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“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Anaya snickers, saying something into the headset as MJ readjusts her dress.
“You better get used to this,” they reply, MJ standing up straighter as a makeup artist comes and brushes at her cheek. “This goes right, you’re gonna be the talk of the town after tonight.”
“I’m not going to win,” MJ says, smiling her thanks to the makeup artist as they step away– Anaya raising an eyebrow as MJ gives a look. “I’m not . Penelope Lewis is the front runner and besides, you really think half of these people actually watched Queensboro Bridge ?”
“Point taken,” Anaya replies, MJ centering herself as she takes a deep breath. “Still got money on you.”
MJ smirks before she hears her name called, the voices calling out for Mary Jane, Mary Jane, Mary Jane giving her the same butterflies they always did.
She’s been working as an actress for the better part of a decade, bit parts in small CW shows and the side character in a few low budget indie movies. Her choice of projects were, to quote one press commentator “a buffet of mediocrity” but that undermined the reality that for MJ, there really wasn’t a choice.
Michelle Jones Watson might have wanted to be an artist growing up but it was Mary Jane Watson that actually got the chance, the director of Queensboro specifically asking for her to audition after apparently seeing her one memorable scene in an indie movie a few years ago where she silently seethed as the main character got their due.
“You have the look,” she’d said at the time and MJ had been grateful– for the chance to audition and even more for the opportunity to take a part that not only looked good but felt good, the lead of a movie about a story that felt personal and felt right .
Slipping into the role had been like slipping into a second skin but when the shoot wrapped and went into post, MJ had moved on to the next– hustling for an audition and working with her agent to see what other opportunities could be made available to her.
It took her completely by surprise for their little movie to be picked up by the biggest streaming service on the planet, but even then– MJ hadn’t anticipated that it would gain much attraction. It’s not as if streaming platforms had a particularly great history of promoting stories of anyone who didn’t resemble their executives.
When the movie premiered, MJ anticipated that it would get lost to the ether as most do– only for it to take to social media and become a sensation overnight.
Getting to play the type of characters that mattered, to be in stories that meant something– that was what she wanted to do.
This part– the press, the red carpets, the interviews from wanna be fashion consultants– this wasn’t part of the job she felt good at. But it was also so indelibly part of it, MJ knew that she couldn’t skip it.
Standing here now on the red carpet, the flutter of nerves in the pit of her stomach and a nomination hanging over head– MJ just hopes that she doesn’t fuck this part up.
I don’t even know why I’m here , Peter thinks to himself as he sighs– standing on the red carpet and feeling even more ridiculously out of place.
He’s not supposed to be here, at least in his own mind. When Sam had asked a favor of him to check in with the West Coast Avengers, Peter had immediately declined. Spider-Man stayed in New York and there was never a reason– save for intergalactic world ending threats– that he ever needed to leave.
Only for Jameson to get a bug up his ass about the Globe getting into entertainment news and having a moment online, their sales for their budding entertainment writer superseding anything that the Bugle had done in the last quarter.
“Parker, get your ass to California,” Jonah had yelled out, Peter bewildered about the change in direction and even more that he was considered to be the best candidate for this.
“Why me?” He’d even asked, Jameson waving his hands around and yelling something indecipherable about how he was a photographer and was therefore “the one to cause the least amount of damage if this all goes sideways”, something that Peter didn’t understand but also didn’t question from the look that Betty gave him as he did.
“I’ll help you book the flight,” she’d said helpfully but that was about as much as she was willing to do— a hard no on taking his place despite her prowess in understanding pop culture in a way Peter could never hope to replicate.
This isn’t what he’s good at by a long shot and the meeting today with Kate and America had been less than productive, the two of them flirting more than debriefing and Clint’s own exhaustion from some issue with his apartment building causing him to fall asleep halfway through.
Peter’s more than a little agitated and that just makes his feelings of being out of place even worse— holding a mic in his hand and letting the celebrities pass him by as the camera man Jonah had paid for glares at him.
“What?”
“Great for the B roll but you need to start interviewing,” he says— Josh if he remembers correctly— “start asking questions.”
“I don’t even know what to ask?”
“What are they wearing? Who are they with? The weather, fucking anything, man,” Josh says before he readjusts his grip— putting himself back into position as Peter makes a face, looking out at the assembly line of celebrities that are coming down the pipeline.
It’s a circus, not unlike the kind of galas Harry tried to drag him to once upon a time that he categorically avoided then— primped out and on display in a way that reminds him of paper dolls.
May raised him better than to judge people so quickly but he can’t help but think that he has nothing in common with any of these people— any chance of having any kind of conversation being a waste of both of their time.
Well, maybe more of a waste of his since all these people were here as a part of their job.
So am I , he thinks with a grimace— trying to put on a smile as he looks out to the crowd, reminding himself of the bonus Jonah had promised him when he got back.
“Thank you,” MJ as she smiles, cheeks hurting from how much effort she’s putting into keeping her face straight– the possibility of fucking it up ever ringing in the back of her mind.
There are cameras, flashing lights, people everywhere– all the chaos of a set but with none of the intention behind it. MJ tries to keep that as a reminder as she walks down the carpet, mindful not to slip on her dress, that all of this was just a show. None of the interviewees cared about how she was doing or really about the project– they had a job to do and they had thirty seconds to a few minutes to do it, rapid-fire questions about what she’s wearing, the director’s vision, and her own feelings about her nomination all condensed into what she knows will be soundbites that could be translated and mis translated if she’s not careful.
She’s not so unaware that she doesn’t know Queensboro has a rabid following, the attention from online stan culture doing in part some of the work that got critics attention. A viral moment would be something that her publicist would likely murder for, though MJ is a little less reluctant to play into the bit for that.
“I want to be known for my art ,” she’d argued once when Arlo had rolled his eyes.
“Art doesn’t pay the bills.”
He was right but that wasn’t the point, MJ keeping a fixed smile and trying not to feel blinded from the amount of flashing lights and people calling her name– letting the producers and assistants move her forward to the appropriate spaces as she’s led along. If Arlo had his way, she’d only be giving interviews to the select few that were deemed “appropriate” – some kind of list that MJ neither had the time nor the inclination to try and decipher.
She’s looking forward, trying to estimate how much longer she has on the carpet when her eyes spot someone across the way– meeting their eye and seeing the surprised look on their face as MJ stares.
“MJ?” Peter Parker asks, dressed in a suit that doesn’t fit him at all– MJ letting out a sharp laugh as she makes a beeline towards him.
“Peter Parker?” She asks in return, the assistant who had been tugging her along shooting an alarmed look over her shoulder– no doubt signaling Anaya to help keep her in line.
She needs to, she knows she has places to go and people to talk to.
Peter Parker just immediately became one of them.
Holy shit .
“Hi,” Peter says, sounding just as dazed as he knows he is– clearing his throat and standing up straighter as Michelle Jones Watson, stage name Mary Jane walks towards him.
He hasn’t seen her in years, not since the two of them had been back in Midtown– the same year though never quite running in the same circles save for Academic Decathlon. MJ had been quiet and kept to herself and Peter had been in his own world, chasing after the Vulture and Scorpion and dealing with the seemingly never ending problems that plagued New York.
It would’ve been a stretch to say they were close but you had to live under a rock to not have heard of quiet and reclusive MJ moving to Hollywood – Peter watching Queensboro Bridge just like the rest of the world when it started streaming and immediately impressed with her performance.
And really, impressed with her .
“Mary Jane,” he says with great affect, seeing a smirk on his face that he hadn’t ever thought that he’d see again. “You remember me?”
“You– of course, I remember you,” she says with a laugh, bright and smiling and causing his insides to twist because holy shit did he forget how pretty she is. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know, you’re pretty rich and famous now,” Peter says, gaining another laugh out of her as he motions to what he’s wearing. “I’m in a rent a suit and you look like a model.”
“You could’ve done better,” she says, blunt and to the point in a way that he forgot she’d been– Peter snorting as Peter looks back up to her. “I mean, Peter. Really, this doesn’t even fit you.”
“How do you know what’s supposed to fit me?” He asks, sliding easily into conversation with her as if they were old friends. It wasn’t untrue in the sense that they had known each other all those years ago but the instant familiarity he has with her feels different– maybe just a reprieve from the air of annoyance he’d faced from the other celebrities that had walked across the carpet.
Mentally pairing the word celebrity with MJ was a difficult thing to do, he finds.
“Because I can see you, Parker,” she says, clearly checking him out and then motioning towards him– Peter catching out of the corner of his eye Josh panning the camera down and remembering that they’re on camera with all of this, “what even is this?’
“Rent a suit. I told you, do you celebrities just forget anything everyone tells you or…” He playfully serves back to her, MJ pursing her lips as he grins.
“Oh, so I’m just a celebrity now, how? What about you? Are you… interviewing…?”
“Badly, I guess, if you can’t tell,” Peter says, MJ stifling back a laugh as he shrugs. “I don’t know. My boss told me to be here.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that.”
“How do you know that? Are you the interviewer?” He asks, wondering for the briefest moment if he’s crossing a line– it wouldn’t have been the first time that his smart mouth got him in trouble, both in and outside the suit.
MJ gives just as good as she gets as she replies, “I might as well be. I’ve asked you more questions than you’ve asked me.”
“Alright then, what’s your… deal?”
“My deal ?” MJ asks incredulously, laughing as she shakes her head. “Wow, you are bad at this.”
“I’m trying here okay,” Peter explains, playing the bit now as the camera rolls but also finding that he’s having a refreshingly good time all of a sudden. “It’s not the easiest thing in the world, being here in front of all these cameras.”
“Oh poor you,” MJ deadpans, Peter snorting as he smiles at her– something passing between the two of them as they hold each other’s gaze.
It’s as if the world around him has turned to technicolor, the harsh camera lights turning instead into a soft glow and the world around him slowing to a stop as he stares at her– realizing that time is passing at the same moment as he grins.
“Haven’t we established that?” He asks, looking at her meaningfully. “Rent a suit.”
MJ smiles, so much so that it makes him feel lighter in a way he can’t explain– seeing someone walking up to her from behind with a disconcerted look on their face.
“Calvary’s calling.”
“Do you need saving from how terrible of a job you’re doing?”
“Maybe you’re the one who needs saving,” he counters, before making a face. “Not–not in a weird way–”
“What way then?” She asks gleefully, Peter feeling flustered as he shakes his head.
“I– because I’m doing a shit job.”
“So you admit that you’re–”
“You know, it’s been great seeing you, really,” he says, cutting her off and still smiling despite himself– the person coming up from behind and putting a hand to her shoulder.
They nod towards the next person, Peter guessing that his short-lived moment was over with her as she nods to them.
“It was good to see you too,” she says, resting a hand on his arm– genuine despite the teasing that they’d fallen into.
Her hand lingers, Peter nearly feeling like he’d been shocked by a bolt of electricity with it– still feeling the warmth of her hand when she lets go and is led away.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he calls out, mouth working faster than his brain can catch up.
“You first!” She calls out, laughing as she does– Peter looking over his shoulder and seeing the way she smiles back at him.
He grins, laughing to himself before turning back around– Josh still focused in on him for a beat before he brings the camera down.
“What?” He asks, Josh shaking his head.
“What the fuck, man.”
He doesn’t know in what way Josh means it but he doesn’t have to.
He feels it too.
What the fuck? MJ thinks, unable to stop smiling as Anaya leads her away.
“What was that ?” They ask, MJ shaking her head as they lead her towards what she can imagine is a more “suitable” interviewer.
“I don’t know, I– old friend from…” she trails off, knowing Anaya really doesn’t care and not really having the chance to give a good explanation. Her and Peter hadn’t really been friends in school, not nearly enough to warrant the exchange they just had.
Yet it had been easy, simple– the kind of refreshing conversation that she’d had little off throughout the red carpet and with the entire awards season.
“Hi Mary Jane, you look beautiful ,” another host of some sleazy talk show MJ avoids calls out to her, Anaya depositing her in front of them and the camera.
MJ puts the moment and Peter out of her mind and focuses back on her job.
Tries to at least, the smile she give to their camera completely genuine as she says hello.
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@abc24: (2:17pm) omfg does anyone else see the tension. #shipgoals
[Mary Jane Watson and Rent a Suit flirting for 30 seconds straight] [video]
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