You and Me (Plus Everyone In Between Us)

Dumpster Dive

"Ezra?" he asked me, a curious look in his eyes.

Every single word I learned in my life fled from my brain and I muttered out some incoherent babble that got clogged up in my throat.

What. The. Hell?

Realistically what was one supposed to do when they ran into one of the most famous celebrities in the world, hungover at that? I didn't even like his music, so breaking down and crying and fangirling was not an option.

We stood there for a guaranteed minute, as I re-learned the entire English language. Despite being a celebrity, he was decidedly conspicuously inconspicuous. He was in the signature "avoid paparazzi" get-up, wearing a black hoodie, and a black hoodie, that pressed his dreads down nicely over his face.

I still couldn't believe it. Maybe he couldn't believe that I wasn't here on my knees professing my undying loyalty and love to him.

"How the hell do you know my name?" I finally asked accusingly. "You spilled coffee all over me!"

"I wasn't the one running through the street like a madwoman," he scoffed. "If anything, you got coffee all over yourself. You know how expensive this was?"

I rolled my eyes. Of course, he was cocky in real life. "It's nothing you can't afford. Anyways, I need to go."

I dodged past him, continuing my madwoman marathon across LA.

"You're not going to get there in time," he deadpanned, crossing his arms.

I turned back to him. "How do you know where I'm going?"

"One I was a contestant last season in case you didn't know," He humble-bragged. I think. "And second, I'm going there too."

"How come?"

"I'm the guest judge on the show," he revealed.

Guest judge? We were never told about more than two judges. Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise. Somehow I was surprised but not surprised.

"Do you want a ride?" he wondered snarkily.

"No," I quickly said, before running farther.

If this was Maria she would've accepted in a heartbeat. I think for a while, and feel my throat throbbing from all that running and the adrenaline wearing off, and damn, am I tired. I turned back to Andre in shame.

"Actually, can I change my mind?" I asked, and Andre laughed like this was funny or something.

"Of course," Andre said, smirking. "Right this way."

I nodded, as I followed him to his car. It was weird following some random man to his car, even though that random man actually wasn't so random after all. I expected us to turn up in front of some sleek, fancy, sports car, but instead, we pulled up next to a red minivan.

Andre opened the door for me. "Enter."

I stepped up before he suddenly threw his arm on my back, before pulling me down to a crouching position behind the car. My knees screamed in pain.

"Huh-

He pressed a finger to lips. "Don't make a sound."

"What?" I hissed.

"Listen," he mouthed.

In the distance, I heard to faint click of a camera in the air before a chorus of them followed. My eyes winded in shock.

"Paparazzi," Andre hissed, before grabbing onto my arm with a firm hand and pulling me onto the sidewalk, around the corner of the car.

"Andre!" a chorus of shouts yelled our direction, as footsteps trailed behind us.