats-her-name.”

“Like you didn’t flirt with that guy at Eden’s right in front of me”, Seth spits back, like it’s exactly the same thing. “We’ve talked about this. We got over it. What’s the big deal now?”

The image of Renee’s face flashes through Allison’s mind, but she shoves it back quickly. Renee was the reason she finally gathered the guts to do it, but, in the end, this is about Allison and what she wants, and what she wants hasn’t been Seth in a long, long time.

“The big deal is that I have the right to end a relationship if I feel like it”, she says, and it sounds so wrong, like she’s doing this on a whim because she’s bored or something. Wouldn’t be the first time – Allison hasn’t always had reason to break up with Seth, in the past –, but now it’s different, and she doesn’t want him thinking this is just another dramatic separation for the drama of it, so she adds: “And I mean it, Seth. We’re not great together. You’re not good for me.”

As Allison expected, Seth looks like she’s just stabbed him in the chest. Which, in a way, she did.

“Don’t try to pin this on me, Allison. This relationship is made of two.”

Maybe it’s because he’s right, but all the fight drains out of Allison like makeup under the stream of the shower. She’s still angry, mostly at Seth, partly at herself, but yelling seems pointless. They will never figure out the millions of reasons why they didn’t work out together. They’ll never be able to fix it. She needs to break up with Seth, and he will have to take her word for it if he can’t see why.

“I’m not good for you either, Seth”, she says, quietly. Their argument has gotten a few curious looks from nearby tables, but she ignores them in favor of focusing all her attention on Seth. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. This was never going to work out.”

“Not if you keep saying this shit” Hurt and anger look almost exactly the same on Seth, but Allison can tell the difference. Right now, this is hurt – but he never really learned how to handle it, how to express it, and it comes out in the form of a loud punch at the table that rattles the cutlery and turns several heads their directions. It comes out in the form of him saying, tone annoyed instead of pleading: “Come on, Allie. Don’t be a bitch about this. We can-”

That’s what does it for Allison. At the sound of the word “bitch”, she grabs her purse and stands up, her chest feeling like it’s filled with barbed wire, cutting into her heart every time she inhales too deeply.

“We’re done”, she says one more time, for good measure. “You hear it, Seth? Done. Don’t ever fucking call me again.”

She leaves him with the check, her head held high and a middle finger up when someone’s phone camera flashes. That will give them a good headline, she thinks bitterly. Seth keeps calling her name, but Allison doesn’t turn back. Turns out, she didn’t have to worry about not being able to do this.

She hates him for making it so easy for her to walk away.

Outside in the parking lot, the cold hearted badass persona crumbles, and Allison leans against the wall, closing her eyes an allowing herself the luxury of calming down for a moment. Her heart is rabbiting in her rib cage, cutting itself on that barbed wire, and she can’t believe she just did this. She can’t even being to untangle the mess of feelings in her chest - at least not here, where everyone can see her, and where Seth can come out to find her at any moment. Despite her shaky legs, Allison pushes away from the wall and starts walking towards her car.

She considered taking a cab to the restaurant, just because drinking some wine while having The Talk with Seth would make it a lot easier, but ultimately decided that having her own means of getting away was more important. Once inside her pink convertible, however, Allison can’t bring herself to drive. She clutches the wheel, long, bright red fingernails leaving indents on the leather surface, and stares at the restaurant through the windshield, and tries to will her feet to press on the gas pedal. Nothing happens. The keys hang from the ignition, useless, and eventually she turns it off. She can’t think. She couldn’t fight Seth in there, she can’t flee now - the only thing that Allison is capable of doing, it seems, is digging through her handbag until she finds her phone, dial a number and say, in a breathy, shaky voice she barely recognizes as her own:

“Can you come pick me up?”

She really needs to get moving before Seth gathers himself enough to come looking for her. But Allison just locks the car doors and sits there, waiting for the only face she could possibly want to see right now.

When the familiar black Maserati rolls into the parking lot, not even ten minutes later, Allison just shortly avoids backing up the convertible right into its front headlights. The last thing she needs is for Andrew Minyard, of all people, to see her like this, all teary-eyed and trembling an fragile. Her reputation will survive another tabloid scandal, but her ego will certainly not survive this. Instead of crashing her car, she resigns for lowering her head and praying he is willing to ignore her tonight the same way he ignores her in every other occasion.

A knock on her window derails her plans. Allison looks up to find a very concerned looking Renee Walker, colorful hair tucked behind her ears and a tense smile on her lips. Behind her, the Maserati is already pulling away, tinted windows hiding the psychotic midget in the driver’s seat from view.

Still surprised and a bit confused, Allison rolls down the window at the same time the restaurant’s door opens. She doesn’t turn to look at it, eyes fixed on Renee.

“Hi”, Renee says. She sounds so sweet Allison wants to cry.

“I can’t believe you actually came.”

Renee taps her fingers against the roof of the car in an unsteady rhythm.

“Of course I did. You sounded upset.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, and it might be, but Allison can’t remember the last time someone was there for her simply because she needed them. “So I came. Andrew was just giving me a ride home, anyway.”

Allison opens her mouth to say something stupid - probably along the lines of how the fuck are you friends with Andrew Minyard? -, but she’s interrupted by a familiar voice calling “hey, Reynolds!” from across the parking lot. Her stomach drops to her feet when she takes a look at Seth’s face. After all those long moments of waiting, she had convinced herself he wouldn’t come looking for her, and, even though the idea of him giving up so easily stung, it was still better than seeing the anger and hurt in his face. He hasn’t called her Reynolds in years.

Renee’s fingers still. She straightens her back, eyes fixed on Seth, and Allison doesn’t recognize the blank expression on her face; it seems dangerous, calculating, so opposite of the bright, kind face that greets her every morning on set.

“Trouble?”, Renee guesses. Seth ignores her completely, his eyes locked on Allison’s through the windshield.

“Allison, come on. Let’s talk about this like fucking adults.”

Allison can’t look away from him. She considers running him over. She considers getting out of the car. She can’t force her body to move. It’s not fear, because she still isn’t afraid of Seth. It’s just. She can’t believe she will actually walk away from him and never look back. She isn’t sure she can do it.

“Leave her alone” Renee’s voice is calm, albeit a little cold. Once again, Seth doesn’t even seem to hear her. “Hey. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

That’s when Allison realizes Renee’s hands are clenched into fists by her side, and that snaps her out of this weird haze. She isn’t sure why she slides into the passenger seat, other than it making it easier for Renee to get in the car, since she’s already standing by the driver’s door.

“Get in”, she asks. Renee does as she’s told without tearing her eyes from Seth, and, in Allison’s chest, the strange comfort of this protectiveness collides with the unease of having someone consider Seth a threat, making her nauseous. “Let’s just go, okay? Anywhere. You drive, you choose.”

Seth stopped a few feet away from the car, and Allison can tell he’s torn between yelling and crying.

“Allison”, he says again, but doesn’t add anything to it. Unable to stop herself, Allison mouths I’m sorry and hopes it’s enough, even though she knows it isn’t.

Then Renee’s turning the keys and pressing the gas pedal, and they’re out of the parking lot before she can even think about regretting this.

What a fucking relief.

Chapter Text

They stay quiet until Seth and the restaurant are out of sight, and then for a little longer, because Renee doesn’t know what to say and Allison is staring out the window and looking like her head is elsewhere. The streets pass in a blur, all bright lights and billboards and the awfully exhilarating feeling of being out like this, at this time. It isn’t late enough for a city to be asleep, specially not this city, but it still feels like it, like the only two awake people in the world are here, in this car.

Renee doesn’t know where to go, either, so she just drives away, paying only enough attention to make sure they won’t get lost. She turns on the radio eventually, but what comes up is a punk rock song that might remind Allison of Seth, so she turns it off. She thinks she could ask what happened and get an answer, but she doesn’t feel like pushing. Renee knows what it’s like to just want someone to be there, not to talk, not to cry on, just to be present. That’s why her friendship with Andrew works so well.

So, she lets the silence linger until Allison feels ready to speak, which takes less time than expected.

“Thank you” When Renee looks up at Allison, she’s still looking out the window. “For picking me up. I know it was… sudden.”

“Of course”, Renee says. “I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t want you to call.”

“Right. But this probably wasn’t what you were hoping for.”

Renee wonders if it would be okay to tell the truth: that she doesn’t mind the circumstances, as long as she’s with Allison, as long as she can make Allison feel better, as long as she can help. Maybe Allison doesn’t want to hear it yet. Maybe it’s too soon.

Instead, she says:

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Allison shaking her head. This is a bad position for them, Renee decides. She shouldn’t be paying attention to traffic lights now; she should be paying attention to Allison.

“Alright, then”, she says, and takes a sharp turn left. “Do you want to stay with me?”

Silence. Then, Renee feels a weight atop of her hand where it’s resting on the stick shift, and looks down to see Allison’s fingers intertwine with her, long red nails scratching lightly. She can’t help but smiling a little.

They end up in a parking lot behind a closed grocery store. It’s the kind of place Renee found when she first moved here: quiet, isolated, somewhere to run away from all the noise and hurry of the city. It’s on top of a hill, so they get a nice view of the city lights. It’s not somewhere Renee ever thought she’d visit with company. It’s definitely not where she envisioned taking Allison the first time they went out together.

It works, though, because she can park the car and turn to stare at Allison. Her eyes are bright with tears, glinting under the faint light, but not a single one escapes before she blinks them away. Renee tries to imagine what she’s thinking of. She hopes Allison knows Seth isn’t worth ruining her makeup for. She hopes Allison knows that, if her makeup gets ruined, Renee will be here to fix it.

“So”, Allison starts. Her voice wavers slightly, but she presses on. “ What do you think the headline will be tomorrow?”

Renee winces. This is bad.

“Allison-”

“I’m willing to bet the words ‘drama queen’ will be involved”, Allison continues, as if she hasn’t spoken. “’Movie star Allison Reynolds makes a scene in real life’ might make an appearance again. They like recycling that one, God knows why – it’s shows an awful lack of creativity, doesn’t it?”

“ Allison.”

“And, of course, my faithful companions ‘cold’ and ‘heartless’ should be a part of it too” Here, Allison lets out a laugh that is not, by any measure, amused. “I hope they call me Ice Princess again. That’s gotta be my all-time favorite.”

Renee lets go of the stick shift and turns her hand up so she can properly hold Allison’s, squeezing tight enough to get her attention.

“Allison, you can’t do that to yourself.”

Allison inhales sharply, her fingers trembling a little in Renee’s grip.

“I’m sorry”, she says, and it sounds so pained; it takes a lot of Renee’s strength of will not to unbuckle her seat belt and take her in her arms. Allison Reynolds doesn’t look like the kind of woman to say those words to anyone; Renee isn’t sure why she’s deserving of them right here, right now. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m such a mess. I shouldn’t get you involved in this.”

It’s unclear whether this means the messy breakup with Seth, or just Allison in general. Either way, Renee’s not having any of this self-deprecating bullshit.

“And why is that, exactly?”, she asks, always too careful to say what’s really on her mind.

“Because it ends badly”, Allison says it with such conviction it would be hard not to believe her, under different circumstances. Fortunately for her, Renee’s been in love since they first time they met; she doesn’t let go. “Because look what happened to Seth. Because my shitty reputation is currently at its lowest fucking point, and I like you too much to have the tabloids shred you to pieces like they’re going to do to me.”

It’s not the time tp focus on the “I like you” part – not yet, at least. So Renee doesn’t show how the words make her heart sing. Instead, she says, with all the honesty she can muster:

“I don’t care about your reputation. I care about you. ”

She’s said it before, on the day that they met, but Allison doesn’t seem to take it any better this time around. The emotions that fleet through her face are too complicated and change too fast for Renee to follow properly, but she gets enough: surprise, confusion, anger, sadness. When Allison lets go of her hand and gets out of the car, the loud noise of the door banging shut rings in Renee’s ears. Following her is not a hard decision.

“I’m sorry”, Allison says again, when they’re both sitting on the bright pink hood of the car. She’s staring at the city lights, blue eyes distant but not cold, never cold around Renee. How someone could call this fiery woman an “Ice Princess”, is beyond Renee’s comprehension. “I know that was an unnecessarily dramatic exit. The press isn’t always wrong about me, you know.”

“I find that very hard to believe”, Renee says, and she means it, but Allison smiles and shakes her head.

“It’s true. I can be a bitch. And I can be overdramatic. And I can be cold, and snobby, and a bit of a-”

“Having character flaws is not a crime, you know. Everyone can be a bitch, sometimes.”

She knows it was the right thing to say when Allison turns to look at her, golden hair glinting like gold in the little light that reaches them. Like this, she doesn’t look like a movie star. She couldn’t be any further from the powerful hero Renee saw on the screen.

Renee has never liked her more.

“You aren’t, though. You’re never a bitch.”

“I was in a gang, Allison.” Renee barely realizes what she’s saying until the words are out, and by then it’s too late - and she’s fine with it. That was years ago. Allison might get in the car and run away, but, in that case, Renee is prepared to let her go, as heartbroken as she might be. She has no business insisting on being with someone who isn’t able to handle this part of her life. “I’ve done things that haunt me to this day. I have more character flaws than you could possibly count.”

There’s a beat of silence. Allison doesn’t turn away, and neither does Renee. They just stare at each other, quietly, maybe realizing the same thing: none of them is exactly what they seem, but it doesn’t really matter, because now they know each other, for better or worse.

Allison is used to being seen as Ice Princess, a diva, a bit of a snob. Renee is used to being labeled as the “sweetheart that has never done anything wrong in her life”. But r ight here, right now, after Renee’s confession, whatever masks have been forced onto them are gone; they’re just people. Renee knows Allison can be kind, and warm, and welcoming. Now, Allison knows Renee hasn’t always been a saint. It should make the moment worse, make it harder, the mortifying ordeal of being known clawing at them and pulling them away, ripping them apart – but, somehow, for some wonderfully odd miracle, that isn’t what happens.

Renee has people that know about her past. Her mom, and Andrew, and Kevin, and Jean.

But she isn’t so sure that Allison is used to being known by anyone, a nd she would very much like to be the first.

“I’m sorry you went through that”, is what Allison chooses to say. Renee shakes her head, very seriously.

“It was a choice I made. A terrible one, at that, but it was mine. I take full responsibility for all of my actions. And I repent.” The cross necklace Renee always wears usually feels heavier when she talks about her past, but not now. Now, she can’t think of anything other than Allison. “It was a while ago. I was young, and very stupid.”

Allison moves an inch or so closer, pressing their shoulders together.

“And now?”

Renee laughs a little. She can’t believe this conversation is going so well.

“Now I’m less young, and, hopefully, slightly less stupid.”

“You are sitting on a hood with me after I just had a scandalous break-up”, Allison points out. There’s a hint of a smile on the corner of her mouth, but it’s sad. “If you ask me, that’s pretty stupid.”

Under different circumstances, the answer to this could be a joke, a light-hearted flirt, a clever pick up line. Here, in the half light, with the noise of the city in the distance, all Renee can muster is:

“It’s not stupid. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.”

They’re very close, now, and Allison’s eyes are so bright it almost looks like she’s crying.

“You’re not going to think that when you see the headlines tomorrow.”

Frustration grows inside Renee - not towards Allison, necessarily, but towards whoever made her feel like her reputation was worth more than her as a person.

“It’s a delicate situation”, she agrees. Her eyes dart to the bright red of Allison’s mouth, then back up. She leans in a millimeter, suddenly unsure after everything that’s happened tonight. They’re almost whispering now, as if afraid to disturb the moment. Renee feels a sudden sense of urgency, and pushes it down in favor of taking things slow. “I- I don’t mean to push you.”

Allison’s breath hitches a little, then goes back to normal.

“You’re not.”

“I understand you just broke up with Seth. And I understand this could mean something bad for your career.”

Allison doesn’t ask what “this” is, for which Renee is relieved. She was afraid to sound to presumptuous, assuming that they have a “this” to share and talk about and plan for, but this is the validation that she needs to gather the remains of her courage and add:

“Maybe this all too soon, but I think about you all the time. When I see the headlines about you and Seth, I don’t believe what they say about you. All I can think is, well” Here, she has to pause to take a deep, shaky breath. Her hands are trembling where they lay on top of her jeans, and it doesn’t help when Allison takes one of them in her own manicured hand . “I wonder what it would be like if you were mine, that’s the thing. I wouldn’t mind being a part of your reputation.”

It’s out there. The words hang heavy over their heads like storm clouds, and Renee has a moment to feel a mix of relief for finally saying it out loud and fear that she just screwed everything up.

Then, Allison’s lips are on her, and she has no room for feeling anything other than want.

It’s tentative, soft, delicate, with Allison’s hand clinging to the back of Renee’s neck and her lips smooth and slow. It lasts forever. This city never sleeps, but, right now, it feels like it, like there’s no one else awake to see them, to criticize them, to put them on the news. T hey are the only people in the whole world, and the only witnesses to their kiss are the stars on the sky above, hiding behind a thin layer of pollution, too far away to care about two messy young women making out on the hood of a car.

One of Allison’s hands finds its way into Renee’s hair, not pulling, just resting there. Renee cradles Allison’s face in her palms as gently as she can, marveling at the impossibility of this, at the impossibility of them. She’s touched Allison’s face before, countless times, smearing color on eyelids and cheekbones with her brushes, but this is so different. This is personal, and, most importantly, this is just for them.

When they pull back, is just an inch, keeping their lips close enough to almost touch. When Allison finally speaks again, she whispers her words into Renee’s mouth.

“What now?”

The question isn’t unexpected, exactly, but the tone - the uncertainty in Allison’s voice, the little waver on the last syllable – breaks Renee’s heart a little bit. She can see the cogs turning in her mind, trying to figure out how this will play out tomorrow, writing up headlines and mean comments on social media. Suddenly, she remembers that, tomorrow, she’ll go back to having to share Allison with the world, and the idea makes a wave of something ugly and anxious rise in her chest.

But that’s only for tomorrow. The night is still young, and so are they.

“Be mine”, Renee says, and her own tone comes as a surprise, too. She isn’t sure if this is an answer to Allison’s question, or a plea, or something else, but, in the end, they all seem to be leading the same way. Allison gives her this looks that’s almost scared, and she adds, words slurring together in their haste to get out: “I’m not asking you for forever. I’m asking you for one night. This doesn’t have to be on the news tomorrow.”

The hand that isn’t in Renee’s hair goes to her face, tracing lightly over her eyebrows, the shape of her eyes, her nose. It finally rests against her cheekbone, thumb caressing the skin under her right eye gently.

“I don’t care about the news”, Allison decides, and it sounds final. Her eyes shine brighter than the stars and the city lights and anything else Renee has ever seen, and, this time, it doesn’t look like they’re full of tears. “Take me home.”

Chapter Text

Allison’s reputation hits rock bottom on a Sunday morning, and her way of dealing with it is to obsessively read the comments online about it. She knows it isn’t healthy, but she just can’t help herself.

By the time Allison is done reading the same article for the third time, Renee has just started to stir in her arms. She holds her breath, doing her best not to move too much. Renee always looks kind and soft and at ease, but there’s something so peaceful about her when she’s sleeping, and even though it’s been weeks since they first kissed on the hood of Allison’s car, Allison’s still not quite used to the way this display of trust makes her heart clench.

Renee sighs softly, head resting against Allison’s chest. For a second, it seems like she’s about to drift off again, until she mutters:

“Is it time to get up yet?”

Allison looks at her phone screen, where the big red letters of the headline stare back at her. In the corner, much smaller and less threatening, the clock says they still have a couple hours before they need to go to work.

“You’re in luck. Go back to sleep, babe.”

Instead of doing just that, Renee shifts until she can raise her head enough to kiss Allison’s cheek.

“Morning.”

“Barely. It’s really early, Renee. You should try and get some more sleep.”

“Why are you awake, then?”

It isn’t fair, really, that Renee can be so smart at such an ungodly hour. Allison sighs. She doesn’t want to talk about it. She doesn’t want to think about. If she’s being honest, she kind of wishes she’d waited until later, until she was too caught up in the work day to really have the time to worry about what the media has to say about her – but then, patience has never been Allison’s strongest suit.

The news about her break-up with Seth traveled fast. The morning after the scene at the restaurant, it was already plastered on every second grade tabloid and gossip magazine, all over Twitter and Instagram: Movie star Allison Reynolds breaks punk rock astro Seth Gordon’s heart. Some focused more on Seth, some just objectively informed the end of the relationship, some simply lamented that such an iconic pair was now separated. A couple articles said Allison deserved better, for which she was grateful. A lot more articles said Seth deserved better, and Allison actively ignored the feeling of being stabbed that came with reading those.

Renee sat with her while she fell down the social media spiral, until she decided to gently pry the phone from Allison’s hands and kiss her until she wasn’t thinking about it anymore, until she had managed to convince Allison that she was worthy, that she was allowed to do what she thought was best for herself, despite what other people would say.

It would be awesome to have that kind of support right now, except now Renee might also be needing some moral support of her own.

For the millionth time since she woke up, half an hour ago, Allison reads the title of the article: Allison Reynolds seen looking very cozy with mystery woman at bar. She’s not sure why she’s picked this one to fixate on, except maybe for the fact it’s fairly neutral – it doesn’t even say “lesbian” or “gay” (because of course these people don’t know what a bisexual is), and it doesn’t call her or Renee anything offensive. She did read many other articles before, many of which immediately assumed everything and more about her sexuality, Renee’s identity, and whether or not they were already cozy when Allison was still dating Seth. Allison’s Instagram profile is madness right now.

All the articles and news stories show the same picture: Allison leaning close to Renee in the smoking area of that same bar Allison ran away from a couple months ago, both of them smiling and looking into each other’s eyes with an intensity that is impossible to mistake unless you’re trying very hard to get it wrong. Allison remembers the moment all too well. The entire crew went out for drinks the night before, and somehow she ended up in the smoking area with Renee, who had bummed off a few cigarettes from Andrew Minyard. Despite the fact both of them had allegedly quit smoking years ago, Allison ended up shotgunning smoke from Renee’s lips, and that was apparently the moment someone found appropriate to take a picture of them, which got sent to a tabloid, then to a magazine, then to a gossip profile on Instagram, and so forth.

There’s no way to hide any of this from Renee. Soon enough, people will find out her identity – she’s working with Allison on her current project, so it’s just a matter of time before someone on Twitter does a scan of all the cast and crew and finds who the only one with platinum hair with colorful tips is. Allison and Renee wouldn’t have been this careless if they hadn’t talked about going public before, but still. Allison is used to the media shitstorm. Renee isn’t.

Allison doesn’t have to explain any of this, though. Renee can tell from her expression alone. She sighs, then extends one hand towards Allison’s phone.

“Let me see.”

Allison passes her the phone, full of text messages and missed calls from friends and agents she’s ignoring. As Renee reads the article, she reads Renee’s face, waiting for the shift in her tranquility, but it never comes. Renee doesn’t look scared, or angry, or worried. She just looks sad.

“That’s one of the good ones”, Allison says, because, for whatever stupid reason, she feels the need to justify herself and her mental breakdown. “There’s a lot of others. A lot worse.”

“And I’ sure you’ve read them all” Renee sighs. “You know, this borders on self harming behavior.”

“I’ve never been much for self-harm”, Allison deadpans. “I usually harm others when I’m pissed.”

Instead of giving the phone back to Allison, Renee glares at her and puts it on the bedside table on her side of the bed. Her side of the bed. Because, at this point, she’s slept over often enough that this is a fact, because waking up next to each other is becoming somewhat of a routine for them. The realization makes Allison’s heart skip a beat in her chest. She can barely manage to look wounded when Renee says:

“I’m confiscating this for the day.”

“Fine. I’ll buy a new one.”

Something flashes in Renee’s eyes – frustration, maybe. Not quite anger, but the closest Allison has ever seen her get to exasperation.

“Don’t make me break your new phone. I’m serious. I’ll do it.”

She wouldn’t, but Allison gives up anyway. She knows it’s for the best. Besides, it doesn’t matter anymore. Renee was right: she did read everything there is to be read about herself online this morning. Maybe she can steal Kevin’s phone to check Twitter later.

Ugh. Kevin. She can’t wait to hear what he has to say about this.

Before she can talk herself into skipping work and spending the day hiding under the covers, Allison throws the blankets to the side, stands up and yanks the curtains open. Her bedroom window is huge, showing the whole view of the city waking up many floors down. Usually, she likes these quiet hours, when she hasn’t been forced to become Allison Reynolds The Movie Star yet, but she’s already over being Allison Reynolds With A Midnight Existential Crisis. Today, thought, there’s no time to enjoy it. She has an armor to put on.

“I’m gonna make breakfast”, she tells Renee over her shoulders. “What do you want?”

“You”, Renee repeats, carefully, like the words are foreign. “Are going to make breakfast.”

Allison turns to face her, putting on her best challenging smile.

“Well, we are making breakfast” She shrugs. “I have food in the cupboards. I have the internet. I got a stellar score on my SATs. Sort of. You’re pretty smart. How hard can it be?”

She was hoping the promise of making a mess in the kitchen with her favorite movie star would be enough to distract Renee, but no such luck. Her eyebrows knit together in that way that can only mean one thing: she’s thinking too hard, but she’s also trying not to let it show. She won’t say this is a bad idea or you shouldn’t go out today or you need more time to process this before you show your face in public.

What she says is:

“Or we could stay in bed and cuddle all day long. Doesn’t that sound better?” While burrowing further in the mountain of blankets and pillows Allison always keeps on her bed, she adds: “We could blow off work, too. I don’t think anyone would mind. What are they gonna do, fire their star?”

Her tone is light, joking, and it sure is a tempting proposition, but Allison sees right through it. Besides, she’s wrong – if this was a different production, with a different crew, being seen being too cozy with a woman might as well get her fired. It’s her turn to sigh, letting her shoulders sag a little, giving up on the brave face and leveling Renee with a serious look.

“I’m not hiding, Renee.”

“That’s not what I mean” Renee looks guilty, and a little embarrassed. “I just figured-”

“I know” Allison’s voice softens a little. This is where her and Seth would have gotten into an argument, but she forces herself to take a deep breath and think before she says: “I know you want to protect me. Same way I wanted to protect you from all this” She gestures vaguely to the bedside table where her phone is stashed away. “But these people have enough control over my life as it is. I can’t give them any more by letting them decide when I get to leave my house. If I don’t show up for work today, then that’s another headline tomorrow, and then another, then another. If I hide, they win.” She pauses. “I think we’ve hidden enough.”

It takes a moment, but Renee nods, the words sinking in slowly. She gets up and comes to stand next to Allison in front of the window, the early sunlight framing her head like a halo.

“Whatever you want”, she promises. Allison has heard the words before, from countless mouths, in varying circumstances, but she’s never believed them until now. “Tell me how we’re handling this.”

Allison doesn’t like to think of what it says about her that she already has a plan.

***

They go to work separately: Allison takes her car as usual, and Renee leaves her to take the bus. Hopefully, it will keep Renee away from the press for a little while. While she claimed she didn’t care if her identity became public, Allison would rather shelter her from the heat for as long as she can. Besides, paparazzi can be pretty annoying, and she doesn’t want Renee to be there to listen to her sharp replies to their many questions. Sometimes, Allison does live up to her reputation of being mean.

There’s a third reason for it, one that Allison is trying very hard not to think about: as long as there isn’t a face to the scandal, she still has a chance of acting like none of this happened. She can still ignore the questions, make a statement on her Instagram about the media’s unnecessary and invasive meddling, and move on with her act of being perfectly heterosexual. She doesn’t have to come out yet, doesn’t have to jeopardize her career, doesn’t have to have The Talk with her agent and everyone else on the entire fucking world.

Allison is sick of living a lie. But she’s been lying for so long that the truth sticks to her throat, twists around her tongue, chokes her by refusing to come out.

She knows that Renee would say it’s okay, she can take her time, she doesn’t have to rush into anything she isn’t ready for. And it isn’t fair for Allison to put her through that. It isn’t fair for Allison to put herself through that. But then again, this isn’t really her doing. She didn’t put herself in this position; other people did.

Allison did let Renee get suck into it. Which is why she needs to gather the courage to fucking come clean with the media.

Soon. Not just yet, though.

Everyone on set pretends not to be staring at Allison while she walks with firm steps towards the makeup station, after pushing a few reporters out of her way and cursing out a few more. Renee isn’t here yet – it will take her a couple more minutes on the bus – but, of course, Kevin fucking Day is sprawled on a chair, watching her intently as if he’s been waiting for her.

Allison grits her teeth, considers changing directions, thinks about hiding in the bathroom until Renee shows up. In the end, she squares her shoulders and walks straight to Kevin. She isn’t letting the reporters win, and she sure as hell isn’t letting Kevin get the satisfaction.

The fact he doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at her with those annoyingly pretty green eyes, is somehow worse. After a minute, Allison snaps.

“Just say it. I know you’re dying to.”

“Renee seems to be running late today”, is all that comes out of Kevin’s mouth. God, Allison wants to punch him.

“Is that all? I have to say, Day, that’s kinda disappointing. I was hoping for at least a speech about how I just ruined my career, since that’s all that seem to matter to you.”

Kevin purses his lips, and, for a moment, Allison can see a human being behind the holier-than-all façade he keeps on all the time. She isn’t sure what changes. Maybe his eyes seem a little softer, or his shoulders, a little more slouched. The fact is: when Kevin speaks again, it’s the first time that the sound of his voice doesn’t make Allison’s blood boil ever since they met:

“Maybe it’s good to have other things to care about. Other than your career.”

In the long moment it takes before Allison processes her words, the irritation bubbling in her chest suffers a weird metamorphosis into a sort of sympathy, too foreign to really acknowledge. Her tone, however, is as cold and mocking as usual:

“You wish you had the balls to do it, don’t you?”

Kevin doesn’t say anything, but that’s all the answer Allison needs.

She takes a moment to feel triumphant over being better than Kevin Day at something, then secretly, silently, wishes him good luck. She would rather gauge her own eyes to admit it, but she hopes that whatever is going on between him and Minyard works out, in the end. Kevin Day might be a pretentious, opportunistic leech, but not even leeches deserve to die closeted.

The rest of the day goes on in a weirdly normal fashion. There’s a bit of awkwardness when Renee arrives, a lot of people glancing between her and Allison and murmuring to each other, but, other than that, it all goes as planned. Renee does Allison’s makeup faster than she’s ever done before, like she’s nervous that, if they’re close for too long, the delicate balance they’ve created here will crumble, but her hands are as steady and sure as ever. Her smile is a little tense, but Allison thinks she’s the only one that can tell. It’s very clear that this isn’t Renee’s first time smiling during a stressful situation.

A couple people also approach Allison to tell her they’re sorry to hear about her and Seth, to offer their support, to flirt with her, to say she’s “very brave”. The only person whose reaction Allison has been sort of concerned about is Matt, so she’s been sort of avoiding him, until he approaches her on his own to make it clear that, while he’ll be a shoulder for Seth to cry on and everything, he isn’t mad at her or anything, which is a very weird conversation to have, but is also sort of sweet.

“Seth’s a difficult guy, I get it”, he says. Allison can’t help but smiling a bit.

“I’m a pretty difficult chick, myself. Bad combination, huh?”

Matt laughs, seeming pleasantly surprised by the response.

“Yeah, I guess so” He pauses, hesitating, then says: “I think you and Renee are cute. You guys make a good pair.”

Allison glances to where Renee is chatting with other makeup artists, all the way across the set. She’s trying hard to believe they’re a good match, and it’s getting easier by the hour.

“Thanks. I hope so.”

“I think it’s very brave of you”, Matt blurts out, then looks embarrassed for saying it. “I mean. You know what I mean. I support you, that’s what I’m saying. I think it’s cool that you’re living your truth and all.”

Allison finds herself surprised when that almost brings tears to her eyes, although she really shouldn’t; support has been sorely lacking from her life since she was a kid, and now every little crumb of it she gets feels like a whole meal. She blinks, trying to get the remnants of her dignity back.

“I appreciate that, Matt. Thanks.”

A smile spreads across Matt’s lips, and he pats her on the shoulder gently.

“Just don’t tell Seth about it”, he says, with a wink, before walking away to film the last of his scenes.

Her conversations with both Kevin and Matt stay in Allison’s mind the rest of the day, rolling around in her head like loose marbles. It takes her hours to figure out what’s bothering her, but then again, she really should know from the beginning. It’s what’s been bothering her ever since she saw Renee for the first time, ever since they kissed and Allison couldn’t hold her hand in public, ever since they arrived separately to work because of the cameras out front.

Allison isn’t any braver than Kevin. Deep down, she’s still trying to hide.

And honestly, she’s had enough.

Filming goes on until well after the sun goes down. Allison fumbles her lines several times, forgets her cues, get fight scenes all wrong – overall, it’s not her best work, but she can’t even bring herself to care right now. She has other things in mind, and she’s starting to agree with Kevin; maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.

When they’re finally done shooting, Allison finds Renee though the confusion of people gathering their stuff to leave. Renee smiles upon seeing her.

“Don’t worry”, she says immediately, and Allison doesn’t even know what she is worried about, but she can feel herself starting to relax. Pavlovian response. But then Renee’s next words make her tense up again: “I can get a ride with Andrew. He’s coming to pick Kevin up, and he said-”

“You’re not going home with fucking Andrew Minyard”, Allison interrupts, sounding a little more intense than she intended to. Renee eyes her carefully.

“I can take the bus”, she offers. “Or ask Matt. Or-”

Allison doesn’t say anything, just grabs her hand, but that’s enough to cut Renee off. She freezes for a second, glancing around. Some people openly stare at them, some people look discreetly, some people don’t even seem to notice them. Near the door, Allison sees Matt giving her a thumbs up before he disappears. Kevin is sitting next to him; he looks away when Allison meets his gaze.

“Allison, it’s okay. Really.” With the hand that isn’t being clutched, Renee touches Allison’s face gently, so similar to other fleeting touches in the past, in both personal and professional scenarios. There’s comfort there, and Allison takes some strength from knowing that she has this to rely on. “I don’t mind. We don’t have to-”

“Do something stupid with me”, Allison interrupts. Renee smiles a little, but it’s a bit of a melancholic expression.

“This isn’t the time for you to make impulsive decisions, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care” As the words come out of Allison’s mouth, a sense of urgency overtakes her, and she realizes just how true they are. God, how could she have been so stupid? How could have she taken so fucking long to come to this? “I don’t care about my fucking reputation, and I don’t care about what the newspapers say. They can’t have my life, and they can’t have you.” Her hand squeezes Renee’s tighter, a desperate plea. The room is full of people, and there is only one that matters; that says everything Allison needs to know about the situation. “Let’s do things on our own terms. I’m done hiding.”

For the longest moment, Renee just stares at her, expression a mix of pride, fear and anticipation. Then, she squares her shoulders and leans down to pick her backpack up from the floor.

“Whatever you want”, she echoes the words from this morning.

Even as someone who’s used to having eyes on her all the time, Allison has never, ever felt so seen.

Her heart is hammering in her chest by the time they get to the door, but it calms down a little when Renee’s hand wraps around hers. Pavlovian response.

“Ready for it?”, Renee asks. And, much to her own surprise, Allison means it when she says:

“Ready.”

Most of the reporters have gone home for the night, but a few still linger here and there, and they rush over when they see who just left the building. There are a lot of questions, a lot of flashes, and Allison feels disoriented by it in a way she hasn’t felt ever since she was a newcomer, barely out of her teenager years, still so unsure of who she was and what she wanted.

Then Renee squeezes her hand, and Allison remembers she’s not that naive girl anymore. She knows who she is. She knows what she wants, and she knows how to get it.

Kissing Renee right there in front of the cameras might be a little dramatic, but then again, drama is kind of Allison’s thing. Renee doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest – because she knows Allison more than almost anyone, she was probably expecting just that. Cameras flash all around them as they cling to each other, but Allison doesn’t even notice. She has better things to care about, right now.

There is no amount of headlines, mean social media comments or magazine articles in the world that could convince her that she’s doing something bad – not when this feels so good.

When she pulls away from Renee, both of them giddy with excitement and a little bit of nerves, Allison proudly raises her middle finger up in the air and walks Renee to her car. This time, she’s sure the middle finger shot won’t make it onto the front page – not when she’s given them something so much better.

For once, Allison is looking forward to seeing the headlines tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Renee can’t honestly decide which is more daunting: the bright lights, the camera flashes, the red carpet, or the prospect of facing all of this with Allison Reynolds hanging from her arm.

The limousine was terrifying when it showed up at her doorstep earlier, causing the entire neighborhood to run to the windows to watch her leave her building and get in the car. Now, though, it feels almost like a safe space, with its tinted windows and relative anonymity here, in this street where every car seems to be as flashy and as expensive. Renee sinks further into the leather seat. She’s faced gangs and juvie, but at least she never felt so much like she didn’t belong in these places.

Now, even if she has an obscenely pricey white suit and the fanciest makeup she’s ever done on herself on, Renee knows there is no chance in hell she belongs here. Being a makeup artist has allowed her to be close to the world of the rich and famous while neatly avoiding the fame altogether, and she doesn’t know how to do things any other way.

Allison, of course, senses her hesitation, because Renee has pointed it out to her several times while they shopped for the suit (which, in the end, Allison insisted on having specially tailored to fit Renee). She seems to find it amusing, rather than concerning.

“Babe, no one’s going to bite you. It’s gonna be fine.”

The endearment makes Renee’s heart skip a beat. Even now, months after that first kiss in a parking lot, weeks after that kiss in front of the cameras, sometimes she still can’t believe Allison gets to love her so openly, so unafraid.

“I know.” She sounds calm, but that doesn’t mean much. Renee always sounds calm. It was a necessary survival skill during a big part of her life. “I know. I just. Please don’t let me trip and fall.” She looks down at her own feet, suspicious of the platform boots Allison presented to her with the suit. “I haven’t walked in heels this high in a while, and your dress has a pretty long trail.”

Allison laughs. Said dress is hot pink, with a V-shaped cleavage that doesn’t leave a lot to imagination and a long, flowy piece of fabric that trails behind her for several inches. Her heels are much higher and much sharper than Renee’s, and she looks infinitely more comfortable in them, too.

It’s not Renee’s favorite dress of hers, but Allison looks beautiful nevertheless. Renee has told her this a hundred times before they got here, and she will tell it a hundred more before the night is over.

“I won’t let you fall”, Allison promises. She reaches for the limousine door. “Come on. Everybody’s waiting for us.”

“Everybody’s waiting for you”, Renee corrects, with a smile.

Allison shrugs, as fearless and powerful as she was the first time Renee saw her walk into the set. Has it really been long enough for the movie to be finished and premiering? It feels like that was just yesterday, and, at the same time, like a lifetime has passed since.

“But I’m not going anywhere without you”, she counters. “Which means they are waiting for us.”

It’s not the realization that there is an us that gets to Renee; she has come to accept this fairly quickly in the last couple weeks, enough that it doesn’t surprise her anymore to hear it, even though it still sends a pleasant warmth spreading in her chest. No, it’s the knowing there is an us, and other people know it, recognize it, have to accept it, whether they like it or not. Renee isn’t surprised that Allison loves her. She is surprised that this love can be put on display like this.

She opens the car door and steps outside on shaky legs, ignoring the flashes and questions in favor of leaning in to help Allison get out of the limo. She’s unsure of what to do next, with Allison towering above her and all of these people around her and the carpet seeming ready to trip her up, but Allison, of course, has the answer. She takes Renee’s hand in hers firmly, giving her no choice but to walk forward.

“I got you”, she leans in to whisper, the scent of her perfume drifting around Renee like a wave of familiarity. “Trust me.”

Renee does, and Allison does what she does best: walks with her head held high and charms entire crowds. Questions from reporters, photos, screaming fans – Allison shields Renee from all of it, letting Renee simply walk besides her and be the arm candy she was meant to be. It isn’t so bad, after all. It’s a front row seat for the beauty Renee has always watched through a television screen.

At some point, a reporter stops Allison to ask her if it’s true that she is dating her makeup artist, to which Allison raises their joined hands and says, in the tone that gotten her deemed the Ice Queen:

“Honestly, if you still have to ask me, you haven’t been doing your job right.”

Renee feels so very proud of her. Even prouder than when they get to the premiere room – real front row seats, courtesy of being the movie’s star’s plus one – and she gets to watch both of their works on the big screen. Renee’s makeup skills are a success, as they always are, but Allison’s acting is what steals the show, and, after the movie is done, the cast and crew wait in line to congratulate her and Kevin on their work. Standing beside Allison the whole time, Renee notices that, while the animosity between the co-stars hasn’t completely subsided, it definitely seems less heated now than when they had to actually work together. Maybe it’s just premiere night endorphins.

Renee is proud of that, too – but most of all, she’s proud of how happy Allison looks, even while openly kissing her by the door and on the limousine on the way home. It took them a while to get here, but it was worth the wait. The attention of a woman like this was worth keeping a secret for.

After they leave the party, it’s a pretty quiet night. They fall into Allison’s bed as soon as they get home, and, a couple hours later, both Allison’s dress and Renee’s suit discarded on the floor like, they just lay there in silence, enjoying the feeling of home in each other’s arms. Finally, Allison says in a hushed, almost reverent tone:

“I think this is my favorite movie I’ve ever worked on.”

Head pillowed on her chest, Renee smirks.

“Because you met me?”

“Don’t be so pretentious” Allison smacks her playfully, but soon her hand is back to caressing Renee’s hair. “But sure. Of course. Because I met you, baby.”

Renee will never, ever get tired of hearing her say that. It was tentative the first times, unsure if it was allowed, but now there’s a simplicity to the term, a sort of possession, that makes her weak in the knees.

“It was my favorite too”, she says, always glad to be a little sappy. “Because I met you, and because you found yourself along the way.”

Allison stays silent for long enough that, if Renee didn’t know any better, she might start to worry. As it is, she just waits, knowing Allison will find the words to express whatever she’s thinking of if she’s given enough time and no pressure.

“I suppose I did”, she says, at last. “I didn’t ever think I would have the courage. To do this, I mean. I guess you made me a stronger woman, or whatever.”

“Allison, I didn’t do anything” She thinks back to a couple minutes ago, her hands on Allison’s skin, and adds cheekily: “Well, I did a couple things to you. But I’m just along for the ride. You made your own choices, and you are living with the consequences.”

She can feel Allison’s laugh rumble against her years, and her heart seems to simultaneously expand and shrink with joy. She remembers the time when she saw Allison as untouchable and unreachable; it’s hard to believe she ever thought that, now that she has this American queen in her arms, all to herself.

“Let’s say you’re right”, Allison says, and Renee isn’t surprised. “So yeah. Definitely, my favorite movie I’ve ever been in.

“Even with having to kiss Kevin Day?”

Without looking, Renee knows Allison is grimacing.

“Ugh. Do we really need to remember that? Fine. Yes, even if I had to kiss Kevin Day’s disgusting mouth. Best movie I’ve ever made. Because of finding myself and all.” She leans down to deposit a kiss on the top of Renee’s head. “But because of you. Mostly because of you.”

Renee briefly considers giving a speech about how self love needs to come above all else at all times, but decides that can wait. Instead, she burrows further into the sheets, carving a little place for herself in Allison’s chest, right besides her heart.

“Yeah. It has definitely become my favorite movie, too.”