BTTP; A Real Pizza Work || Vaughn & Chelsea
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He groaned softly, his stare like daggers, piercing into her own bright, friendly gaze. He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. The longer they just stood there, the longer they kept the others behind them up.
His eyes were drawn to the poster advertising that plus one thing. Just how badly was this girl trying to get into the party? He couldn’t understand how or why she wanted to get into this party so badly. It was just another annoying social gathering. Finally, he sighed and leaned down far enough to mutter something in her ear.
“You owe me for this.”
Vaughn straightened up with his hands in his pockets and stared down the ticketer. He dug through one of his pockets for his I.D. and flashed it to the guy. Once approved, he began to walk past the man. Stopping shoulder to shoulder with the guy, he looked between the ticketer and the girl.
“She’s with me,” he said in the most uninterested, monotonous voice he could muster. The guy must of bought it or just didn’t want to deal with a couple of bratty students holding up the line.
Something about his utterance made her shiver. Maybe it was just his voice. It was pretty nice. Regardless, she was in! How lucky! Chelsea stuck her tongue out at the ticketer (why stop a pretty lady, huh!?) and then followed the guy who’d helped her.
“Thanks! You know, for looking so grumpy, you’re pretty nice.” Obviously this guy knew she didn’t go here nor that she had ‘lost’ her I.D. Now that they were a few feet away, she turned to him with her hands on her hips, a critical eye staring at him. “So, what would you like?” She’d said anything, after all, and Chelsea didn’t like owing a debt.












