Archive of Our Own

The evening was in full swing as Raul and Gwen arrived at the entrance to the Grammy listening party. The energy was palpable, a mix of indie artists, industry insiders, and familiar faces filling the vibrant streets leading to the venue—a historic downtown Los Angeles ballroom. The air was crisp, the sky clear, and the lights twinkled like stars against the backdrop of towering buildings. They walked into the lobby and over to the short velvet carpet to the check-in table, where a neatly dressed staff member scanned their names and smiled.

“Ah, Mr. Ruiz, Ms. Deschamps, welcome,” the attendant greeted them, offering each a discreet black wristband. With a practiced ease, Raul helped Gwen adjust hers, his fingers brushing her wrist as the two shared a private smile.

As they moved further down the carpet, the camera flashes began—first one, then a few more as the photographers realized who had just arrived. A familiar voice called out, “Raul! Over here! Gwen, looking fabulous tonight!” They both paused, instinctively turning toward the flashbulbs as the night captured them in its glittering hold. Raul's easy confidence took over as he gave a charming nod, while Gwen, though a bit more reserved, allowed herself a soft smile as they posed briefly for the cameras.

Once inside, the space opened into a stunning ballroom, its high ceilings draped in elegant fabric and its walls lined with glowing lights and sconces, casting a warm, intimate glow over the crowd. A live DJ spun the latest tunes, though the eclectic mix included some throwbacks that fit the vibe of the night, along with a song they entered to that was—honestly—a little too on the nose: "Famous" by Avi Snow and peers. The air buzzed with conversations, laughter, and the occasional clink of champagne glasses.

Raul placed a hand on the small of Gwen’s back, guiding her through the room, their eyes scanning for familiar faces. It was clear that tonight, they were here to be seen—but also, to quietly navigate a world that both of them knew well, but were now experiencing together.

Stepping into the ballroom with Raul felt at once familiar but also new and different. She'd been in this particular ballroom for exactly this annual event with many of the same faces for over a decade now, but even with all that similarity every year there was still a different energy - different nominees, new musical fusions, new friendships and old to build. She spotted a violinist who'd worked with her on a prior project, and led Raul by the hand over to him—a young gent dressed more like a hip-hop artist in dreads but with lavish jacket details that also had a bespoke Ren Faire vibe.

"Kurson! So great to see you!" She stepped forward to give him a quick and warm hug hello. "I loved your project this year, so sorry it got shifted to Best Instrumental out of New Age. I loved the reverby strings you put on that one. It gave me Paul Schwartz Aria 2 nostalgia. I'd love for you to meet Raul—" she let his hand loose so he could greet Kurson.

Kurson lit up when he saw Gwen approach with Raul in tow. His hand immediately went up in a casual greeting, the sleeve of his embroidered jacket shifting to reveal tattoos snaking down his wrist.

“Gwen! You’re too kind,” he said, before turning his attention to Raul. “Nice to meet you, man.” His handshake was firm, his eyes scanning Raul with a brief curiosity before settling into something more welcoming. “Any friend of Gwen’s…”

Raul returned the handshake smoothly. “Pleasure, Kurson. Gwen made me a playlist of people we might see tonight to listen to on the drive-over, and yours was right at the top. I’ve heard great things. ”

Kurson chuckled, his eyes flicking between them. “All lies, I’m sure. Though I’ll take the Aria 2 comparison any day—Paul Schwartz is a legend.”

As they exchanged a few more pleasantries, the DJ shifted tracks, and the distinct opening of “Lady in Red” began to flitter through the ballroom, catching Gwen’s ear. The familiar melody instantly softened the vibe, and the crowd began to sway to the rhythm.

Raul leaned closer to Gwen, catching her eye. “Dance?” His voice was low, a playful glint in his eyes, as if he knew the moment was meant for them.

She tried not to roll her eyes that—of course—this song began to play just moments after they'd walked in the door. If she didn't know better she'd almost think someone had put them up to it somehow. But how could she say no to a dance with this man, that face, gleaming the way he was?

"Of course—but it's on you if you make me melt before we've even gotten the night started, smooth talker." She pulled up the hem of her dress a bit in her hand to make walking toward the dance floor a little easier, letting the long dress back down once they arrived. She pivoted to him and took a semi-formal stance to be proper—resting one hand on his shoulder, the other overlapping his other arm in a studious sort of ballroom stance, as if he was really going to waltz to this. But on the other hand, she really didn't know his skill level - though she had to surmise since he'd done many a musical, he was good and ready.

Raul’s grin widened as she teased him, and his hand found its way to the small of her back as they made their way toward the dance floor. The soft melody of "Lady in Red" filled the space, and a subtle spotlight shifted toward the center, capturing the growing number of couples who were swaying to the slow rhythm.

As they reached the floor, he took her lead at first, chuckling under his breath as she adopted the semi-formal ballroom stance, as if testing him. He wasn’t about to disappoint.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” he whispered with a hint of mischief. Then, with practiced ease, Raul smoothly transitioned her into a more relaxed hold, pulling her just a little closer, his movements steady and assured. His left hand gently cupped her hand, while his right rested confidently on her waist, guiding her in an effortless sway. It was clear that while Raul could hold his own in a ballroom, he wasn’t overly formal tonight—this was about them, not the show.

As they moved, he leaned in, his voice soft against her ear. “You’re not melting on me yet, are you? I’ve got a lot more planned for the night.”

Gwen felt the warmth of his breath as he spoke, and as much as she wanted to maintain her composed front, there was no denying that Raul’s presence—his ease, his charm—was having its effect on her. The slow tempo gave them a moment of peace in the midst of the buzz, but Gwen’s eyes caught sight of a photographer hovering on the edge of the dance floor, angling for a shot. Instinctively, she leaned closer into Raul, her head near his chest as if to shield the moment from the outside world.

She giggled against his chest, leaning into his sway, appreciating his proximity. "Not to be too Modern English, but I would absolutely 'stop the world and melt with you'." She looked him in the eye, so tempted to kiss him again here and now, but also so mindful of their environment and the newness of it all, not wanting to overwhelm in this crowd that was more 'her people' than his perhaps, but simultaneously proud to be on his arm—in his arms—lost in the music.

Raul’s laughter was soft but genuine as he caught her reference, his grip tightening just a bit as they swayed. “Oh, you’re making it hard to resist,” he murmured, the smile not quite leaving his lips as he gazed back at her. His dark eyes flickered with that same unspoken temptation, but like Gwen, he held back, knowing the moment didn’t need to be rushed.

The music wrapped around them, a cocoon that separated them from the rest of the bustling crowd. For a moment, it was just them, her subtle scent mixed with the atmosphere, the dim lights casting soft shadows on their faces. Raul's thumb brushed lightly against her back as if wordlessly assuring her they were perfectly in sync. He understood the pride she took in her world, her people, and he was more than happy to be in it—by her side, even if only for tonight.

“You know, if we weren’t in the middle of a crowd,” he said, his voice low, almost conspiratorial, “I’d say we’d already stopped the world, just for us.” There was a pause, a shared moment of connection, as if both could feel the tension of what was unspoken between them—an almost-kiss hanging in the air.

But then he shifted, just enough to refocus her attention on their surroundings without breaking the intimacy. “I’ve got to say, though,” he continued with a hint of playfulness, “you’re turning heads. You’re amazing out here.”

"Mmmm," she grouched. "I already just want to get you back home and out of these clothes. But you're making being in this crowd easier. Much more tolerable than if I'd come alone."

She let him swing her away and out, then curl her back into his arms, pretending that they were just any two rhythmically gifted and swooning dancers on the dance floor, taken with each other and the music, not a care in the world about anything else going on around them.

Raul’s grin turned into something more wickedly playful at her words, the spark between them only growing. “Trust me,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “the feeling’s mutual. But since we’ve got all night…” He let the sentence trail off, giving her one last spin that ended with her firmly back in his arms. For a brief moment, it was as if they really were just another couple lost in the rhythm, far removed from their respective worlds.

She leaned near his ear so he could hear her above the crowd and the music to ask, '"Is there anyone here you’d like to meet? Not a lot of film or TV directors on your side of the fence, perhaps, but there may be atteendees who touch your part of the industry. I know one of the guys here often releases Broadway albums, some of them original cast recordings but not always. And there are a good number of composers and game music ethereal songwriters, some sort of anthemic new age rockers who might appreciate making your acquaintance. Might take some of the heat off of me."

As she curled back into his embrace, Raul listened thoughtfully to her offer, his brow arching slightly. “You’re too kind, trying to play matchmaker in the middle of all this,” he said with a laugh. He glanced around the ballroom, clearly considering who might be worth connecting with. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to meet a few people in the Broadway or gaming scene. You never know. Maybe there’s someone here who could lead to something unexpected.”

His gaze softened, and he tilted his head just slightly. “But don’t think you’re getting out of the spotlight that easily. You’re not getting off the hook with just one slow dance.” He gave her a gentle nudge as if challenging her to face the rest of the party with the same grace she always had, now with him at her side.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added with a wink, “And let’s be real—any heat on you is just them recognizing your brilliance. I’ll deflect if you need it, but I have a feeling you’ve got this.”

As the song wound down and the two of them slowed to a near standstill, a bright, cheerful voice chimed in from just beside them. Gwen and Raul turned to see a colorfully dressed couple making their way toward them, the woman sporting a flowing, patchwork dress in vibrant hues of yellow and teal, while the man wore a quirky blazer covered in hand-drawn doodles and cartoonish designs. Both radiated warmth, the kind of energy that made it impossible not to smile in their presence.

“You two!” the woman exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with genuine delight. “You dance like you’ve been together for years! My husband and I were just watching, and we had to come over and say hello.” She linked arms with the man beside her, who grinned and nodded in agreement. “We’re celebrating our twentieth anniversary tonight,” she added, her pride unmistakable. “It’s a big night for us.”

Raul, ever the charmer, smiled warmly and offered a nod. “Congratulations! That’s amazing,” he said, his arm still comfortably around Gwen’s waist. He glanced at her, then back to the couple. “You two look like a lot of fun.”

The man chuckled, giving his wife a playful squeeze. “We try to be. And hey, we were curious—how long have you two been together? You’ve got that easy, natural connection. Reminds us of when we first met.”

Gwen felt Raul's hand tighten gently around her waist as he looked at her, his expression soft but unreadable. The question hung in the air for a moment, a perfectly casual inquiry, yet somehow loaded with the weight of how new everything between them still was. He smiled, his voice smooth as ever.

“This year,” he said, giving just enough information without elaborating too much. “It feels like a lot longer, though, doesn’t it?” He winked at Gwen, the private joke between them easing the moment.

The woman clapped her hands together. “Well, I’d say you’re off to a great start! You’ve got the spark. We’ve been together so long, and I think that’s what keeps it fresh, always finding new ways to enjoy each other.”

The couple beamed at them, their joy infectious, and Gwen could feel the eyes of a few other guests drifting their way as if drawn by the lively exchange.

Gwen tried to stifle a laugh but adored that Raul was just rolling with the punches, not letting on too much or too little. She was so proud of him that she didn't mind if others around them concocted or construed ideas that they'd been together for much longer—it kind of spoke to how obvious it was that they were connecting so well, that it was undeniable even to others that hadn't seen them together before.

Gwen couldn’t help but grin, feeling the warmth of pride swelling in her chest as Raul navigated the moment so seamlessly. The way he played along, neither giving too much nor too little, only deepened the growing connection between them. She could feel the eyes of the couple, and perhaps a few others nearby, watching them with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

“Well, thank you for saying so,” she finally added, flashing the couple a smile. “We’re still finding our rhythm, but it feels like we’ve been dancing together for much longer.” Her eyes flickered toward Raul, the words carrying a deeper meaning that only he would catch.

The couple exchanged a knowing look, clearly charmed. “That’s how it starts,” the woman said, her voice warm. “Before you know it, it’ll be twenty years, and you’ll wonder how the time flew by.”

Raul gave Gwen a little nudge, chuckling softly. “Careful, or they’ll have us married off before the night’s over.”

Gwen rolled her eyes playfully but squeezed his hand in response, her heart full. As the conversation lulled, the other woman leaned in slightly. “It’s lovely to meet couples like you two at these events. Sometimes, the music world can feel so fast-paced, it’s easy to forget about the connections that really matter.”

Before they could respond, the man added, “Well, we won’t keep you too long—just wanted to say keep dancing like that. It’s inspiring.” He winked, and with that, the couple waved and melted back into the crowd.

Gwen and Raul stood there for a moment, the echoes of the conversation still lingering in the air. The night, the music, the swirling crowd—it all seemed to fade into the background as Gwen took a deep breath, still firmly planted in Raul’s arms.

Over his shoulder, Gwen spotted a pianist she knew—someone whose career she'd long followed, a dear friend. "Oh you have to meet Matthew, he's one of my nearest and dearest. He and I had a few rough years during Covid where we were really trying to champion each other’s new projects when some new policies at the Academy were just really hampering the collaborative spirit. Do you know we used to be able to post on our socials when we sent each other our music to review for award consideration, to highlight each other’s work the way we would with any good friend? But we're not allowed to anymore during Grammy season, unless we personally appear on the project." She shook her head, finding the hurdle tedious and unkind.

"In spite, many of us have been collaborating with each other more than usual just so we can still publicly talk about each other’s work. It's such nonsense bureaucracy." She took him by the hand and slowly navigated through the growing crowd to where Matthew stood by himself, wearing a Newsie type hat and enjoying a plate of hors d'oeuvres. "Hey Matthew. Do they have those lamb samosas again this year?"

Matthew looked up from his plate with a grin as soon as Gwen’s familiar voice reached him. He tipped his Newsie cap with a playful flourish and opened his arms for a quick hug. “Gwen! It’s been way too long.” His eyes twinkled as he looked her over, then nodded approvingly. “And you’re glowing tonight, clearly making the rounds.”

When Gwen mentioned the lamb samosas, Matthew raised his plate and laughed. “You know it! They’re just as good as ever. I was about to grab a second round.” His smile broadened as he turned his attention to Raul. “And who’s this?”

“Raul,” Gwen said, squeezing Raul’s hand as they stood beside Matthew. “I’ve been wanting to introduce you two. He’s as familiar with late-night creative sessions as we are.”

Matthew extended his hand, giving Raul an appraising but friendly look. “Anyone Gwen vouches for is good in my book. Nice to meet you.”

Raul shook his hand, his demeanor casual but warm. “Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you—seems like you’ve been in the trenches together more than a few times.”

Matthew chuckled. “Oh, don’t even get me started on those late nights. We’ve both survived the grind of a dozen unfinished projects and red tape.” He shook his head with a mix of exasperation and fondness. “What Gwen said about Grammy season—it’s true. It’s frustrating how much more difficult it’s become to champion each other’s work. But we’ve found ways to get creative with it.”

He paused, glancing between them, clearly curious about how close they seemed. “So, Raul, are you in the music world too, or are you just lucky enough to be swept up into Gwen’s whirlwind tonight?”

Raul smiled at Matthew’s question, giving Gwen a small nod before jumping in. “I’ve got my roots in stage and screen—mostly TV these days. But tonight’s a little different. I’m used to premieres where everyone’s asking about the next season of the show, so this… this feels nice. A chance to just enjoy the night without the spotlight on me as much.”

Matthew grinned, clearly intrigued. “I can imagine. Must be a bit of a relief to fly under the radar, huh?”

Raul nodded, his hand gently resting on Gwen’s back as he spoke. “Exactly. Plus, it’s a different world here. I’ve been learning more about the music industry through Gwen, and it’s been eye-opening.”

He paused, as if considering his next words carefully, then glanced between Gwen and Matthew. “She’s had a bit of a run-in with the Academy this year over some, let’s say, tech-related issues. Ethical AI, specifically. I’m still getting my head around it all, but from what I’ve seen, it’s been a frustrating hurdle for her.”

Matthew’s expression shifted, curiosity mixing with a hint of concern. “Yeah? I’ve heard rumblings about AI being a hot topic, but I didn’t know you were caught up in that, Gwen.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “I mean, I’ve seen how much of your work is cutting-edge, but I didn’t realize it was causing that kind of trouble.”

Raul chimed in again, his voice steady. “Yeah, it seems like there’s a lot of misunderstanding around it. But she’s handling it like a pro. I was curious—have you two collaborated on anything recently? I’d love to hear about what you’ve worked on together.”

"Matthew and I worked on some lyricless soundtrack-styled stuff remotely. It's amazing how much we can do without being in the same room these days, but it's nice when we are in the same space to be able to say our 'how do you do's, too."

Matthew nodded thoughtfully as Gwen spoke, clearly appreciating the balance of remote collaboration and in-person connection. “Yeah, I love that about the way we work now—makes it so much easier to experiment with new ideas even when we’re not in the same room. But nothing beats catching up face-to-face.”

He then turned his attention back to Raul, narrowing his eyes in thought, his expression shifting as a realization struck him. “Wait a minute… I know I’ve seen you before. Was it Chicago Med? Or maybe Chicago Fire? One of those big procedurals, right?” He gave Raul a curious look, trying to place him.

Raul laughed softly, clearly amused by the recognition. “You’re close! I had a guest spot on Chicago P.D., so maybe that’s what you’re thinking of. But most people recognize me from Civitas, the legal drama I’ve been on for a few seasons.”

Matthew snapped his fingers, his face lighting up. “That’s it! Civitas—I knew I’d seen your face before. You’ve got that presence, man. Makes sense that you’d be used to the red carpet and all the attention.”

Raul smiled, shaking his head. “It’s part of the job, I guess. But I’m enjoying a night where the focus is more on music and less on me for a change.”

Matthew chuckled, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Well, you’re in good company here. A lot of us are just as happy to blend into the background when we can.”

Gwen gleamed at Matthew. "You can see why I keep him around. We're birds of a feather. I gravitate to all the introverts on the indie side of the Academy the most. Oooh, speaking of which, I think I see my producer by the door. So good to see you, Matthew."

Matthew grinned warmly at Gwen's words, clearly touched by her affection for both him and Raul. “It makes perfect sense. You’ve always had an eye for good company,” he replied with a wink. He glanced toward the door where Gwen's producer stood, nodding in acknowledgment. “Go work your magic, Gwen. It was great meeting you, Raul—take good care of her tonight.”

Raul smiled, offering a small salute. “You’ve got my word.”

With that, Matthew gave Gwen a quick hug goodbye, then turned back to his plate of hors d’oeuvres as Gwen and Raul began weaving through the growing crowd toward the door. Raul leaned down slightly, his voice low so only she could hear. “Looks like the night’s just getting started. Ready for more socializing?”

"Well, this one's easy peasy. Ricardo and I have worked together for ages. People sometimes ask me how long ago I met him and I honestly don't even remember. It seems like we've always been in each other's sphere. When we're taking a break in the studio we talk politics, music— he always keeps me in the loop on trends and which parts of the industry are dying out. So helpful, ensures I keep a good view of where I need to focus my energies next, you'll love him."

As they passed by an hors d'oeuvres tray, she snagged a few veggie samosas for them both, along with some ginger ale she made sure to ask wasn't champagne before she grabbed a glass, and kept the waiter still long enough for Raul to do the same if he wanted before they reached Ricardo, who it appeared had just spotted them with some interest from across the floor.

As Gwen and Raul approached, Ricardo’s face lit up with recognition. His sharp eyes gleamed with interest as he waved them over, already grinning. Dressed in a sleek, fitted jacket and his usual stylishly understated manner, Ricardo looked every bit the industry veteran who could predict the next big trend with casual ease.

“Gwen! And Raul, right?” Ricardo greeted them, his handshake firm and welcoming. “I’ve seen your face a few times—Civitas fan over here,” he added with a nod to Raul, a smile playing on his lips. “But I’ve got to say, it’s Gwen’s work that keeps me busy.”

Gwen chuckled, nudging Raul with her elbow playfully as she handed him one of the veggie samosas she had snagged. “See? He’s already got your number.”

Ricardo laughed, crossing his arms with an air of familiarity. “So, how’s the night treating you both? Gwen, you’re doing your usual thing, I see—flitting around and making your connections. And Raul,” he glanced between them, “I’ve got to say, you two make quite the pair on the dance floor.”

Raul, ever the smooth talker, returned the smile. “Thanks, Ricardo. I’ve been doing my best to keep up with her tonight. She’s got more energy than I expected.”

Ricardo chuckled, clearly amused. “That’s Gwen for you—always a step ahead of everyone.” Then, with a more serious tone, he asked, “So what’s on your radar for next year, Gwen? Are we sticking to the plan, or are you feeling any of those bugs I’ve been putting in your ear?”

"Yes yes, I'm seriously considering your idea for a 'best of' project. It's just so tough to curate the tracklist. Some of those older tunes I've let fall off the streaming platforms for a reason—but I know you're right, the fans love it. I just don't know how much time it would take us to maybe remaster them a bit like you said and give them a new life."

She drank down some of the ginger ale and beamed a little at Raul, pleased to see how well he was blending in and at ease amongst her favorite people in this crowd. "Raul, I also just have to draw your attention to Ricardo’s amazing sneakers that he always wears to these events, glow in the dark." She nodded down to his footwear. "Makes him easy to find when the lights are low and I have to admit, I love how it kind of turns his nose up to the people inclined to overdress." She looked down at her own stylish Fluevogs, "Even if—technically—I'm one of them."

Ricardo chuckled at Gwen’s comments about his sneakers, clearly pleased that she appreciated his rebellious fashion statement. “Hey, someone’s got to keep things interesting,” he said with a grin, lifting one foot slightly to show off the glowing soles. “Besides, they’re a conversation starter at these stuffy events.”

Raul leaned in, taking in the sneakers with an amused look. “I love it. Glow-in-the-dark kicks at a formal event? That’s the kind of energy I can get behind.” He gestured down at Gwen’s Fluevogs. “And, for the record, I think you’re pulling off the overdressed look just fine.”

Gwen smirked, giving a mock curtsy in her Fluevogs. “Oh, stop, you two. But seriously, Ricardo,” she continued, “you’re right about the fans. I’m just a perfectionist about the whole ‘best of’ thing. If we’re going to bring some of those old tracks back, I want them to be the best versions they can be.”

Ricardo nodded, his expression more thoughtful now. “I get it. But you know I wouldn’t steer you wrong. We could remaster them, polish things up—it wouldn’t take as long as you think. And you know your fans would eat it up. It’s just about finding that balance between honoring the original sound and bringing it up to today’s quality.”

Raul, listening intently, chimed in, “I’m no expert in music production, but that sounds like a great way to bridge your past work with where you’re at now. Plus, it might give some of your newer listeners a reason to dive deeper into your older catalog.”

Gwen liked the idea of revisiting her old work with a fresh perspective, and felt encouraged hearing both Raul and Ricardo on board. It seemed like it could be an organic next step, next project. It could also help her lay a little low while the Academy figured out whether it was ready to enter the new era of music technology or not. 

She shifted gears. "You know, Ricardo, Raul isn't just a pretty face. I've recently learned he's quite a singer himself. I'd toot his horn about some nominations he's received but I don't know how much he wants to blush in present company. But if any project ever arose that may enable you two to work together, I think you'd get along fabulously. Raul has a very similar work ethic to mine, we've already enjoyed some private collaborations." She gave Raul a wink along with the encouragement to share as little or as much as he felt comfortable in present company.

Ricardo raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise, glancing between Gwen and Raul with newfound curiosity. “Oh, really? Now you’ve piqued my interest.” He smiled at Raul, clearly intrigued. “I had no idea you were musically inclined. Seems like Gwen’s been holding out on me.”

Raul chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that rare moment of self-consciousness. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m ready to headline any music festivals, but yeah, I’ve dabbled in some musical theater projects over the years that let me stretch those vocal cords, and I’ve done a little studio work.” He didn't bother mentioning the Tony nominations for now, happy to just let Ricardo make of his interest and talents what he would, all the more knowing this was someone who was a regular part of Gwen's world, so there was no rush—there might be studio sessions or dinners and events like this in the future where they could get to know each other—and their talents—better.

Ricardo crossed his arms, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s still pretty impressive. Theater experience and studio work? You’re selling yourself short, man. I’d love to hear what you’ve been working on.”

Raul gave a humble shrug, but there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. “Music’s always been something I enjoy, but acting’s where most of my focus has been.”

Ricardo smirked, clearly liking the sound of this. “Well, if the opportunity ever comes up, I wouldn’t mind seeing what you’ve got. You know I’m always looking for unique voices to collaborate with.”

Gwen, catching Raul’s glance, smiled encouragingly. She knew he wasn’t the type to seek out the limelight in music, but the idea of him stepping into her world even further—especially with someone like Ricardo—felt like an exciting possibility.

"Well, I won't hold you up showing off your glowy sneaks to the rest of the crowd, but it's always good to catch up with you. No matter what I'll circle back to you about finishing the master on that next dance track, deal?" She gave Ricardo a warm hug, elated to get these two introduced. Now Raul really felt like he was cemented in her world.

Ricardo hugged Gwen back with a grin, giving Raul a playful salute as he stepped back into the crowd. “Deal! And don’t be a stranger, Gwen. I’ll be ready when you are,” he said, flashing his glowing sneakers before disappearing into the mix of people.

As they watched him go, Raul leaned in, speaking softly so only Gwen could hear. “Well, that went well. You’ve got quite the circle here—it’s no wonder you’re so at home in this scene.” He gave her a gentle squeeze, his smile full of admiration. “I’ve got to say, I’m liking how I fit into your world. And, not gonna lie, I’m tempted to get a pair of those sneakers myself.”

She rolled in laughter and gave in to the need to give him a pop kiss for that admission. "You know, I think you'd wear them well. And I *dare* you to wear them for some outtakes under the legal bench on Civitas. That would make for such great BTS footage."

Raul laughed, clearly enjoying the playful energy between them. “I might just take you up on that dare,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Can you imagine the look on the crew’s faces if I strolled in with glowing sneakers under the bench? That would definitely make some history.”

She took his hand and stood close, taking a breather from the crowd. "I'm so glad you got to meet Ricardo, he usually stops in midway through these things. I think he has even less of a stomach for it than I do; we're both always seeking out the real types and sometimes—in these crowds—those are hard to come by. But he's kind of like a brother to me. It's hard to explain."

As she mentioned Ricardo, he nodded thoughtfully. “I get it. There’s something about those kinds of people who feel like family, even when they aren’t. I can see why he’s in your inner circle.”

She glanced around to see where they should go next. "Do you want any playful pics at the step and repeat in the corner? These shots are sent privately to party guests, not sent to Getty and AP. They're just for us." She gave him a bit of a wicked grin.

His grin matched hers. “Oh, you’re on. How could I resist?” He took her hand, guiding her toward the corner with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

She followed his lead to the pic and mix corner, full of random props like stick mustaches and feather boas to outfit everyone's attire even more. She guffawed as she spotted a tiara and dared to snag it and put it on his head before he could protest. "Hmmm, maybe this for you and a bowtie or mustache for me? What goes with my outfit? Or do you want the boa?"

Raul blinked in surprise as the tiara landed on his head, and then burst out laughing, his expression a mix of amusement and mock horror. “Oh, I see how it is,” he said, adjusting the tiara to sit perfectly crooked on his head. “Royal treatment for me, huh? You’ve got nerve, Deschamps.”

He pretended to consider the options, eyeing the bowtie and mustache for her outfit, then reaching for the feather boa with a dramatic flourish. “I think the boa is definitely more my speed. But the mustache for you? Absolutely. Let’s lean into the chaos.”

He draped the boa over his shoulders, striking an exaggerated regal pose with the tiara still perched on his head. “Okay, let’s do this. Ready to make some ridiculous memories?”

She was all laughter and nearly doubling over by the time their turn came up. She lured him into the photo frame and used the boa around his neck like a necktie to tug him closer, biting her lip as she inched closer to him, whispering in his ear, "I mean, I have to stand this close or I won't be in the frame, right?" She leaned into him so much she might have knocked him over if his feet weren't firmly on the floor.

Raul, barely containing his laughter as Gwen tugged him closer with the boa, leaned into the moment, playing along with her theatrics. “You’re right,” he whispered back, his voice full of mock seriousness. “It’s all about logistics. We wouldn’t want to mess up the frame.” His hands instinctively wrapped around her waist to steady them both as she leaned in.

The photographer snapped the first few shots, catching their playful tug-of-war, while the props only made the scene more hilariously absurd. Raul, now fully embracing the ridiculousness, gave a faux-pouty face with his tiara still perched proudly on his head.

With her so close, Raul couldn’t resist whispering again, “If I fall, I’m taking you with me.”

"Don't tempt me, just make sure I fall on top of you if we do tip over," she teased.

"Now pretend to do a stuffy family portrait, losing all the props you two," the photographer egged them on.

"Game on, how do you want me to pose?" she said to Raul low and sultry. "This one is for you to carry in your wallet later."

Raul, still grinning from ear to ear, met Gwen’s sultry question with a playful raise of his eyebrow. “Oh, so it’s like that, huh?” he murmured back, his voice dropping to match her teasing tone. “Alright, how about something classic? You stand here, and I’ll act like we’re at prom.”

With a dramatic flair, he straightened up and dropped the props, placing one arm stiffly around Gwen’s shoulder as if he were posing for a formal dance. He gave the camera a stern, comically serious look, lips pursed as if he were the most proper person in the room.

“Perfect wallet material, don’t you think?” he whispered to Gwen, giving her a wink before the photographer snapped another round of shots.

She rolled her eyes. "This has JCPenney all over it. Fine fine. One more then, whatever shot you want for your dressing room mirror on set." She looked him over, loosening the button on his jacket. "And maybe lose the blazer for this one, Columbo."

Raul chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement as Gwen loosened his jacket. “Columbo, huh? I like that,” he said, shrugging off the blazer and tossing it aside dramatically. “Alright, you want a dressing room shot? Let’s make it count.”

He stood for a moment, thinking, then flashed a devilish grin. “How about this—I’ll give you the ‘serious actor brooding between takes’ look. Very moody, very dramatic.”

With that, he pulled Gwen into his side, his arm around her waist, and leaned his forehead against hers, closing his eyes in an almost exaggerated moment of intensity. “Look like we’re having a deep, private conversation,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. “This’ll be one for the mirror.”

The photographer snapped away as Raul played up the dramatic effect, though a hint of a smile still tugged at the corner of his lips, betraying how much fun he was having.

Gwen gave a cliffhanger surprised and swooning look, the kind any actress on a TV show wears before the commercial break when some momentous plot point has just been revealed. "I love your energy," she confided.

As the photos wound down and they made way for the next set of party attendees to step in and have their fun, Gwen spotted her old bandmate across the room. She whispered to Raul, sotto voce, "My old drummer Inigo is here. I didn't realize he'd be attending."

Raul couldn't not lean into that name. "Inigo—like Montoya? Did he 'kill your father?' Is he 'prepared to die?'"

Gwen half-rolled her eyes at the Princess Bride reference. "Something like that. Don't feel like you have to put your jacket back on if you don't want to—it's getting hot in here, so many more people arrived I think."

Raul chuckled at her reaction to the Princess Bride reference, clearly enjoying himself. “Well, if he does show up with a sword, I’m ready for it,” he teased, giving her a wink. He slung the jacket over his shoulder instead of putting it back on, taking her hint that the room had grown warmer as more people arrived.

“Lead the way, if you want to say hi,” he added, gesturing toward Inigo across the room. “I’m curious to meet the man behind the legendary name.”

As they began weaving through the crowd toward Inigo, Raul leaned closer to Gwen. “You sure it’s a good idea to cross paths with someone who sounds like they might have a revenge plot?”

She chuckled softly between them. "Well, last time I checked, I don't have six fingers on one hand." Getting in front of things, Gwen called out to him over the music. "Inigo!" and sent a friendly wave to match.

Inigo turned at the sound of his name, a wide grin breaking across his face as he spotted Gwen and waved back. His casual, laid-back style, with his hair tied back and his drummer’s aura still intact, immediately brought back memories of their time on stage together.

“Gwen!” he called out, weaving through the crowd with ease. “It’s been too long!”

As Inigo approached, he gave Gwen a quick hug before nodding to Raul, his eyes flicking curiously between them. “And who’s this?” Inigo asked with a smile, extending a hand to Raul.

Raul returned the handshake, smirking slightly as he offered, “Raul, nice to meet you. And yes, I’ve already made all the Princess Bride jokes.”

Inigo laughed, shaking his head. “I bet you have. They follow me everywhere.” He turned back to Gwen, giving her a more serious look. “It’s really good to see you. I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.”

"Yeah, I didn't realize you'd joined the Academy. I mean, I know you don't strictly have to be a member to join us for the listening parties, but most of the crew here tends to be. Honestly, I thought you were still out of town—in Paris or Colorado or something? I see your email updates sometimes about the drum circles, but they always seem to come at a time I don't have a minute to open them. Sorry to be out of the loop."

Inigo grinned and waved off Gwen’s apology. “No worries at all. I’ve been bouncing around a bit—Paris for a couple of months, then Colorado to do some studio work with a few indie artists. But yeah, I joined the Academy last year. Figured it was time to dip my toes back into the scene and see what’s happening on this side of the world again.”

He glanced around the room, taking in the lively atmosphere. “I didn’t think I’d see so many familiar faces tonight. It’s good to reconnect.” His eyes flicked back to Gwen, his smile softening. “But you know, I always follow your work, even when I’m out of the loop myself. It’s been amazing to see where you’ve gone.”

Raul, sensing the shared history, stayed quiet for a moment before chiming in, “Drum circles in Paris and Colorado sounds like quite the adventure. You’re keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.”

Inigo chuckled, nodding. “You have to. Keeps the creative energy flowing, you know?”

Eyeing Raul and clocking his memory of their discussion about her prior bandmembers, she watched him react to this unexpected interlude. On one hand she wanted to be open about who Raul was to her, not least to set him at ease to make sure he knew his importance in the presence of her former lover. On the other hand, she didn't want Inigo to think she had something to prove or was trying to make him jealous or such. Bygones were bygones, it was a different era then.

She tried to find some middle ground, trying to think of what they had in common. "Raul is also a bit of a poet, like us. He's a gifted visual artist too. Inigo has taught some art classes for youngsters."

Inigo raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “A poet and a visual artist? That’s quite the combination,” he said, nodding at Raul with newfound appreciation. “It’s always great to meet someone who’s got a hand in multiple creative worlds. Teaching kids is fun, too—keeps you on your toes and reminds you not to take everything so seriously.”

Raul smiled, visibly relaxing at Gwen’s smooth navigation of the situation. “Thanks, man. Yeah, I dabble in a few things, but teaching… that takes a special kind of patience. I have a lot of respect for that.”

Inigo chuckled. “Patience, yeah. Sometimes it’s like herding cats, but there’s something about seeing a kid discover their creativity for the first time. Makes it worth it.”

Gwen could feel the tension between the past and present easing, the mutual respect between the two men making the moment feel lighter. Whatever complicated history there had been between her and Inigo was safely in the past, and Raul’s place in her life now was clear, without her needing to spell it out.

Gwen nodded over to a gentleman in the corner. "While you're here, Inigo, you may want to say hello to Bryan Davis. I don't know if you know his work, but he specializes in epic video game soundtracks. He might really appreciate your background in organic drums if you still play and can record remotely sometimes. I remember you used to do some beats for me from home."

Inigo’s eyes followed Gwen’s nod toward Bryan Davis, and a spark of interest lit up his face. “Bryan Davis, huh? I know his work, definitely. I love those grand, cinematic scores. And yeah, I still play and record from home. I’d be up for something like that.”

He turned to Gwen with a grateful smile. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll head over and introduce myself in a bit. You always were good at connecting the dots for me.”

He gave Raul a nod. “It was great meeting you, man. Maybe we’ll cross paths again.”

Raul returned the nod, smiling. “Likewise. Good luck with Bryan.”

With a final smile to both of them, Inigo slipped through the crowd toward Bryan, leaving Gwen and Raul standing together once again, the energy between them comfortable and calm.

Raul spotted a familiar face across the room and leaned closer to Gwen. “Hey, see that guy over there?”

Gwen followed his gaze. “Who's he?”

“That’s Marco Bellini, the TV director. We worked together on a project a few years back. He’s really into music—he might even know your work. Let’s go say hi,” Raul suggested, leading Gwen toward Marco.

As they approached, Raul greeted him warmly. “Marco! It’s great to see you again. I’d like you to meet Gwen.”

Marco extended a hand, smiling. “Pleasure to meet you, Gwen! Raul, you always keep good company. I’ve heard your name in industry circles, especially after your recent release. Your music has a way of telling stories.”

“Thanks, Marco, it’s so nice to meet you,” Gwen responded warmly, shaking his hand. “Raul has told me good things about you. I confess, I don’t think I’m familiar with your work yet, but I’d love to hear more about what you’re working on.”

“I’m currently working on a drama series,” Marco explained. “We’re looking for a blend of moody and evocative music—something that underscores the emotional complexity of the characters without overpowering the scenes. I think your style might be a perfect fit. Have you ever considered composing for television?”

Gwen tilted her head thoughtfully. “You know, I have at times. I’ve certainly had a few placements in film and TV, especially lately. I recently had one of my songs placed in a Lifetime film, of all things. But I haven’t done straight-up score composing in a while. I do like playing instrumental music, though. What kind of genre or vibe are you going for in this project?”

Marco nodded enthusiastically. “Lifetime placements have a certain charm, don’t they? For this series, we want something that’s moody, something ethereal. Music that sets the stage without being too distracting, where the audience can bring their own emotions to it while it enhances the scene. I think you could be a great fit.”

Gwen smiled. “I’m happy to discuss the details. And if it’s not quite a fit for me, I’m always happy to put someone else on your radar. But I do prefer that simpler, less intrusive sound where people can bring their own story into it. So maybe I could be a good fit for this project.”

Marco’s grin widened. “That sounds like exactly what we’re looking for, Gwen. I love the idea of music that sets the stage without overwhelming the narrative. Let’s find some time to chat more about this. I’ll have my assistant reach out to schedule something. Looking forward to it!”

“Lovely to meet you, Marco,” Gwen said as they exchanged parting pleasantries and she handed over a card. “I’m excited to discuss this more.”

As they stepped away, Gwen leaned in closer to Raul, whispering, “Wow, I honestly didn’t anticipate bumping into someone you knew here. I know our worlds do overlap, but sometimes music can be so isolating from the rest of the entertainment industry. Not a lot of people assume musicians have the capability to flex into scoring or composing for TV, so thank you for the introduction. I really appreciate it.”

Raul squeezed Gwen’s hand and whispered back, “I’m glad it worked out. You impressed him like I knew you would. This could be a great opportunity for you to branch out even more.”

Gwen grinned. “Well, you never know. There are ways to find creativity between spaces in the industry. If I ever come across an opportunity that suits you, I’d love to pass it along. Between you and me, who are some of your favorite directors or theater companies that I could connect you with?”

Raul smiled warmly, appreciating her offer. “I’ve always admired the work of Alejandro González Iñárritu, and I’m a big fan of the Steppenwolf Theatre in Chicago. Their dedication to storytelling is incredible. If you ever come across any connections, I’d be thrilled to explore them. How about you? Any dream collaborators?”

“Well,” Gwen replied thoughtfully, “I’ve always wanted to work with Peter Cetera, but I don’t know how realistic that is these days. He’s not as young as he used to be, but I’d love to do a duet or a power ballad with him. But interesting you mention Iñárritu—I saw him at a Q&A in Hollywood years ago for his movie Beautiful. Someone asked him why his villains were LGBTQIA+ and his answer was brilliant. He basically said, ‘Why wouldn’t they be? Villains can be anyone. Just like in real life, there’s diversity in good and evil.’ It made me think about whether I’m giving the same depth to my characters—even in my songs. It’s a reminder that characters, no matter who they are, can be flawed or different than us.”

Raul nodded, clearly intrigued. “That’s a fascinating perspective. Iñárritu’s response speaks to the complexity of storytelling. Interesting how his approach influenced your reflections on character development. It’s true—every character, whether in a song or a screenplay, deserves that depth and nuance.”

Gwen smiled softly. “I will say that going to Q&As like that makes you think about those added details that you don’t always have time to sit with. In fact, I don’t think I told you—I recently had the chance to watch a SAG-AFTRA Q&A with Mariska Hargitay, and she had some really interesting things to say about how she approaches her character, especially after playing her for over two decades. She talked about what she’s learned from her time on set, working with her comrades and how they play off each other. One of the things she said really stuck with me: she’s trying not to get buried in the constant influx of new projects, lines, and scenes, but instead to stay grounded and present in the moment. To not always be future-minded, but to stay here, now.”

Gwen took a breath, her words flowing with thoughtfulness. “It sounds so simple, but for perfectionists like us, I think it’s a good reminder to take time to appreciate where we are, to smell the roses, drink the coffee—or tea—and enjoy things, like that Lady Grey you made or the ginger lemonade, without constantly thinking about how to improve or what’s next. To relish the moment instead of always striving to build on it. She also mentioned she auditioned about nine times for the role of Monica in Friends, but didn't make the cut. There was a sort of unspoken gratitude that it didn't work out, otherwise, she would have been on that show for their 10-year run and missed out on getting cast in her current show that she's been on for over 25 years."

Raul smiled, nodding with understanding. “It is easy to get caught up in the drive for perfection and what’s next, especially in our industry. I’ve been guilty of that myself—always chasing the next project. Sometimes I wonder if I let myself enjoy the moments enough—those little moments, like enjoying a cup of Lady Grey or listening to a beautiful piece of music, that remind us why we fell in love with our craft in the first place. It’s a balance I’m still learning too, and who you have by your side makes it all the more meaningful."

He gave her a knowing glance. "Timing has a way of bringing people together when they’re truly ready. If we had met earlier, who knows if we would’ve appreciated what we have now. Everything that’s happened has led us here.”

Gwen smiled, resting her hand against his cheek. “I feel like I’ve been keeping you all to myself, though. Should we meet more people? Who do you want to meet?”

Raul chuckled. “Alright, let’s be bold. How about the game music composer? Did you say Harrison was here earlier? Let’s go make an introduction.”

Gwen nodded with a grin. “I’ve followed his work online for years but never introduced myself. Do you have the energy to find a way to introduce us?”

"Sure, I’ll take the lead on this one,” Raul said confidently. “You know, he might just be more excited to meet you.”

They walked across the room toward Harrison, and Raul extended a hand. “Harrison? I’m Raul, and this is Gwen. I love your work and thought we’d come over to say hello.”

Gwen glanced over at Raul, loving him a little for claiming it was him who was itching to meet Harrison, a guy he may know very little about himself. Excellent wingman move.

Harrison smiled, shaking both their hands. “It’s great to meet you both. Gwen, I think we might be friends on Facebook or Instagram or something, I’m sure I’ve seen your name in my feed. And I’ve certainly heard some of the music in your catalog. Always nice to put a real face to the name.”

Gwen smiled warmly. “I’m certainly a big fan of your work. Are you nominated this year?”

Harrison shook his head. “Not this year, but I’m here to support some friends performing live later, and soak in the atmosphere.”

Gwen nodded in agreement. “I’ve found that everyone is surprisingly welcoming and down-to-earth in this crew.”

Harrison chuckled. “That’s one of the things I love about these events. You get to meet like-minded people. So, what are you both working on at the moment?”

She gleamed, feeling like this question was coming at just the right time after talking with Ricardo. “I was actually just talking to my producer about possibly revamping a best-of project, and to be honest, I can't quite decide if that should just be hands-off and putting everything in a curated album tracklist and calling it a day, or if it might include doing something like “Taylor's Version” where I kind of restructure and maybe do an acoustic or epic take with beats that use some of my fan favorites in a new way. My producer has been pressing me to do it for a while. And actually, I don't know what Raul has on his plate right now. I think there was a new script you got recently, but I don't know if you can talk about it yet.”

Raul was all charisma, totally in his element. "Yep, it's a drama series exploring the complexities of family dynamics and redemption. I can't share too much just yet, but the character I'll be playing has a really challenging arc that I'm looking forward to diving into. It's one of those roles that really pushes you as an actor, which is exactly what I crave.”

Harrison drank down the last of his champagne, handing the glass to a waiter passing by with an empty tray. He sighed, “Well it sounds like you two have a busy end of the year ahead of you. I’m hoping to take some downtime myself, if I’m honest. It’s been nonstop, and with all the videogame layoffs lately and game studios shuttering, something tells me I may need to downshift and prepare for a little hibernation until the interactive SAG-AFTRA strikes are over.”

“Oh right, such a crazy time for you right now on your side of the industry. Well—after you go to Disneyland or take a deserved cruise or whatever that downtime looks like for you, reach out if you’d like to collaborate on a side of the industry one of us may touch. We have to stick together while the industry reconfigures itself. Music and TV realms have obviously been hard hit these last few years too. None of us are really getting a reprieve.” Gwen said with as much understanding and compassion as she could fit into an otherwise noisy and jovial environment without feeling like she was dragging the mood down.

“Truth.” Raul agreed. “Nothing is certain right now. A bit of limbo for all of us.”

“Legit,” Marco concurred. He raised his glass, “Here’s a toast to more work for all of us sooner rather than later. ‘Survive to ‘25’, right?” he said. “Ah, you don’t have a glass, should I snag one for you from one of the passing waiters?” Marco asked, his tipsiness just beginning to show.

Raul slipped his hand into Gwen’s squeezing it, ready for a bit of rescue. “You know, we were actually about to say a few goodbyes and exit. But it’s so refreshing to meet you, Marco. Thanks for taking the time to let us bend your ear.”

“Absolutely, have a great night. Maybe see you at the next event.”

They pivoted away and Raul took a deep cleansing breath.

“Sorry, the longer we stay in this crowd the more we may run into that. We've said hello to the chosen few. We've had at least one slow dance, we've had a little food. What do you need, hon? Are you hungry? I want tonight to be rewarding for you too." She sauntered a little closer to him, unafraid to stake her claim. She laid a gentle kiss on his lips, unafraid for anyone in attendance to know they were there 'together'—not merely as social plus-ones to look good on camera together and provoke clickbait later. 

Raul smiled against her lips, clearly appreciating the moment and how she made their presence as a couple known. When she pulled back, his hand slid to the small of her back, keeping her close. “I’m good for now. Honestly, I’ve been having a great time just being here with you, meeting your people.”  

"If you are worn out and want to jet, I'm fine to leave anytime," she offered. "—or there are a few other areas of the hotel I've discovered over the years too. This hotel was around in the Golden era of Hollywood, lots of little nooks and crannies with ghosts from yesteryear."

He glanced around the room, then back at her, his smile widening as she mentioned the hidden corners of the hotel.

“Ghosts from yesteryear, huh?” he teased, his eyes lighting up with intrigue. “You’ve got me curious now. I think a little tour sounds perfect. Lead the way, and maybe we’ll bump into one of those Hollywood legends.”

He gently tugged her closer for another quick kiss, clearly ready to follow wherever she led.

She reveled in his own comfort level to initiate in this company, glad that he could be himself, grateful that she wasn't constantly having to spend energy to set him at ease the way she'd sometimes had to with prior plus ones. She treasured this about him. It made her want to show him off even more, but simultaneously keep him all to herself in hidden corridors.

So she tugged him back out of the ballroom, past those arriving late and streaming their way across the media red carpet. She ducked away from those photographers, inching up the hem of her dress again to walk more freely, now away from the larger crowds.

She gestured past the bar, down a hallway. "Down this way they have photos of some of the first dinners held here with black and white film royalty. To be honest, I only know the more enduring names, but if you're worth your IMDb Pro salt—and I know you are—you'd probably recognize many more of those 100-year-old actress names than I would, but one, in particular, I'd wager you definitely know."

She pulled him down the long empty hallway, save for those enlarged historical stills, clearly taken back in the days of film rather than pixels, the photos grainy and imperfect but also full of nostalgia, even if you couldn't fully recognize all the faces. "It's just around this corner, past the bathrooms." She walked him down the hall, hand in hand, finally stopping in front of a black and white headshot of the Black Dahlia.

Raul’s steps slowed as they approached the photo, his eyes narrowing in recognition. “The Black Dahlia,” he murmured, his tone shifting slightly as he took in the haunting image. The grainy headshot of Elizabeth Short stared back at them, the mystery and tragedy of her unsolved murder lingering like an invisible shadow in the air.

He let out a low whistle, gently squeezing Gwen’s hand as he stood there, taking it all in. “I didn’t know this was here,” he said, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the history demanded a certain reverence. “It’s eerie, seeing her like this. All the old Hollywood glamour mixed with... everything else.”

Gwen’s presence next to him was a steady comfort, and Raul looked over at her with a soft smile. “You’ve definitely got a thing for these hidden spots, don’t you? It’s like you’ve found the soul of the place.”

He glanced back at the photo, then leaned closer to her, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I like it. Feels like we’re in on something no one else knows.”

She gave him a warm hug, giggling. "I know, right? So many people at the party have no idea they're standing in the hotel where she was last seen before her body was found. At least they put up this photo so we can remember her properly instead of the gory crime scene photos. Kind of makes you think if she'd just stayed for one more dance with a handsome man, maybe she'd have avoided her fate. What a career she could have had if she hadn't been stymied by people with ill intentions." She took a deep breath, looking in the eyes of Elizabeth's photo. "A fate the rest of us in the industry try our best to avoid. We can't let the industry suck the life out of us."

Raul held Gwen close as she spoke, his gaze shifting from the photo back to her, taking in the gravity of her words. The image of Elizabeth Short, a symbol of unfulfilled potential and a cautionary tale, seemed to linger in the air between them. He nodded slowly, his hand resting gently on her back as he gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “The industry can be brutal if you let it. But you’re not letting it define you. I see the way you navigate through it—you’re still you, no matter what’s going on around you. That’s what sets you apart.”

He leaned back slightly, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. “We won’t let it suck the life out of us. We’re here for more than that.”

His fingers intertwined with hers again as they stood there, a small, intimate bubble of calm in the long, empty hallway. Raul glanced once more at the photo, then back at Gwen. “Want to keep exploring? Or... maybe take a breather somewhere quieter?” His voice held a gentle suggestion, giving her the option to lead the way once again.

Her grin widened, feeling seen and hearing that gentle tone from him again, lighting up at the way his fingers tied themselves up with hers. "Are you suggesting I take you home, sir? Or do you want to see the old fashion mosaic tile pool, or the grand ballroom with all its fancy balconies and chandeliers? Sometimes they leave a door open that lets you sneak in—" she said, tantalizingly, licking his lips while she had him away from the crowds.

Raul’s grin matched hers as he raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her playful tone. “Now that sounds like an offer I can’t refuse,” he teased, his voice low and warm. “But sneaking into a grand ballroom… that sounds pretty irresistible, too.”

He leaned closer, his fingers tightening around hers just a bit, as if anchoring the moment between them. “Lead the way, then. I’m all yours—whether it’s the ballroom or... somewhere a little more private.”

His words were charged with the same tantalizing energy she’d brought into the conversation, and his gaze never wavered from hers, clearly ready to follow wherever she wanted to take him next.

"Your willingness to play along makes you such a great sport. One more stop then, then I promise I'll take you home and you can keep me to yourself."

She walked them back around the corner then, past a janitor and just outside a main ballroom, then she parked them next to an exit door. Waiting.

"What are we doing here?" he asked, curious.

"Just follow my lead and be patient. It won't take long. Pretend you're having fun with me. I know that's hard," she gave him a wink.

Raul chuckled, his curiosity piqued as he leaned against the wall beside her, his arm casually draped around her shoulders. “Pretend I’m having fun, huh?” he teased, giving her a playful nudge. “I think I can manage that, but I’ll try not to give too much away.”

He glanced around, pretending to play it cool, though his eyes kept flicking back to her with a mix of intrigue and amusement. “Alright, lead conspirator,” he said softly, “what’s the plan? Do we wait for a secret signal? A janitor’s cart to pass by? Or are you about to make a grand entrance somewhere?”

His tone was light, but the anticipation was real. Whatever Gwen had in store, Raul was more than ready to follow her lead.

Just then, a waiter exited the door just behind Gwen with another tray of hors d'oeuvres. She let him pass, but before the door he'd exited was fully shut, she shifted and stuck her Fluevog in the way of it closing.

"Follow me." She led him down the hall just a ways and up a lavishly carpeted staircase, winding around until they arrived at the right vantage point—an arched balcony overlooking the empty grand ballroom, save for some tables mostly lacking their linens, the party elsewhere for the night—the chandeliers no less resplendent. "Like what you see?"

Raul stepped onto the balcony with Gwen, taking in the grandeur of the ballroom below. The empty space, the shimmering chandeliers, and the quiet elegance of it all gave the moment an almost dreamlike quality. He let out a low whistle, clearly impressed.

“Like what I see?” he echoed, his voice soft. “I’d say that’s an understatement.” He turned to face her, his eyes shining with appreciation for the private, intimate moment she had created. “This is incredible. You always know how to find the best places.”

His hand slipped around her waist, pulling her close as he glanced between her and the view below. “But I’ve got to say, the view right here,” he murmured, locking eyes with her, “is even better.”

"Then let's lock it in so we always remember this moment," she challenged.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and loaded Isla June and A.O. Gerber's soft and haunting version of Dancing in the Moonlight, hitting play - not too loud for the waitstaff down the hall to hear it and come find them, just loud enough for both of them to hear as she slipped it back into her pocket, speaker facing out for their benefit. As the reverb-filled string plucking began, she pulled him close, welcoming him into her space, into her sphere. Maybe they were indoors, but they were anything but hemmed in.

Unbeknownst to her, a waiter who'd served them hors d'oeuvres at the party earlier spotted them together, and without much fuss, slowly dimmed the lights and turned on the chandeliers while their eyes were closed, holding each other close, intertwined as she held his hand during their sway. When she noticed the dim she opened her eyes and—spotting the helpful waiter—gave him a small nod of thanks and acknowledgment, grateful that he seemed to see they weren't causing any trouble.

Raul smiled softly as the music filled the air, letting himself melt into the moment with Gwen. The quiet strumming of the strings and the soft echo of the vocals created a perfect soundtrack for their private dance. His arm tightened around her as they swayed, matching her gentle movements, lost in the atmosphere she had conjured.

With the chandeliers dimming and glowing like stars above them, the whole room seemed to transform, as if the universe was giving them a quiet nod of approval. Raul’s fingers laced through hers as they danced, his forehead resting gently against hers. “This… I’ll remember this,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet reverence. “You always know how to make something unforgettable.”

The world outside seemed to disappear, and for that moment, it was just them—together, under the shimmering light, dancing like no one else existed.

"Stick with me, kid. I'll always help you find the quiet party away from the louder party. Even if we have to create it ourselves." She looked in Raul's eyes, connecting with him that way they always seemed to instinctively, without even really having to try, but wanting to try nonetheless.

Raul met Gwen’s gaze with the same intensity and warmth, feeling that familiar, effortless connection between them. It was like everything around them—the grand ballroom, the chandeliers, even the music—faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in their own quiet universe.

“I like our party better,” he whispered with a soft smile, his thumb brushing lightly against her hand as they stood close. “You always make these moments feel like they’re ours alone.”

He leaned in slightly, his forehead gently resting against hers again, their breathing synchronized as they held onto the quiet space they’d created together.

She soaked in his nearness, enthralled in him. Even dressed like this, it felt like it was just natural. Effortless. Maybe Lizzie had done her the favor of her life by pairing them up at the party previously. That already felt like a lifetime ago. She knew it couldn't always be this perfect, suspended in this timeless bubble where nothing could touch them. But for now, it was.

She whispered to him, "Take me back to your place. Let's get out of these formal clothes—and make us even more formal, official," she urged.

Raul’s eyes softened at her words, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. There was something magnetic about how natural it all felt, as if the two of them had been building toward this moment for far longer than they actually had. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his voice low and steady.

“Let’s go,” he whispered back, the promise in his tone unmistakable.

With one last look around the shimmering, empty ballroom, he guided Gwen back down the winding staircase, their pace unhurried, savoring every last second of their private escape. And as they made their way past the fading lights of the party and back into the real world, Raul’s hand never left hers, a quiet but powerful signal that the next part of their night—whatever it held—was just beginning.

During the car ride back to his place, while he drove mostly quietly, she watched the wind through the open window ruffle his hair—romancing him just as much as she was, enveloping him. She ran her fingers through his hair a bit, not wanting to necessarily draw him out of the thoughts he seemed lost in—she wanted to give him room to decompress.

They'd pollinated all night, and he hadn't had to say his escape/safe word 'Pepperoni' once, though she wouldn't have minded if he had—she would have absconded with him in a second. But he held his own, letting her do whatever she needed or wanted to do in that industry setting, softening the blow of business niceties and nonsense, saving breathing room for her no matter who approached. It was a difficult balance you couldn't teach someone to have, they had to have it naturally, and it happened more readily sometimes in her artistic peers like Raul—someone who had faced those heavy beaming spotlights before himself and knew the magic of them but also the weight and heat of them, the intrinsic intrusion that was necessary to share your art.

Raul’s quiet presence behind the wheel felt like the perfect end to their night, the hum of the road and the gentle, refreshing wind through the open window acting as a calm backdrop. He didn’t need to say much—his silence was its own kind of comfort, a sign that he was decompressing in his own way. As Gwen’s fingers gently tangled in his hair, he glanced over at her briefly, a soft smile tugging at his lips, before turning his attention back to the road.

The weight of the evening seemed to fall away, replaced by the simplicity of the moment—the two of them, side by side, a quiet understanding between them. He hadn’t had to perform or put on a show, even though the industry spotlight was ever-present. And in that, Gwen felt even closer to him, as though they’d shared more than just a night at a party—they’d shared a deeper connection that words didn’t quite capture.

Raul gave her hand a soft squeeze, still focused on the drive, but the gesture said everything she needed to hear: he was with her, in every sense.

As they got back through his front door, she slipped out of her shoes, a soft moan of relief escaping her, unsure how she'd managed to stay in them and on her feet all night with nary a moment to really sit down, though she was sure Raul would have happily given her the reprieve if she'd asked. But those parties were always designed in spaces laid out with standing tables to encourage comingling, with the few seating areas being predominately owned by those who required them due to age or injury.

Here back in the respite of his place, she could let her body admit its weariness. But even spent from the event, he still had her full focus. "You want me to pour you some of that ginger lemonade? Anything you need before we relax? Assuming you'd like me to stay... " she said with a tantalizing tone, laying a kiss against his lips to coax any remaining energy out of him. "If I've worn you out after travel, flight, staying up half the night to write scenes, I'd understand. Or if you want to maximize the time we have in the same zip code—" she ran her hands down and around his waist "—I'm down for that too."

Raul smiled as she kissed him, leaning into the warmth of her touch, clearly savoring the closeness now that they were alone. He watched as she slipped out of her shoes, seeing the relief on her face, and it made him appreciate the way she carried herself all night even more.

He shook his head softly. “You’re always looking out for me,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But trust me, I’ve still got enough energy to keep up with you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, the weight of the night slowly melting away. “I’ll take that ginger lemonade, though,” he added with a wink, “but only if you promise to relax with me after.”

His hands traced her waist as he kissed her again, slower this time, a promise lingering in his touch. “I want you to stay. We’ll maximize all the time we’ve got.”

"You're on," she said, happily accepting the invitation and challenge. With hesitation she slipped away long enough to pull out some fresh tumblers, retrieving his lemonade and ginger juice concoction from the fridge and pouring each of them a rejuvenating glass.

She took a cleansing breath, glad to be away from the throb of the DJ's music, classic though his playlist was. She handed Raul the glass, letting him drink it down before she approached him again, wanting to make sure he stayed hydrated.

Raul took the glass with a grateful smile, taking a slow sip of the ginger lemonade. “This is perfect,” he said, his voice a little more relaxed now, the weight of the night fully melting away with each drink. He watched her as she approached him again, appreciating the calm, quiet energy they’d settled into after such a long night.

Setting his empty glass down on the nearby counter, he reached out for her, his hands finding her waist once more. “You always know how to take care of me,” he murmured softly, pulling her close. The space around them felt serene, a perfect contrast to the loud, buzzing party they had left behind. His forehead rested gently against hers as he let out a contented sigh.

“Now,” he whispered, “I think it’s time we properly relax.”

His arms wrapped tighter around her, and the world outside seemed to disappear as he leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss.

She "mmmmeedd" into his kiss, grateful he was making this time for her. Her eyes closed, learning tightly against him. She blindly felt for the counter edge behind herself to set down her own glass, not willing to disrupt the moment by opening her eyes and pulling away.

Once the glass was safely out of her hands, she shifted her hands to the buttons of his shirt, enjoying the lavish slowness of his kiss as she undid each button, letting her touch hover just above his skin. She tilted his jacket off his shoulders, thankfully in just close enough proximity to catch it and hang it on a coat hook so he wouldn't have to have it pressed later - the surest way to have more time together including reducing wasteful menial tasks later.

With his jacket off and his shirt undone, she laid a kiss gently against the pulse points of his neck, nestling into the curve of his shoulder. If she'd been a vampire, she'd be in prime real estate—but she wanted to give him life, not steal it away. She leaned into him, letting him appreciate exactly how that red dress sat on her frame, letting his arms encircle her, steadily backing him up through the doorframe to the bedroom.

Raul let out a quiet breath as her kisses trailed along his neck, his hands instinctively finding her waist, tracing the curves of her red dress with reverence. The warmth of her body against his, the way she moved with such care and intention, only deepened his connection to the moment.

As she guided him slowly toward the bedroom, his steps followed hers in perfect sync, their movements fluid and unhurried. He could feel the weight of the night lifting entirely, replaced by something much deeper, more intimate. The world outside the door seemed like a distant memory as they crossed the threshold together.

Raul’s fingers traced the fabric of her dress, his eyes locked on hers, full of affection and something unspoken but clear in its intensity. “You’re everything,” he whispered softly, the words carrying all the weight and meaning they both knew without needing more explanation.

He kissed her again, slower this time, with the kind of tenderness that spoke volumes, as if trying to make the moment last forever.

Gwen was enamored with his every connective touch, the scent of him, every existing and forming memory. She glanced at the bed, where earlier in the day they'd both taken turns pulling on a pant leg or hosiery. She remembered that soothing nap, how at ease she felt in his space— how she knew that she could rest and Raul would completely respect her mood and energy, that nothing would progress into anything else until the time was right and she was ready. That he was content just to let them share that space—with hope they'd be more, but satisfaction that they were building things slowly. Even if on paper, by the calendar days, to anyone else this would all look lightning fast.

"This year," Raul had told them when they asked how long they'd been together. She was pleased that his accurate answer had intimated that it had been so much longer, more in line with how it felt. Working in the entertainment industry meant always having to go to a new venue, a new studio, a new location—often just along for the ride—and it was so hard to fit meaningful and sustainable relationships into that nonstop mold. Unless the other individual, the other half, also knew what that lifestyle was like—that it was what was required to get the work done, to maintain that high caliber. But when free time arrived, if you leaped into it and embraced it, it was your apple to eat.

She was grateful that she and Raul seemed to be so clearly on the same page. Healing from their not-so-distant relationships, yes. But also unafraid to keep trying, to find the better match that made more sense, that was what would make the investment of time make sense.

She leaned against the door frame herself, eager for more but also suddenly realizing—"You know, I never really asked you about your priors. Anyone on set that you've had something ongoing with or how you met your last guy. I never want to force your hand or pressure you—but at the same time, I should ask. I do want to know. Maybe this doesn't precisely seem like the right time, but I absolutely own that I was caught up in the whirlwind of your kiss and just—" she closed her eyes and breathed him in, "relishing having the time with you we could find. Sorry if my timing seems off."

Raul paused, his hand still resting lightly on Gwen’s waist as her question hung in the air. He could feel the depth of her words, and though the timing might have seemed unexpected, there was something grounding in her desire to know more about him—not just in the moment, but in the larger scope of who he was, where he came from.

He gave her a gentle smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I think... it’s a good time to talk about it.”

He stepped back a little, creating a bit of space between them so he could meet her gaze fully, his expression thoughtful but open. “There was someone on set a while ago,” he began, his voice steady but reflective. “It wasn’t anything long-term, just one of those things where you’re working together closely and... well, lines blur. But we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere beyond that project.”

He let out a small sigh, then continued. “As for my last real relationship... we met in New York, through mutuals. He wasn’t in the industry, which I thought might be a good thing at first. But the more I traveled for work, the more it became clear that our lives were on different paths. We tried, but it just didn’t hold together.”

Raul gave a small, understanding shrug. “Timing and lifestyle, I guess. It wasn’t anything dramatic—just drifted apart. And now...” He looked at her with a soft smile, his thumb tracing her hand. “Now it feels different with you. Like we’re building something that makes sense.”

He stepped closer again, his voice gentle but sure. “But if you ever want to talk more about it—or anything—just ask. I’m all in, Gwen.”

Despite herself, she giggled.

"All in Gwen. Sort of sounds like an odd nickname." She thought on it a moment, taking the open door he'd given. "And I may as well also specify that though I'm bi I consider myself homoromantic and heteroerotic. In my view being bi/pan doesn't have to mean that all things are equal, especially not the way that those purely in the straight and not heteroflex camp imagine— that if you're bi you're kind of open to anyone or anything without discretion or preference. In my experience, it's actually the other way around—we're so picky we need a larger pool to choose from."

She chuckled to herself. "And somewhere in there there's a question for you about how you lean, but if it's not something you can really define or feel comfortable sharing this early in our connection, I absolutely support you not feeling that you have to say or share anything in particular. I... I guess I'd just like to know how to support you, and... maybe even better equip myself to lean into those preferences—in or out of the bedroom. Not to make myself something I'm not to suit you, but to know how to take care of you, how to cultivate this new thing."

She laughed quietly to herself. "I also find that those of us who are bi really like to take our time and connect verbally and mentally. A lot more of us all fall in the demi camp, in my anecdotal experience anyway. Your mileage may vary."

To underscore that this really wasn't the verbal interrogation she worried he may read it as, she kissed him again, giving him room not to feel forced to speak, tracing circles on his back—pulling herself back into his proximity, making sure he knew there was no lack of interest—that it was just the opposite, she wanted that interest seated in context and understanding what he enjoyed so she could give it to him to the best of her ability.

Raul listened quietly as Gwen spoke, his expression soft but thoughtful as he took in her words. He could feel how much care and intention she was putting into this conversation, and it only made him appreciate her more. When she kissed him, pulling him closer, the gentle circles she traced on his back reassured him that this wasn’t about pressure—it was about connection, about understanding.

He smiled into the kiss, letting it linger before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “I appreciate you being so open with me,” he said softly, his voice warm. “And I get it—what you’re saying about being bi and having preferences. It makes a lot of sense.”

He took a small breath, his hand still resting on her waist as he continued. “I’ve never been great at labeling myself, but if I had to, I’d say I lean more pansexual. I’m more about who the person is than anything else. It’s always been about the connection for me—who they are, how we vibe.”

His thumb traced small circles against her side, matching the rhythm she’d been making on his back. “And I’m with you on that mental, verbal connection. I need that, too. I think that’s why this feels... different. Because we’re not rushing it, but we’re still building something real. And you’ve made me feel comfortable sharing that.”

He gave her a quiet smile, his eyes full of warmth. “So, yeah. I’m here for whatever pace you want, whatever we need to do to keep this growing.”

She leaned her head back against the doorframe, "Your understanding and being so articulate just makes me want you more." She leaned her forehead against his, trying to decide if this night should crescendo in the shower (washing off the makeup and the hair oil and sharing that space with him at the same time would be a delight), the bed (she already knew from the nap earlier in the day how well they nestled together in that space), or any other number of surfaces and spots in the apartment.

"And I honestly can't decide where to begin with you. I want all the parallel universes at once. I want to take my time with you," she ran her fingers down his spine, "and at the same time, I want to rush in and get that first time under the belt. And I know I can't have it both ways. I can try to tease you and please you at the same time—and believe me I'll do more than try—" she pulled him flush against her. "But more than any of that want—and the want is definitely there—I just want to cherish you. And part of me really worries what that looks like when the honeymoon phase ends." She took a sip from his lips, still wanting to maintain that connection. "And that doesn't mean I'm backing away. Just the opposite. I just really want to do this the right way."

Raul listened to her words, feeling the depth of her emotions as she shared her thoughts so openly. Her honesty only deepened his affection for her, and as she pressed against him, her hands trailing down his spine, he couldn’t help but smile at the intensity between them.

He kissed her softly, savoring the moment before pulling back just enough to meet her gaze again. “I feel the same way,” he said, his voice low but filled with sincerity. “There’s no rush—we have time, and I want to cherish every part of this with you. However it unfolds.” His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin with care.

“I don’t know what things will look like when the honeymoon phase ends either,” he continued, “but I know that what we’re building feels real, and that’s what matters to me. We’ll figure it out together, at our own pace.”

He kissed her again, slower this time, letting the moment stretch as he held her close. “And for the record,” he added with a teasing smile, “wherever we begin, it’ll be the right place.”

"Then let's start with this—something simple." She turned around pulling her long hair to the side, "Help me get this zipper started so I can step into the other room and get a shower going. Once I've had a chance to wash away the day for a few minutes, you can join me, at whatever pace you want."

Raul smiled as Gwen turned around, gently pulling her hair to the side. His hands moved to the zipper, slowly easing it down with careful attention. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder as the zipper came undone, his touch warm and tender. “Take your time,” he whispered, his voice gentle but filled with affection.

As she stepped away and disappeared into the bathroom, Raul stood there for a moment, savoring the quiet intimacy they had just shared. He took a deep breath, glancing around the room where they had already made memories earlier in the day. The bed, the room—everything felt familiar now, not just a place but a space they’d begun to share together.

He settled on the edge of the bed, his thoughts turning over the night, the connection they had been building so naturally. There was no pressure, just the quiet understanding between them that they were both in this, fully, at their own pace. The sound of the water running in the bathroom was soothing, and after a few moments, Raul stood up, ready to follow her lead.

As he made his way toward the bathroom, he felt a sense of calm wash over him. Whatever came next, they were stepping into it together. He quietly pushed the door closed behind him, the soft click signaling the transition to something new.