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“Did you even wash that?”
Aphelios shrugs as he pulls the hoodie and beanie on for the twenty-third day out in a row. It probably got washed at some point since it doesn't smell like the soup broth that he spilled on it the other day... he just doesn't know when that point might've been exactly. It's fine.
Ezreal fidgets, waiting impatiently for him to pull his sneakers on, flitting like an over-caffeinated hummingbird. It's exhausting to watch – but this whole day is probably going to be exhausting. They're doing some... thing. He's not really sure what – a promotional photoshoot maybe? Something with pictures – he just has to go there, look like himself in front of whatever he needs to be in front of, and go home again.
Easy enough.
Except, as he remembers halfway there, he's going to this thing with the world's biggest paparazzi magnet.
“Oooh, look alive.” Ezreal nudges him in the ribs with a grin as they climb out of the taxi they took to wherever it is they are. “Gotta sparkle for the fans.”
Aphelios does not sparkle. He is not and has never been a sparkler. Alune is the one between them that might be considered shimmering, but that's because she shares Ezreal's love for obnoxious eye shadow. Occasionally he can be convinced to shine... but this is not one of those times.
He peels himself from the backseat and shuffles along the sidewalk behind Ezreal's best attempts at recreating a catwalk, mask firmly in place and beanie tugged low.
And, just like the last dozen times he's been out in public, it works like a charm.
“Again?” one of the paps groans as Aphelios catches up to Ezreal and gets in the shot, lowering his camera to scowl at them. “Really?”
Aphelios doesn't offer him even a crumb of acknowledgment, though he's sure the petty glee can be read in his eyes.
“Ezreal! Over here!” Another of them yells, trying to angle to get Aphelios out of the frame. “C'mon, give us a twirl.”
Ezreal laughs and offers half a wave instead, blissfully ignorant to the way Aphelios makes sure he's staying in stride enough to ruin any angle they might try to catch.
“They don't look happy to see you,” he mutters to Aphelios with the shadow of a frown creeping on his face, “that's pretty rude – just because you don't sing doesn't mean you're not important!”
Ah, sweet Ezreal.
He offers him a shrug and a crinkle of his eyes over the mask, bumping elbows before tilting his head toward the double doors of the building where they'll be taking photos.
The shoot itself doesn't take too long – most of the time is spent painting him up and stripping him down in some sort of flowy fantasy getup with horns... Ezreal is, of course, a glittery fairy. Apparently it's some cosplay for some sort of video game or whatever. Contractual obligations are annoying, but at least it's better than Sett's cameo with the humane society – he's not quite sure how that 'adopt a pup today' ad with him and Ernest got approved.
At least it's easy to take off, and they get to keep the outfits. Ezreal stuffs the wings in a bag but opts to keep the bodysuit on with some flimsy excuse about the zipper being hard to reach. Aphelios is sure Kayn will be happy to reach it for him when they get home, and hopes he gets his headphones on before they get to it.
He, of course, slips back into his hoodie and beanie, mask firmly in place as they trudge-and-skip through the lobby and back to their waiting taxi.
A different set of paps are also waiting when they leave the building, and it warms his heart when they let out a collective groan at the sight of them.
“Wha- that's just rude!” Ezreal hisses, frowning at the row of paps as they pack their cameras back up. “You're just as good of a- … well... almost as good of a subject as I am!”
Aphelios only shrugs at him again and tosses an arm around his shoulders before his small but ferocious friend can stomp over there and cause mayhem without him there to ruin the incentive to capture the moment.
Still, Ezreal fumes all the way home, scrolling through social media and tapping out a furious defense of the honor that he has decided has been stained. Aphelios watches as he goes to add pictures to the post singing his praises, cracking a grin as Ezreal's brows furrow deeper and deeper the further he gets into his camera roll.
He looks from his phone to Aphelios and back again. Searches his name on social media, then on the internet in general. Squints at him again, realization dawning along with the horror of a man who needed two closets.
“You wear that every single time on purpose?!”
Aphelios winks at him and pulls the beanie lower.