Chapter 6

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"Ready?" Jo asks, sounding impossibly more excited now than she did when she first saw her dress.

Dean, who had been waiting impatiently with her makeup artist and hair stylist for the last ten minutes as she figured out how to put it on, immediately says, "Yes!" not because he's very interested in seeing her dress, but because he's bored just sitting here.

But when Jo steps into the room, Dean's jaw drops to the floor. She's worn some stunning dresses before, but none like this. It's a beautifully fitted gown, an ombre color pattern from dark blue on the strapless top to light blue down the bottom, with a flowing skirt that reaches just past her feet — nothing a good pair of heels won't solve.

"So?" Jo says with a grin. "What do we think?"

It takes Dean a moment to realize she's asking him, and another few moments to formulate any type of response.

"You look amazing," he breathes.

"Aw, thank you!" She walks over to him and gives him a tight hug, then takes a step back and looks at his outfit. "How bored do you get, wearing the same thing at every event?"

"This isn't the same thing I wore to the Grammys," Dean says. "Look, it's a blue tie. I had a red tie at the Grammys."

"So you wear the same suit but match your tie to my dress at every event," Jo surmises.

"Exactly."

She shakes her head, amused. "I'm so glad I'm not a dude in Hollywood. Y'all are boring as fuck."

"Thank you, I appreciate that," Dean replies.

Jo tries to slip her foot into her shoe, but the straps are too thin and flimsy to stay in place as she puts her foot on it.

"I got it," Dean says, crouching down in front of her. He holds the straps in place as she slips her foot in, then he buckles it. They do the same with the other foot, this time with Jo holding on to Dean's shoulder to balance. "Got it?"

"I think so."

Dean steps away, letting Jo stand on her own in her much-too-tall heels that still don't bring her to Dean's height.

"You look fantastic," Dean says.

"Why, thank you," Jo says with a curtsy. "Are we ready to go?"

"I've been ready for half an hour," Dean reminds her.

"That's true," she admits. "I do put more effort into my appearance than you, so it does tend to take longer."

"You don't have to say 'more effort,'" Dean says. "'Any effort' gets the point across just as well."

Jo shakes her head, amused. "You really are something, huh?"

"Baby, I am everything."

~~

Jo steps out of the limo first. She's the one everyone wants to see. She is the main character of the movie premiering tonight, after all. The camera flashes are blinding even from inside the limo, but it only gets worse when he steps out. He looks around briefly, just long enough for one or two of the paparazzi lining the red carpet to get a good shot of him before he starts walking, Jo's hand in his.

Neither of them speak as they walk. The paparazzi will just end up with unflattering pictures, as if they haven't gotten enough of those yet. Sites like Elle and Variety may use pictures of the stars looking their best, but trashy ones like TMZ do the best they can to make everyone look bad, regardless of whether the article is positive or negative.

Dean walks Jo to where she needs to be — a wall advertising her movie, with paparazzi practically jumping over the rope holding them back. Her agent is not far away, but she, like most managers, does her best to stay out of the pictures. With Dean here anyway, it's easier to have him fix the bottom of Jo's dress than to have her agent head her way. He crouches down at his pseudo-girlfriend's feet, angling himself towards the cameras because the paparazzi have been known to take ass pictures of unsuspecting stars such as himself. It's hard to look good while fixing a dress, but as long as Jo looks hot, there's bound to be some cute pictures coming out of this. Dean's kiss on her forehead afterwards is just icing on the cake.

As Dean steps back to let the paparazzi have their moment with his girlfriend, he can't help but think about how sad this all is. He's really only here to make their relationship look flawless. They want to see all the inevitably incoming articles about how they are "couple goals," as if they don't see enough of those already. They're trying to be the new Blake and Ryan.

And it's all so they can break up and cause the biggest social uproar they've ever seen.

After a few minutes, Jo gestures for Dean to join her. He obliges, unfortunately aware that there are probably going to be some photos off his ass from him walking towards her on the internet tomorrow if the paparazzi can find a buyer. He stands by her side, and, with a glance at her unsmiling face, decides to put his smolder to good use. He's not entirely sure where she's looking, but hopefully their gaze matches at some point. It looks weird when they're looking in opposite directions.

And then they do it again, but smiling. The paparazzi need variety, right?

Dean takes Jo's hand, and though he really only meant it for a few pictures, she seems to think he wanted her attention because she turns to look at him. Obviously, he has to play it off like that's what he expected to happen.

He leans forward, their faces only inches apart. "I really don't know why I'm here." He says it quietly, hoping the paparazzi can't hear him, but that their screams and attention-grabs don't distract Jo from his words. "My entire existence is just ruining your pictures."

Jo laughs, and it honestly breaks Dean's heart that his first thought isn't that she's gorgeous when she laughs, but that it's going to make for some nice pictures. He and Jo would have had so much potential if the industry hadn't set them up, but as they stand now, he knows they'll never be more than friends who just happen to make out when the cameras are on -- and occasionally have platonic sex when the cameras are off, but that's not important.

Speaking of fake dating aus, the paparazzi start screaming louder, and it's no surprise to anyone that it's because Castiel has just arrived. Dean has to do a double take when he sees the guy, because he genuinely cannot believe his eyes.

It's Castiel Novak.

The Castiel Novak.

He's the star of the movie.

And he shows up in the ugliest fucking trench coat Dean has ever seen.

"What is he wearing?" Jo whispers, giggling.

"I think he's going for the 'worst dressed' award," Dean snickers.

And then they put on their friendly faces, because even if Castiel has the worst sense of style on the planet, he's still their friend — even if Jo says he doesn't talk much, and Dean himself has only had one conversation with him, so neither of them really know much about him. Friendship is weird that way. 

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