Rosie was regretting the heels the minute she slipped them on. And yet, for some reason, she threw her aged sneakers into the back seat of the car anyway. Her regret only increased with each tortured step and by the time she had made her way out of the basement garage and into the elevator, all she could think of were those ratting old white converse lying limp on the backseat of the borrowed vintage Mercedes now twenty stories below her.

Her eyes glued themselves to the light-up numbers changing every second or so as the elevator ascended. It was an attempt to get her mind off the pain slowly numbing her toes. It wasn't working.

Her toes were crying and her brain was telling her she should really be asleep right now. Her body was still on China time. Or was it Australian time? There was no way to be sure as her brain was jet-lagged beyond comprehension.

The elevator dinged open and Rosie's frown deepened at the sight that greeted her. People were mingling. There was soft rock floating through the in-house speakers and every member of Cap Records management staff was reveling in a success they had nothing to do with it.

Before Rosie could hit the button that would send her right back down to the garage, a familiar face came into view and Rosie's frown lightened.

"Hey, kid. How ya doing?"

Julien's smile softened and reached up to his eyes, almost meeting the salt and pepper of his hair. Rosie's shoulders loosened at the sight of a friend, someone who would understand the extreme loathing she had for these events. She had always held a special place in her heart for George Briggs' dad. And it wasn't just the fact that he let her crash at his empty mansion just outside town every time she was in town.

"Julien. Thank God."

"Helen make you come?"

Rosie tried not to sneer at the sound of her manager's name at the thought of their last conversation. Rosie had not taken the news that she was expected to appear at some label party two days after having returned from a world tour. She hadn't spoken to Helen since begrudgingly accepting the invitation.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Don't worry. You're not alone. This is all Clements doing, a way to further boost his already enormous ego."

Rosie's eyes flitted over the crowd and what she found confirmed Julien's theory. There were big names in the music industry sprinkled throughout the rest of the guests. At the sight of Toni Sykes enjoying herself chatting it up with label executives, Rosie forced herself to turn away.

"Where's the food? If I'm gonna throw up, I don't want to do it on an empty stomach."

"This way. Ah! Before you go, perhaps you'd like to meet one of the A-listers roped into attending this shin-dig. Rosie, have you met Nate Harper?"

Julien led Rosie further into the room with a gentle hand resting on her shoulders, forcing her to leave the safety of the elevator. At the sound of his name, a tall head of brown hair turned from the small group he was chatting with. His smile flashed over to Julien and then faltered when his eyes landed on Rosie.

"Nate, meet Rosie Mulligan."

"Uh, yeah, we -"

Rosie cut Nate off before he could say much more. Rosie was grateful for Julien's complete ignorance when it came to celebrity gossip and didn't feel like having her personal relationship exposed in front of her unofficial music mentor, whose spare house she was currently borrowing.

"Hi. Nice to meet you. Late Nights, right? The boyband? Gotta say, big fan. Okay. So. The food?"

Rosie didn't let her eyes meet Nate's for longer than a second, giving his extended hand a quick firm shake and then immediately heading in the opposite direction.

Julien showed her to the buffet of food lining a wall of the expansive ballroom and left her to her own. Rosie's eyes expanded at the sight of so many choices. The pile on her plate was reaching dangerous levels when someone came up beside her to join in the feast.

"Hey, Rosie. Back from tour, I see."

Rosie looked up to find a vaguely familiar young man, about her age, with bright red hair and glasses.

Rosie spoke around the small quiche in her mouth.

"Uh, yeah. Hey. Hi. How's it going?"

Her brain worked quickly to try and find a name as her new companion kept talking as he piled food on his plate, his eyes darting a look over his shoulder every few steps as they moved down the line.

"Good. You enjoying the party? Clements really went all out for this. Seems a bit excessive but that's usually his style."

At the name of the label's CEO, a name jumped into Rosie's head and she grabbed hold of it before it could slip away.

"Totally. You know how he is, Graham."

Rosie didn't get the chance to be proud of herself for remembering his name when Graham's cheeks started to flame almost as red as his hair.

"Really?! It's GRANT! For goodness sake, Rosie, I brought you coffee every single day for literally an entire year. I helped you come up with a rhyme for culpability. And you can't even be bothered to know my name?! Screw you. This whole place is filled with idiots and fakes. I am so glad I'm done here."

Grant slammed his plate down halfway through his tirade and stomped off as fast as his short legs could carry him. Rosie looked around but no one else seemed to have noticed or heard his cries of indignation.

Before Rosie could return her full attention to piling as much food as possible on top of her very small plate, a hand grabbed her arm and forced her attention away from the buffet.

"Really, Rosie?! 'Nice to you meet you?' What the heck was that?"

The energy was the same as Grant's fury but the sight of the person now forcing her to look at him made Rosie was to shrink down to the smallest possible size and run right out a window.

Nate's eyes burned with anger but Rosie could see the hurt lay beneath it. She didn't have the energy for either and wrestled her arm out of his grip. Following Grant's example, she threw her plate down on the buffet and stormed away. People were looking now as she called over her shoulder, "Whatever, Nate! Screw you!"

Nate followed right behind her as she stormed across the room. She was inches away from calling the elevator back up to the top floor when Nate grabbed her hand once again and this time, Rosie had no choice but to follow.

Rosie stumbled in her heels as Nate led them away from the party and down a hallway of what was apparently offices. Finding the first one that wasn't locked, Nate ushered Rosie in before him. Rosie grabbed hold of the large mahogany desk that sat in front of a wall of windows before she twisted an ankle in her ridiculous heels. Resting against the desk, she slipped her shoes off and her feet started singing the Hallelujah chorus.

"Seriously, what is wrong with you?"

Nate's Irish accent got thicker when he was angry and his words were on the verge of indecipherable.

"What's wrong with me? What the hell's wrong with you? You can't just trap me in here. You ever think that maybe I avoid you on purpose?"

Rosie stood to move towards the door but Nate blocked the way. After a quick back and forth where she moved to one side only to have him mirror her movements, Rosie gave up with a loud huff of frustration.

"You're such a child! This is why we broke up!"

"Oh really? That's why? At least that's a reason! Finally! After a freaking year and a half of complete silence and I finally hear a reason as to why you suddenly ended things!"

"We were never gonna work! You knew that. I knew that! Hell, even my manager knew. We've both known since the beginning. Because no matter how hard we try, we will never work out. Our lives are too busy!"

"BS."

"What?" Rosie almost choked out the word.

"I'm calling BS! You gave up! You gave up on me, on us! You chose your career over any sort of deep emotional connection because that's easier to deal with!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes! I do! I was in our relationship too! I know how I felt about you and I know damn well how you felt about me! You wrote an ENTIRE ALBUM about us! Do you really think I'm some kind of idiot?"

"Of course not! The only person who ever puts down your intelligence is yourself. I've been telling you for years what an excellent songwriter you are and you never-"

"You getting us off track on purpose because you don't want to face that you still care about me and you feel guilty for how you left things. And I mean literally left! I haven't heard from you in a year in a half!"

"I do not have feelings for you! Why do you think I left? Because I cared? Hell no! Why-"

Rosie's rant was cut off at the knees when Nate closed the distance between them and was suddenly kissing her, there in the dark office of some person they would never meet, while the power's that be of the music industry celebrated yet another successful album launch.

When Nate pulled away, all that was left on Rosie's lips was a sickly sweet taste.

"Green apple chapstick? Really, Nate? How many times have I told you -"

"See?! This is what I mean! You'll rant about my choice in chapstick -"

"There are chemicals in that crap that make your lips MORE dried out! I've told you a million times -"

"You can't avoid your feelings forever, Rosie! You need to make an actual adult decision -"

"Find a brand that uses natural ingredients with a base of coconut oil. You're always complaining about your -"

"MY LIPS ARE FINE!"

Nate's scream finally got Rosie to shut up about their age-old argument and drop the chapstick issue.

"You left me. No note. No reason. Not even a goodbye. I loved you, Rosie."

"I-I'm-"

Rosie struggled for words but before she could get them to form a line and exit through her mouth in an orderly fashion, a sudden burst of sound came from the party area.

"What the hell?"

Rosie sighed with relief at the distraction from the war of emotions raging between her and Nate. She followed close behind him when he retreated to the door to inspect the source of the noise. Rosie ducked her head out of the office underneath where Nate was leaning out into the hallway. Only a few feet away, a wealth of screams were coming from the party-goers and someone trying to scream louder than them all.

"SHUT! UP!"

Another burst of sound, sounding close to a gunshot but not quite, got everyone's attention. Grant stood in the middle of the cowering crowd. Rosie spotted newcomers standing around the edge of the room, all dressed in black with face masks, a few even holding what looked like guns but with a plastic sheen.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to my going away party! I'm so glad you could all attend. And of course, our host for the evening, Mr. Trevor Clements! Everyone give him a round of applause!"

Grant's sarcasm reverberated through the room as everyone stared in quiet horror as Mr. Clements, the graying CEO of Cap Records was dragged into the center of the room.

"Garrett, please-"

"For GOODNESS SAKE! IT'S GRANT! I've worked for you for five years and you still don't know my name! Pathetic!"

Grant grabbed something from behind his back and pointed it straight at Clements's chest. Another burst of sound followed close behind. The crowd screamed. The lack of blood and guts quieted them a little as Clements seemed to be breathing but unconscious.

"All of you! Are pathetic! You gather here tonight to celebrate Reeve Keller's big return to music. She just released the biggest album of the decade, already raking in millions and millions of dollars in album sales and concert tickets. And is Reeve Keller even here?"

No one dared answer the rhetorical question.

"I didn't think so! She probably doesn't even know this party was thrown in her 'favor'!"

The air-quotes were audible.

"She probably doesn't even care! Cap Records isn't even her record label! They're her parent record label. Not a single person here had anything to do with making that album. But is that gonna stop some idiot bigwig like Clements from celebrating someone's success and claiming it as his own? Nope! Not a chance!"

"Listen, I understand-"

Julien had risen from the ground and taken a step forward. He stopped when Grant set his sights and his gun on him. Julien raised his hands in surrender, his soft, calm voice trying its best to tone down the hostility in the room.

"I know you're upset but this is -"

"You have no idea how I feel. Not a clue! So shut your mouth, Burns, before I shut it for you!"

Even from a distance, Rosie could see a glimmer start to shine in Grant's eyes and she did not like the way he was looking at Julien.

"Actually, you're exactly who I've been looking for! Clements right-hand man! Head of A&R! Cap Records own Artistic Director. You'll know the combo to the safe. Come with me."

Grant grabbed Julien by the arm and forced him to walk ahead of him, keeping his stun-gun pointed into the small of Julien's back.

"Make sure no one leaves! And check any of the offices for stragglers! No one's making it out of this party unless I say so!"

Grant's group of henchmen stood at attention and started wandering around the room, keeping the crowd cowering on the floor. A few broke off and started for the hallway. Rosie moved to go after Julien before she could lose sight of him but Nate clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her back into the office.

She didn't even get the chance to scream as he was keeping her against the wall, behind a large filing cabinet, out of view from the open doorway. She struggled for a second but the glare in his eye told her to quit it. Two of Grant's henchmen stepped inside the office, gave a quick glance around then left, calling out "All clear!" as they walked back down the hallway.

"We have to go help Julien."

Rosie's words came out as a whisper and didn't have far to travel as Nate's face was only inches from her own.

"What? No! We have to call the cops!"

Nate had to let go of his grip on Rosie to grab his phone from his pocket.

"We can call the cops later! AFTER we go help Julien. Grant's barely packing heat as I'm pretty sure that gun's just a stun-gun but still!"

"My phone's dead." Nate held up a blank screen. "They must have cut the reception or something. There's a security desk downstairs. We can head there and get help."

"We need to help Julien. He's our top priority."

"What? Are you crazy? Rosie, we are the only two people on this floor who aren't being held hostage. We have to call for help. People could get hurt."

"They're packing stun-guns and I'm pretty sure I could take these guys from the look of their scrawny size. Did you see one of them was wearing a beret and a red scarf with their face mask? Maybe to go with the all-black theme, I don't know-"

Nate cut Rosie's ramblings short. He grabbed her shoulders so she had to face him.

"Rosie, we have to call for help. This isn't a joke. We're in serious danger."

"Okay, okay, calm down. Let me think. Landlines! If they've messed with the reception then they probably didn't bother with the landlines. I don't even know if there are any but let's start there."

They finally stepped out from their hiding spot and looked around the empty office. Nothing. Rosie snapped her fingers as an idea came to her and the sound bounced off the quiet in the room.

"Clements."

"What about him?" Nate asked.

"He's got a landline. It's a power trip thing. He likes being able to slam the phone down on whoever he's talking to. And he's scared of technology but would never admit it."

"How do you know this?"

"I've hung around his office enough and Graham isn't always aware of how much he gossips about his boss."

"Grant. What are you proposing?"

"Two birds, one stone."

The look on Nate's face didn't hinder Rosie's enthusiasm as her plan started to form in her brain. His eyebrows drew closer together as he waited for Rosie to explain.

"We go save Julien AND call for help."

"So you want to just walk into the middle of whatever is playing out with Grant? You could get us both hurt, at worse killed, if this somehow escalates."

"Trust me, okay? We can do this. I'll think of some plan once we can assess the situation. It'll be fine."

"Somehow I don't believe you."

"Nate, we don't have a lot of options right now. I know it will almost literally kill you to follow my instructions but I really need you to trust me."

Nate let out a long low sigh and shook his head.

"You're gonna get me killed one of these days, Rosie Mulligan, I swear. Fine. Whatever you say."

"Thank you."

Rosie's tone turned serious for a second as she could see the weight of Nate's decision to trust her fall on his shoulders. And suddenly she felt the weight of responsibility fall on hers.

"They've probably shut down the elevators if they've shut down the phones. How are we suppose to get to Grant? Where do you think he even is? Where's this safe he was talking about?" Nate asked.

"Clements's office. It's this giant black thing he likes to put on display, thinks it's some kind of mark of power or whatever. We can head up the back stairs. They're through the kitchen."

Rosie stuck her head out into the hallway, Nate following close behind. The party guests seemed to have made themselves comfortable and were now chatting away, sitting on the floor. A few of the guards had even started passing out drinks and snacks from the buffet. No one noticed the two stray guests as they exited the office and slid further into the shadows down the long hallway.

The bright fluorescent lights of the chrome industrial kitchen were blinding as Rosie and Nate pushed open the swinging doors. Voices rose to meet them as soon as they stepped inside and they jumped back out of sight, pressing themselves flat against the wall right inside the kitchen doors.

"This was such an original idea."

"I know, right? I've been to like a million of these meet-ups and they're never this exciting. Way to go, Grant!"

"Did you guys get a picture with Toni Sykes? She's so sweet. So chill about this whole situation. She's just so down to earth."

Nate and Rosie's breathing eased as they listened to the chatter. A glance around the corner revealed a group of the guards standing around drinking coffee, their black face masks lying lifeless on the counter behind them.

"Think you could take them?"

There was a hint of humor in Nate's whisper. She looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon. Sliding off her suit jacket and rolling up the sleeves of her button-up, Rosie grabbed two empty serving trays from a stack right past Nate's arm, only her hand in possible view from the others.

"Here. Swing as hard as you can. On three. Ready?"

Nate nodded.

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!"

Nate and Rosie jumped out from around the corner yelling at the top of their lungs, rushing towards the group.

"AHHHH!!!"

"AHHHH!!"

Their cries of war were met with cries of terror and all seven of the coffee cups hit the floor as seven pairs of hands were lifted up in surrender.

"Don't hurt us!"

"Oh my gosh! You scared us!"

"Whatever you want, take it!"

Nate and Rosie exchanged a confused glance as they were frozen in front of a group of seven cowering guards, their stun-guns apparently forgotten in the wake of Nate and Rosie's makeshift weapons.

An exclamation broke the awkward stand-off between the two groups.

"Hey! It's Rosie Mulligan."

"And Nate Harper!"

"Ohmygosh! I'm such a huge Late Nights fan. Can I have a picture?"

Rosie's rising confusion was mirrored in Nate's expression as they exchanged another glance.

"Uh, sure?" Nate replied.

The group seemed to have relaxed, their terror fading into recognition and excitement. Rosie grabbed Nate's arm before he could lower his weapon, commanding him with her eyes to keep his tray raised.

"Stop! Not before we get some answers! Who the hell are you guys and what are you doing here?"

The volume and force in her voice brought terror back into the wide eyes staring at her. They shoved a spokesperson forward from their ranks to answer her question.

"Uh, we're Grant's friends? He hired us to help him out at this party? We were just told to wear all black, he would bring everything else."

"The guns?" Rosie asked.

"Fakes, prop guns. Reed works over on the Universal lot and borrowed them for the night."

The spokesperson nodded over his shoulder and one of his number raised his hand and waved.

"Why would you guys help Grant take hostage an entire party? What's the plan here?"

Since Rosie had yet to actually harm anyone, another of the group took a cautious step forward.

"Grant posted on the forum that he needed help getting even with his boss. He just got fired and lost his severance. He said he had a foolproof plan to earn us all a quick buck. Said whoever was in the LA area and could come help him would get a percentage."

Nate lowered his tray.

"Wait. Where did you guys say you met Grant?"

"On the Angry Assistants subreddit?"

Rosie dropped her tray and nodded at the knowing look Nate sent over his shoulder. These people were harmless.

"That makes sense."

"So. That selfie?"

A cell phone was extended in Nate's direction and Rosie rolled her eyes. Of course, even in the middle of a hostage situation. Nate looked to Rosie for her decision, his eyes followed along with each of the other seven, all staring at her expectantly.

"Fine! One group selfie. But you guys can't tell any of your other friends we were here."

"Deal!"

"You got it."

"Sounds good."

"I'm such a big fan."

Rosie took a reluctant selfie with the whole group, Nate's smile barely under containment as the whole situation was morphing from serious to humorous. The group scurried themselves out of the kitchen with excited whispers and bright eyes, glancing over their shoulder as Nate and Rosie waved goodbye.

"This is the most ridiculous situation I have ever been a part of."

Nate shook his head at Rosie's statement.

"Nope. Chicago. That fancy Italian restaurant. That was worse."

Rosie smiled at the memory and nodded.

"You're right. That was worse. You still owe me for the whole Queen of Sausage act. Don't think I've forgotten."

"Of course not."

The atmosphere between them had somehow lightened and a hint of the old friendship that had held together their tenuous romantic relationship was breaking through the tension of things still left unsaid.

"The stairs?"

If Nate hadn't said anything, they might have stood in that kitchen, staring at each other, for hours. Rosie nodded, standing up straight, forcing herself to become alert and serious once more.

"Right. Stairs. Or the dumbwaiter. That'll take us up there too but it'll dump us right in the middle of Clements's front lobby."

"Where will the stairs take us?"

"To the balcony outside his private office."

"Let's do that."

Rosie nodded and headed towards the back of the kitchen, furthering the distance even more between them and the rest of the guests. She held the swinging door open for Nate and then started up the barren metal staircase. Their footsteps resounded off of the stairwell that descended more than fifty stories beneath them.

"How do you know your way around this place?" Nate asked.

"I'm really good at procrastinating. I got stuck writing my second album a few years ago. Instead of sitting in a studio downstairs, staring at the wall, I took to exploring. It actually helped me write."

"Is that where "Sneaking Out" came from?"

"Yup. I used it as a metaphor for running from my feelings."

"Since you have no other experience in that area."

It would have been impossible to miss the sarcasm in Nate's voice and when Rosie looked over her shoulder, her eyes met his for a long moment as more unspoken words flew between them.

A burst of cold air ran to meet them as they opened the door leading to Clements balcony. Nate eased the door closed behind them so it wouldn't get a chance to slam and reveal their location.

Rosie pushed her back up against the cool stone wall of the building's exterior and slid along until she reached the corner. Hidden by the shadow cast from the building, Rosie peaked around the corner and found the end of the balcony extending from Clements's office empty but lit up by exterior lights.

Rosie turned over her shoulder and nodded for Nate to follow. Still, in shadow, she grabbed onto his hand and crept forward until the shadows ended. They followed along the wall of windows dark as Clements's private office had remained undisturbed. The real drama was playing out in his front lobby where every light had been turned on and Grant was reveling in his (temporary) success.

Rosie's bare feet lined up just where the beam of the overhead lights stopped and leaned forward to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside. The thick glass kept any sound from leaking out or sneaking in.

Grant was lounging in one of the large leather couches facing an electronic fireplace, his shoes kicked off, his feet up on the coffee table between them. When Rosie leaned an inch further, she could see the large black safe that dominated the room and Julien standing right in front of it, two guards half his height standing on each side of him, fake guns at the ready.

Rosie jumped back when Grant rose from his seat but a glance a second later showed him diving into Clements's very old and very expensive liquor collection. Rosie stood up straight, completely in the shadows, and gave her heart a chance to calm down, as it was pounding in her ears. She spoke in a whisper, sure Grant couldn't see them or hear them but not interested in risking either.

"Julien's fine. Graham's in the middle of raiding Clements's Scotch. We have time to come up with a plan."

Nate nodded towards the corner of the balcony, in the direction where they had just come, further into the shadows. Rosie followed. It wasn't until she was leaning against the railing letting the cool night air calm her down that she realized she was still holding tight to Nate's hand. She let it drop and rubbed her sweating palms against her pants.

Rosie turned her attention out to the waiting cityscape. Turning her back on the task at hand, she breathed in the fresh air rushing all around her. It came flying off the ocean not too far away and had a strong hint of salt running through it.

They were in the heart of downtown Los Angeles, in the middle of a sky-scraper forest. The buildings all around them were still lit from within, their lights winking out one by one as people left work for the evening. Down beneath their feet was a labyrinth of city streets, cars racing back and forth, honking and screaming at each other. Traffic in its purest form.

When Rosie closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was back home, back in her bedroom on the top floor of her parent's Brooklyn townhouse, the sounds of the two cities distant relatives. Where there was sea salt and smug should have been cigarette smoke and garbage but it was close enough that Rosie took a deep breath and found the ground beneath her feet.

When she opened her eyes, she found one of her dearest friends looking right back at her, watching her, observing her, trying to memorize every expression in case she vanished into thin air once again.

At the sight of Nate's bright blue eyes, a sharp pain pierced Rosie's chest and she found she missed him, the man standing only a few inches from her. It was the quiet, a reminder of her natural habitat, a moment of stillness, that sent all the emotions she had been running from for the last year and a half flooding into her chest.

There was no screaming crowd to watch her perform, there were no crew bustling things around, there was no tour bus bouncing her from one city to the next. There wasn't an empty house set on an empty hill, there for her to recover from the road, its silence almost as loud as the screaming crowds. It was just her and someone she cared so much about.

Even though they were yards from Grant and his assistants, with inches of glass and building between them, Rosie spoke her confession in a whisper, the wind carrying it away as soon as it left her lips, whipping past Nate for only a second before it disappeared into the night.

"I'm sorry, Nate."

He stood up straight at her words, his eyes dropping to his shoes.

"It's okay, Rosie. I under-"

"No. It's not okay. No matter what we were, how we felt about each other, you're my friend and you didn't deserve it. I should have explained. I should have told you, at least. Leaving you behind, in the dark. It was unfair and cruel and I'm sorry."

He nodded as he absorbed her words.

"Thanks. It means a lot. The last year and a half..."

He took a breath to collect his thoughts.

"It was tough. I didn't know what I did. I didn't even know where you were half the time and I kept trying to get a hold of you. I wanted to fix it, whatever I'd done."

"It wasn't you. Trust me on that, okay? It wasn't. It was me. It was our situation. It was our careers. I was tired of fighting just to see you, I was tired of hearing rumors and getting pointed questions about some new girl you were supposed to be seeing. I didn't believe them. I know you too well but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard to face. Every single day. I was a coward. I took what I thought was the easy way out. I thought if I just stopped thinking about you I could forget how much I care about you. But running from my feelings for a year and a half doesn't mean they ever left, it just means I learned how to ignore them."

Nate extended his arm and dropped it down on top of Rosie's shoulder, bringing her in for a hug, her arms wrapping around his waist, a move they had performed a million times before, the weight of his arm as familiar as her own face.

"I love you, Rosie. And I forgive you. It took me a while to move on, from you and the heartbreak. But I still care about you. I always will. You can always count me as a friend."

"I love you too, Nate."

And with the words finally spoken, said out loud, washed away with the wind and the sound of traffic and city life, the romantic part of their relationship finally came to a close. But what was left was the makings of a beautiful friendship.

"Rosie. Do you trust me?"

At his question, Rosie called to mind the endless hours they had spent talking over the phone, sometimes on opposite sides of the world, the precious few days they got to spend together in person, all the secrets shared between them that Rosie would have sworn she would never be able to tell anyone else. With all these memories, her answer was so simple.

"Of course."

"Good. Because I've got a plan on how to get us out of this mess but you're not gonna like it."

Rosie looked up and met his eyes.

"What do you have in mind?"

*

It was a dumb idea. A terrible idea and Rosie was regretting her decision to follow Nate's lead with every second she spent squeezed inside the tiny dumbwaiter. She had lost her button-up shirt as it made too much noise when she moved but it wouldn't have mattered anyway because the dumbwaiter made more noise than Rosie would have thought possible.

And so she found herself cramped in a tiny space, no shoes, in a dirty tank top, with her big toe bleeding from where she had cut herself on a shard of glass on the balcony. And in the noisiest dumbwaiter known to man as it rattled itself skyward at an annoyingly slow pace.

'They'll hear me coming a mile away. Great plan, Nate. Stellar idea.'

Rosie had almost two whole minutes to think of ways Nate's plan was absolutely idiotic and how she was equally as idiotic for going along with it as it took the dumbwaiter an obscene amount of time to raise itself from the kitchen just one floor up into Clements's front lobby.

Rosie didn't have to open the dumbwaiter door when it finally stopped. Two of Grant's guards did it for her.

"Rosie Mulligan! Welcome to the party!"

Grant stood in front of the safe with his arms extended in greeting, his face gleaming with a menacing excitement, a tumbler of scotch in one hand, his stun-gun in the other. Rosie shot Julien a glance, giving him a once-over to make sure he was okay. He sent back a half-smile, seemingly unharmed, mostly bored.

Nate hadn't asked why Rosie needed to make sure Julien was okay. He had simply trusted her. Julien was the closest thing to a father Rosie'd had ever since she started music. Her own father had long ago unofficially disinherited her for not following in the family business, choosing instead to pursue music. Julien had discovered Rosie while she was playing a street corner outside Madison Square Garden. He was her musical mentor, the father to one of her oldest friends, and an invaluable partner in her constant pursuit to make the music she knew she needed to make.

And he was standing, tall, unharmed, bored, verging on the edge of annoyed. Rosie let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for coming! I'm sure you're dying to know what all this has been about."

Grant was making himself the center of attention.

"Not really. Some of your staff downstairs-"

"Did you know I was Clements's personal assistant for five years?"

"I did, act-"

It was a rhetorical question.

"Five years. I worked tirelessly, always trying to prove myself, prove that I was trustworthy, that I could handle more responsibility. I worked ninety hours a week for a man who couldn't be bothered to tie his own shoes so he only wore loafers. And you know what it got me?"

Rosie stayed quiet this time. Grant was clearly monologuing.

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing! A pat on the back, not even severance, fired because his new girlfriend's daughter needed a job! His letter of recommendation was three sentences long!"

Grant stood tall, puffing out his chest, dropping his voice down an octave. His impersonation covered the soft sound of a door, at the far end of Clements's dark office, opening and then closing.

"'Gerry is an excellent secretary. I wholly recommend him for this position. Impressive typing skills.'"

The laugh that escaped Grant's mouth was full of bitterness, his mouth turned up in a sneer.

"Do you wanna know what's in the safe?"

He nodded towards the black monstrosity that stood behind Julien. Rosie shrugged, completely indifferent.

"15 million dollars. Reeve Keller has the highest-grossing album of all time right now. She just sold out a world tour in under an hour. All the revenue, every single cent she just made, is in that safe. It's one of Clements's favorite little traditions. Before all the money is dulled out to the artists, the musicians, the mixers, the venues, whoever else, he likes it keep it, for just one night, in his safe, in cash, where he can see it. Of course, no one's supposed to know this. But I do. Some might call this revenge for getting fired, some payback for how bad he's treated me over the past five years. I call it severance."

"Greg, look, granted, Clements-"

Grant cut Julien's words off with a scream.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! MY NAME IS GRANT!"

He screamed so loud no one but Rosie heard the soft murmurings coming from the office behind her. But she had been waiting for them.

"Grant. Got it. Sorry. But this money isn't even Clements. You're not stealing from your boss. You said it yourself. You're stealing from the people who have earned this money, who are expecting it."

Julien's cool logic was too much for Grant. His face was now bright red and there should have been steam pouring out of his ears.

"Shut! Up! Open the safe! Now! You two, get the duffel bags. We're clearing it out and ditching this place."

The two guards moved to help as Grant grabbed Julien's arm and forced him to face the safe.

"Uh, you don't want to do that."

Grant turned at Rosie's words.

"And why is that?"

"It's booby-trapped."

"No, it's not! Clements isn't smart enough. I should know. I even knew the combination until he changed after he fired me. You. Open it. Now."

Grant nudged Julien with his gun, pushing him closer to the safe.

"I just feel like this is a bad idea."

"You seriously need to shut up! Who are you even?"

Grant's full rage was now focused on Rosie.

"Some big shot singer-songwriter? Who freaking cares! The only thing people actually know you for is being that stupid Nate Harper's girlfriend. Pathetic!"

"Hey! She's my EX-girlfriend and you're not allowed to talk to her like that!"

Rosie smirked at the sight of Nate stepping from the shadows of Clements office.

"We have another guest! Someone else to watch me steal fifteen million dollars! Fun! Tie him up!"

His last command went to his guards, who moved towards Nate.

Reaching a hand behind him, Nate held up his other.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!"

"Oh really? And why's that?"

Grant sounded half curious and half annoyed.

"Because! I'm.....signing autographs!"

Those two words sent the guards into a frenzy.

"Sign my arm! I'm such a big fan."

"Can we take a selfie? Can you give Johnny my number?"

Grant, his plan, and the safe were all forgotten.

"No! Stop it! What are you doing?! Focus! We have a job to do!"

"Sorry, kid. This party's over."

And as if she had rehearsed it, the sound of sirens filtered in from the outside as soon as Rosie stopped talking. A few seconds later came the pounding of footsteps as they raced up the main stairwell, a hoard of policemen barging into the room.

"Everyone, freeze! Put your hands up!"

"Garret Franklin, you're under arrest!"

"It's Grant!"

The police dragged Grant away, kicking and screaming the whole way, red hot tears flowing down his face as he watched his foolproof plan go right down the drain. His two guards were taken away with him, both compliant and well behaved. One of them tried to wave back at Nate before the policeman grabbing his arm shoved him out the door.

"Good work, you two."

Julien gave them both a nod of thanks before following behind, leaving Nate and Rosie in the aftermath of the chaos.

"Well. That definitely happened," Rosie sighed.

Nate dropped his arm over Rosie's shoulder, fatigue hitting them both at the same time.

"Think anyone will ever believe this actually happened?"

Rosie shook her head.

"Clements will keep it quiet, for sure. It'll just be our word against his."

They slowly made their way to the door and down the stairs. The lobby was now nearly empty, the guests having been escorted out, the party over.

"That got a bit intense for a while."

Rosie snorted.

"Be reasonable, Nate. We were hardly dying."

A/N:

Phew! That was one hunk of a story! How are we doing? You okay? Go get some water, rehydrate after that rollercoaster of emotions.

This story is where 'Love Like The Movies' really took off. 

I was watching this Youtube reality show that starred two people who used to be in a long term relationship a long time ago and they had to work something out.

I was intrigued by the base of trust and understanding between them, despite not being together, and knew I wanted to write a dynamic like that.

Thus Rosie and Nate, unfortunately, had to break up. Sorry.

The idea of putting them in a Die Hard situation was to test their relationship, force them to trust each other once more, despite all the hard feelings between them. And I love how this story turned out.

Well that's it for 'Love Like The Movies', at least for now. What did you think?

Which was your favorite?

Any suggestions for other movies that would work with Rosie and Nate's story arc? 

Let me know!

Thanks for reading!