His head tips up. Usually guarded, combative, he blames the night for taking Primal Fear's compliment without an urge to fight it back. It's vague enough of one to slip through a crack that will be gone before the morning comes--all patched up as if it had never existed, just like the sentiment itself. It rests on a moment of pursed lips before his eyes search through the next round of words to come from her, parting her smile and lighting her eyes.
"Next time? From you?" Off to his side, his hand gestures for a drink from behind the bar, barely a glance away, offer extended to her with a shift of his head. "When?" As if the surrounding is mere backdrop, prop material, not to cause interruption to their dialog. "You will wait a year?"
"i'll wait longer." the response is there without thought, the ease of a conversation she never thought she'd have. she didn't need to give a standing ovation to every film, why not every one of his? at least in this phantom conversation, this fever dream of all the privilege a girl could muster in hollywood. "that's up to you."
her smile has been lit with something she can't explain, though the spark is there everclear, even for her uncle who watches from across the bar with, for anyone who might want to congratulate an award winner. "i think you could use—" she stops herself from any more critique. she still falls under the category of lucky to be here, even if she might be considering more. and whoever he'd been talking to is clearly intrigued enough to start a slow loop back towards them.
"it looks like you're going to celebrate all the same." there's no malice to the words, her thought has already dropped. "you should." before it was an awkward starter, so quickly it's already softened to the truth of her thoughts. "think of the textbooks i'll study."
















