"You look fantastic!" Cher gushes as she circles around the room, trying to get the perfect viewing angle on her subject. "Azlin, it's like this dress was meant to be yours all along!"

Azlin responds with an exasperated sigh, shifting uncomfortably at how short the dress felt. She's not used to wearing tight fitting dresses that barely even reach her mid-thigh.

"Are you sure I can't change into anything else? I mean, it's just a party. This dress feels a little too... fancy."

"Honey, this is the least flashy thing that I have. Trust me, once you get there, you'd be surprised at how flashy and fancy these people dresses." Cher winks and smacks her cherry red lips as she sashays out of the room. Azlin turns to look at herself in the mirror once again, mulling over the fact that indeed, the black dress looks much more simple compared to most of Cher's sequin dresses. Although it looks much more sophisticated--and most probably more expensive--than all of the dresses she had ever worn before, it does balance the party look and the I-am-conservative look that she prefers.

Also, it had been three hours since Cher invited her over to prepare the so called party, and 90% of that time had been spent just trying on different dresses. At this point, Azlin doesn't really have the energy to argue anymore.

"Come on, we're going to be late!" Cher hollers from outside. Azlin sighs one last time and follows, preparing herself for the dreadful hours that will follow.

***

Azlin doesn't know exactly where they are, but it looks like a residential area. Cher did mention that it's someone's birthday (she forgot the name because it sounded complex and sophisticated), and judging by the size of the house he or she is most probably from one of Cher's circle of elite friends. Plus the fact that all of the parked cars outside are mostly composed of Audis, Bentleys, BMWs, and heck, she even saw one or two Lamborghinis; this party is definitely no joke.

As soon as they reach the door, Cher starts enthusiastically greeting people, smiling and laughing like she knows these people very well. And indeed, Cher was telling the truth. Their outfits are all fancy and flashy, deeming Azlin's dress much more dull and boring in comparison. Plus, all these people look beautiful and picture perfect, as if any moment you can snap a picture of them and make it a cover of a magazine. She did expect it to be something like this, but she did also expect that she will feel so out of place.

"Cher!" An accented voice calls in recognition, and both of them turns around to see a middle aged man already holding his arms open for a hug.

"Pierre! Happy Birthday!" Cher laughs and hugs back the man. They exchange a few more greetings and compliments before she turns back to Azlin. "Pierre, this is Azlin, and Azlin, this is Pierre Patenaude, and you may know him as one of the most influential fashion designers in Hollywood."

"Oh come on Cher, no need for formal introductions." Pierre dismisses, although he obviously enjoys the compliment. He turns back to Azlin and quickly looks her from head to toe--most probably judging her choice her fashion already--before breaking into a dazzling smile and pulling her into a hug.

Azlin didn't miss the disapproving look that flashed across his face before it was covered by a perfect, practiced smile, but she tried her best to ignore this and just hugged back.

"Nice Meeting you Mr. Pierre, Happy Birthday."

"Nice meeting you too, darling. Well then off I go, there's a lot more guests to greet. Help yourself, feel right at home. It was nice seeing you again, Cher!" He exchanges one last hug with her before heading towards another group of guests.

"How did you become close friends with these people?" Azlin asks in awe as she roams her eyes around. Most of these people she could recognize as models, actors, actresses, and others vaguely familiar but surely, she had seen somewhere on TV.

"After being around these people for so many years, you eventually become a familiar face to them. And they like familiar faces, most especially journalists. Believe it or not, these people love to make friends with journalists. We're like publicity tools to them." Cher shrugs as if that isn't a big deal. "But it's a mutually beneficial relationship, really. They give us content, we keep them relevant."

Time passes by with Cher exchanging practiced pleasantries with people and introducing Azlin to them. Eventually, they stay at the living room to socialize with a group of tall and good-looking people--models, as she'd presume--and although she appreciates that Cher tries her best to involve her in the conversation about the recently held fashion week, Azlin's socializing skills are just not that good enough and she inevitably gets lost in the conversation. Already feeling left out and seeing that their conversation will be just fine without her, she excuses herself, saying that she'll go to the restroom.

She decides to walk around by herself, but instead of the restroom, she eventually finds herself walking out through the veranda and into the garden. Finally away from the suffocating atmosphere, she immediately finds comfort in the silence and let out a long sigh.

What is she even doing here?

"Oh, hello." A deep voice laced with an English accent greets. She turns and sees a man leaning against the banister, who seemed to have been enjoying the silence alone until she came.

"Oh, hi." She greets back, not sure what else to say. She slowly moves to a spot a good ten feet away from him, afraid that she might be mistaken as a stalker if she's too close to a celebrity.

A stretch of silence ensues, and she starts to relax again due to the silence and the cool night wind. She almost forgot that she's with another person--she expected him to have left already after she breached his personal space--but that was until he spoke again.

"Not much of an extrovert as well, are you?"

"Not really..." She answers with an awkward laugh. Is it really that obvious?

"Same," he sighs and shifts in his position, moving to a better angle where he can see her. Light finally casts over his face, and the first thing she notices is how his green eyes seem to pierce through the darkness. Azlin almost chokes on her spit as she notices the next thing; he's none other than Ben Hardy; that man that played Roger Taylor in Bohemian freaking Rhapsody.

Why is such a famous celebrity even out here alone?

She swallows and tries her best to calm down, opting to pretend that she doesn't recognize him for the meantime else it might just make the situation awkward. Well, not that she actually knows what's the best thing to do when alone with a celebrity.

"Feels a bit too crowded for me as well," he lightly shakes his head and chuckles. "I don't think we've met before."

"Oh. I'm Azlin. I just came with my friend, Cher Calvin."

"Ben. Ben Hardy." He moves closer to offer a handshake. "I came with a friend too. Mutual friends, I guess."

"Wouldn't your friend be looking for you?"

He shrugs. "He's occupied. Too busy socializing. And you?"

"Same thing."

They laugh at the uncanny similarity of their situation. Azlin appreciates the fact that he's seemingly more chill and calm and not finding the urge to greet people over-enthusiastically. He feels more... approachable. He decides to lean against the banister a few feet beside her, and Azlin tries her best to calm down her nerves as she still couldn't believe that Ben freaking Hardy was standing just right beside her.

"Is this... normal?" Azlin clears her throat and carefully asks, disrupting the brief silence. Ben's eyebrows arch up in curiosity. "I mean, the grand parties, expensive clothes, celebrities...?"

"Here in Hollywood?" He whistles. "Yeah, definitely it is."

Azlin nods in understanding.

"So I'm guessing you're not from around here?"

"No, not really..." she smiles. "I just arrived here a few days ago for...business. Cher was kind enough to show me around and take a peek of the high life, but to be honest, it feels a little bit too much for me."

"Yeah, same." He sighs once again. "I mean, this is great and all to be invited, and it does come with the job, but how can I act like I've been long time friends with people that I've just met? Practically strangers? Heck, I don't even know who the celebrant is."

Azlin laughs as she remembers the perfectly practiced smile of Pierre whatever-his-name-was.

"Well, I'm practically a stranger too." She points out, and Ben pauses at that.

"I guess you're right," He shrugs but then flashes her a small smile. "But I appreciate you're more comfortable to be with than those people. In there, it's just too much unnecessary interactions."

Azlin purses her lips and prays to God that he couldn't see her furious blush through the darkness. She's about to say something when her phone suddenly buzzes in her purse, distracting her. Only then did she realize it's already past midnight, added by the reminder that seems to nag her in the face as it continues to buzz. She shuts it off and sighs.

"Sorry, I think I need to go..." Azlin regretfully informs. "I have something important to attend to tomorrow, and it's getting a bit late."

Knowing herself, she would probably end up late tomorrow if she stays here any longer. Although she hates to throw away the opportunity to stay longer with him, she just couldn't risk it.

"Although, it was nice meeting you. Thanks for the chat."

"You too, Azlin." He smiles, his green eyes seeming to send fluttering feelings down her stomach. She smiles one last time before turning to go back inside, but had to stop when she notices several people blocking the door, busy conversing with one another. Not wanting to disturb them, she opts to look through the veranda window to see if Cher is still in the living room, but she's nowhere to be found.

"If you don't want to go through the main hall, I know an alternate way to the front door." Ben offers with a smile, probably noticing her discomfort with just by looking through the crowded interior.

"Sure, that would be amazing, thank you." Ben leads the way through the garden, and side by side they tread through the silence. He must have used this route when he went to the veranda since he knew where exactly to go despite of the darkness. Once they got to the front door and nearby the street, Azlin whips out her phone once again and attempts to call Cher. However, she still didn't pick up after a few calls, probably still too busy socializing to notice her phone. Azlin curses under her breath.

Sighing, she glances at both ends of the empty street, immediately realizing that no taxi would pass by here at this ungodly hour. Cher is her only ride out of here.

"Um, I'm sorry if I'm bothering you too much already..." Azlin scratches her head as she shyly peers up at Ben. "...but by any chance do you know how to call a cab to this place? I'm new around here and I don't exactly know where we are so..."

His expression morphs into realization and understanding of the situation. He bites his lip and thinks for a moment, glancing between her and the house where the party was ensuing as if he's mulling over something.

"I can give you a ride."

Azlin's eyes widens.

"What?"

"I mean, if that's okay with you." He blinks and his ears turn red, as if he just realized the implications of his offer. "Waiting for a taxi would probably take around 15 to 20 minutes, unless of course you prefer a taxi..."

"No, no, I mean... wouldn't people look for you in there? How about your friend?"

"He'll be fine, he has his own ride." He shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs. "Plus, I need an excuse to leave this place as well."

He cautiously looks at Azlin as she thinks about the offer, and eventually, she sighs and nods.

Ben breaks into a dazzling smile, his green eyes sparkling through the dim light.

****

[A/N]: Like hell, who in their right mind will reject a ride from Ben Hardy?

Those eyes, though. Those damn eyes.