~~~
"So you'll fly out on the morning of the 31st to New York, do an interview at noon, then hang out in Times Square for the rest of the evening."
"Mhm," I mumbled, half listening to my manager. She was explaining my schedule for the next few days, but I couldn't keep focused if I tried.
"You'll get to spend the next day in the city, then you'll fly back on the 2nd." A pause, before she clears her throat lightly. "You zoned out on me again, y/n."
"No I didn't," I retort. "Planes, interviews, fun evening, full day of NYC, then planes again."
She stares at me. I knew she was just trying to do her job, but it was easy to be annoyed with me at the moment - I didn't want to spend New Years Eve in probably the most crowded block on earth, nor did I want to fly out and do interviews. Sure, it was necessary to get my name out there, but I'd much rather be at home, drinking tea or reading a book.
She sighs. "Times Square on New Years Eve is where you want to be if you want to get noticed," she explains.
"I know that, and I'm sorry." I respond. "I hate showing up for the sake of showing up though, and crowds suck. It's not like I'll be having any fun."
"Why are you a performer if you hate crowds?" She asks, raising an amused eyebrow.
"There's a difference," I retort again. "At least when I perform, there's a barrier between me and the crowd! Now I'll be trapped with people like everywhere. I'll die out there in the city alone, you m ow my anxiety isn't doing any favors right now."
She chuckles. "I know, kid, I remember. But that's why I spoke to one of my manager friends, Jeff. He's sending out a client of his own that night, you two can go together."
I paused. "Is it a guy?"
She nods, and I scrunch my nose a bit. "Yeah, but with a guy, there are going to be tabloids with hundreds of news headlines in the morning regarding my new 'relationship'. I won't remember his name in the morning, and he wont remember me at all - that's kind of a bummer," I say.
"So I guess it isn't something you want to do?"
"Not really in the mood for a fake, one night only PR boyfriend."
"You're in the mood for a good guy, though, aren't you?" She presses. "Come on, I know Jeff, alright? He deals with good guys. Nothing can go wrong, trust me - there won't be a problem."
I sighed. She was really doing her job - all she wanted was to get my name and face out there, and she was right. This would be one of the best ways to do just that.
"Fine," I murmur softly. "Tell your friend Jeff that it's a go. Who's the guy, anyway?"
"Thomas Brodie-sangster."
I nearly choked. "Wait, what?"
"What?"
"Thomas Sangster?"
"Yeah."
"The Thomas Sangster."
"...yeah?"
"Thomas Sangster as in the one who played the cute blonde guy from the Maze Runner series, and from Game of Thrones."
She rubbed the back of her neck. "I mean, yeah, I guess," she shrugs. "Apparently he wanted to be seen with an up-and-comer."
"I can't...Sangster?" I sputter. "He's known globally and I'm just here, I can't be seen with him, I'm a nobody!"
