Chapter 1

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Dean Winchester's the Hugh Hefner type. Wine, women, song. He doesn't want the party to end.

Or so the media thinks.

Really, right now, sitting in the corner of his own backyard and hoping no one will notice him, all he wants is for this party to end. Unfortunately, his agent wouldn't be too happy with him if he kicked everyone out — and certainly not before midnight, because what celebrity party ends before the sun rises again?

Besides, everyone else seems to be having a good time. His girlfriend, Jo, is laughing with her group of girlfriends — her 'squad,' as the media likes to call them. The paparazzo that "snuck in" is taking a metric fuckton of pictures of them, which he'll doubtlessly sell for thousands of dollars, at the least. And the publicity that it will bring for her before her new movie drops in a couple weeks will make their agents even more, which is doubtlessly why they hired the guy to "crash" the party.

Dean doesn't really care, though. They're millionaires. They don't need the money. Jo's savings don't mean much to him, anyway — not just because he's made his fair share of money from his four studio albums and three world tours, but because they're never getting married. Their relationship was for publicity and publicity alone, and in a couple weeks, he and Jo will break up, and she'll start dating her co star instead.

Truth be told, Dean would much rather be playing another sold out stadium tour than at his girlfriend's party. He's not even sure why he has to be here, honestly. He and Jo got a few candids together, after she got some pictures with her co stars but before the ones with her girl gang. His work here should be finished.

He has to admit, he's a little confused when he sees Jo's on-screen love interest heading his way. Dean carefully avoids his gaze. He really doesn't want to talk to anyone tonight, and definitely not the guy he's about to give up his pseudo girlfriend for. Publicity stungs fucking suck, man. Honestly, he just wants to take a nap. Jet lag is a bitch.

Unfortunately, Castiel Novak doesn't feel the same way, because he walks right up to him. "Hey."

Dean gives him a half assed smile. "Hi."

"Having fun yet?" Castiel asks, though he obviously knows Dean isn't.

"Mm." Dean takes a sip of his beer. "Great party."

"You know," Castiel says, "you have one more of those, you're probably gonna pass out."

"Just sounds like a bonus to me."

Castiel chuckles. "Mind if I sit?"

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be mingling with the cast or something? Isn't that how this usually goes?"

Castiel shrugs. "Probably, but they seem to be having a fantastic time without me. Don't want to ruin their party."

Dean chuckles drily. "Tell me about it."

Castiel gestures to the chair across from him with the nod of his head. "May I?"

"Be my guest."

Castiel takes a seat, casually crossing his legs. "I can't help but notice how you haven't moved in an hour. How do you do it?"

Dean holds up his phone, which he's been hiding in his lap until he felt the vibrations. "I've been sneaking a text every now and then."

"Mm, and who's the lucky lady?"

Dean chuckles softly. "Just my brother. Can't hit on anyone 'til Jo and I 'break up.'"

"Ooh, tragic," Castiel jokes. "You know, I didn't even know you had a brother."

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