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It became apparent that after the god-knows-how-many shots she took after playing beer pong with Shayne, Angela was certified drunk. Not completely drunk, she'd arguedㅡ and the concrete fact to back this up will be presented in the future, involving a lot of second-hand embarrassment for the Starkid talent. She was having a good timeㅡ a great time even, that her usual escape-party strategy never struck her mind that night.
Fleeing the beer pong hell and brushing off Amanda's amused concerns regarding her state, Angela made her way to the corner of the room where the blaring loudness of the annual Smosh's Halloween Party slightly dampened. Still very loud, but hereㅡ she noted the familiar faces of her crewㅡ they leaned against the wall and talked in small groups. Hushed and less suffocating than the boisterous section filled with party games. In her silent observation of scouring her next resting place, Angela spotted Damien sitting on the sofa, animatedly discussing something with Spencer. He was excited, obvious by the wide grin and how his eyes twinkled more than usual. With anything Damien, it was like what he said: I hate how your joy is making me feel joy! ㅡ though, Angela never once detested it.
Damien was her friend and there was nothing short of electrifying than seeing your friends glow with happiness. Honestly speaking, it doubled unconsciously when it came to the white-haired man, but she'd rather not do the math right now. Instead, she grinned, shouted Hey! and waved lankily in their direction.
Damien's eyes widened in delight. "Ahn-geluh!" he greeted and watched as she dumped herself next to him on the sofa. "Uh oh, you're drunk."
"Not!" she disagreed.
"You definitely are." Spencer raised an eyebrow at her before clamping his knees to stand up. "Well since Angela is here; Damien, I'm gonna look for some food."
Damien nodded. "Okay. Nice talking to you, dude." Spencer reciprocated the delight, and both men shook handsㅡ Damien still sitting downㅡ before he turned around and rejoined the raucous crowd.
Angela had unconsciously slid down the sofa, finding it beyond comfortable, and even pondered if she should just sleep there. She blinked her eyes open at the sound of Damien's laugh and caught him staring at her.
"What?" she asked.
He leaned back, settling against the back of the couch. "Nothing. You sure you're good, Ange?"
"Yup," she confirmed and gave him a thumbs-up, accompanied by her grin.
Angela swore she had just closed her eyes once, and all of a sudden her head tumbled toward Damien's arm. She sprung from him like a man stungㅡ Angela knew how much Damien valued his personal space. The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable due to her drunken acts, no matter the fact that Damien was categorized as a close friend in her book.
"Dude, I'm so sorryㅡ"
"Angela, it's okay!" Damien assured her, half-laughing but gentle. Always like that, as if he could read her so well and always comforting. "I don't mind. Come here." He motioned Angela to scoot back beside him.
Her mind had been blaring since she jumped away from the man in front of her. It was so noisy up in her mind and the music spewing from the speakers only added pain to her head. "No, dude. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable, I'm so sorry."
"Angela," he called out. Damien was chuckling, staring at her, and Angela just goggled like a fascinated child at the slow smile blooming on his face. "Chill out! I really don't mind. If I did, you know I would've shrugged you off or ... scream and make everyone turn around and stare in horror, probably."
A giggle spurred from inside her. Damien once admitted how delightful her laughs were, and that memory was all she could've thought of as his eyes crinkled. They were both giggling at each other. Angela bit her lips and mulled over it for a second before deciding: My head is pounding like a bitch. What the hell.
Damien raised his eyebrow as Angela sat, back straight, next to him. "Angela. You can rest your head on me. I don't bite, unless requested."
God, he was so funny.
"You did bite Keith that one time which was wild," Angela countered. Immediately, Damien tried his hardest to make long-winded excuses that made zero correlation, but the grin stayed on her face as she listened, anyway. The heaviness she felt melted instantly when she rested her head against his arm.
This moment caused her to space out just from how truly nice it was. Damien was warm, the chipper tone of his voice, how Angela knew he loved to gesture with his hands when he was enthusiastic but only did so with his unoccupied armー mindful that she was leaning on one of them. The bicep beneath her flexedㅡ could not help itself but move in sync with his storytelling no matter how hard he tried to keep her side still. She scoffed, amused.
"And mind you, Keith did ask to be bittenㅡ"
"Your arm is so nice," Angela mumbled with her eyes closed. Her cheek pressed snugly against Damien's side and realization had not caught up to her.
Damien blinked, his ramble cut short. "Oh. My arm?"
Angela drunkenly nodded, the act caused heat to spread on the spot where she rested. Damien opened his mouth instinctively, though in the end, failing to find the words to reply.
He inhaled before he finally found his voice. "Thanks?"
"Mhmm."
ㅡ
When Angela woke up the next morning, her head pierced with the pain of a thousand headaches, she took some time to drink water and splashed herself awake. Staring at her reflection, she tried to remember how she managed to go home safely last night. Did she schedule her escape? But no takeout box was in sight throughout her apartment, so she immediately scratched that possibility out.
Her phone pinged, and a text from Chanse appeared.
chanse
bitch... u better still go to work today
angela
yea
??why wouldnt i
chanse
do u not remember how i found u last night???
omg
Angela squinted at Chanse's message. Her hand traveled to her pounding forehead and rubbed it absentmindedly, walking back and forth in her bathroom.
"They're so HUGE! Sometimes, I just stare at them."
What the fuck?
A chuckle echoed from the back of her mind. She fucking knew whose chuckle that wasㅡ she knew it too well.
"Ange," a soft voice called. "This is gonna be hilarious when you remember this tomorrow."
Angela covered her mouth in horror. "Oh my god, no."
"No, really!" her voice slurred. "And also your ..." she remembered recreating something close to John Cena's signature pose, "your face is really nice."
"My face?"
"Oh. God."
"When you got that," she was poking his arm now, "sleeve tattoo, I almost diedㅡ well, not really, but the photos you posted on Instagram of them? Stared at them like," she extended her arm, fingers on full display, "5 hours."
"NO."
ㅡ
She called Chanse and freaked out.
"You said what?!"
"Shut up, I know! I know!" Angela bit the tip of her finger anxiously. "I gotta skip work."
"Bitch, no!" Chanse's voice blared through the speaker. "Honestly, when I found you, y'allㅡ well you were snuggling, I'm not gonna lie."
Angela groaned.
"But Damien was laughing!" Chanse informed before she could speak up. "He looked amused!" he added. "Come on, Ange. He probably just took it as a joke or some ... unsober nonsense or whatever."
Angela half-shouted at her phone, pained, "But I did say all of that to him and he probably remembers!"
"Okay, girl ..." Chanse started. "He's at work looking fineㅡ interpret that as you want, but he's acting like the usual!" he tried to convince. "Okay, listen. Angela, if you need a break, go for it. But from my point of view? You avoiding him will just make the whole thing ... weirder."
Damn it.
ㅡ
On the way to work, more recollections decided to visit her brain, uninvited at that. She remembered the unsure tone of his voice that later turned soft as he let her settle deeper into his shoulder.
"Ange, you sure you won't regret telling me these?" he asked. "Maybe we should get you home."
And she had to hit the brake while she drove because Angela recalled replying to his concern withㅡ "The truth shall prevail!" Fisted hand and all. Good lord.
The walk to the office front door was painful. She glanced right, left, and numerously pivoted as if she was being stalkedㅡ all in the hope that she wouldn't run into a certain man with a sleeve tattoo that she drooled over and confessed about. But fate loved laughing at her, and Angela decided to lay face-down at her desk after Courtney reminded her of their shooting schedules.
She had a shoot with Damien.
"Ange, you good?"
Fuck.
Angela spun around on her chair at an alarming rate that even Damienㅡ yes, the one that just asked about her well-beingㅡ reached over, ready to catch, if Angela was to topple sideways.
She gaped. "Damien!"
"Hi," he greeted back, and smiled at her. He was casual this morningㅡ holding a mug and wearing a printed shirt with sleeves too tight and short that allowed Angela to sneak a glance at the tattoos decorating his pale skin. She internally shook her head. The last thing she should be doing was gawk at the man before her.
"Hey, hi." Angela avoided his eyes. "How are you?"
Damien pursed his lips, and his eyebrow twitched. "I'm... good," he answered hesitantly. "You?"
Angela immediately nodded, too enthusiastically at that. The thoughts bouncing inside the cage of her brain were dashing from all directions, she found herself dizzy. Angela would not label herself as confrontational, but she hated keeping things inㅡ especially ones that she knew would better be said. Angela believed, more than anything, that being honest was top-of-the-list. That was how she always was.
"Listen, Damien ..." she started, finally having the courage to look up at him. She breathed in before strings of words vomited at the speed of light, "I'm really, really sorry. What I did was really unprofessional and you probably were SO uncomfortable with how I was behaving last night, and I know I was drunk, but it was SO wrongㅡ"
"Hey, hey, hey," Damien swiftly went down on his knee, trying to stop her apology, which freaked Angela even more. "It's okayㅡ"
"Oh my god, don't kneel in front of me," she covered her face, mortified. "Dude, I feel so bad and now you're KNEELING in front of me, even though I'M probably supposed to be the one kneelingㅡ"
Damien raised his eyebrow. "Ange, ange," he tried again. "It's totally cool. I wasn't uncomfortable or any of that, really. It did caught me off guardㅡ"
"I'm a horrible human being."
"No, you're not. And honestly, your words meant a lot to me." Angela stripped the fingers from her face and looked down at the sight of him smiling fondly at her.
"Really?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "I don't know, it kinda gave me ... a boost of confidence?"
Angela's shoulders sagged in relief. "Really?"
Damien chuckled. "Yes. Really."
For a moment, they just stared at each other. Angela's worried eyebrows with his open face. The actress sighed, "It probably was really inappropriate thoughㅡ"
"Ange, it's fine!" Damien laughed and nudged her knee. It was so hard not to smile around him, Angela realized.
"We're okay, then?" she asked, to which Damien nodded. But Angela still seemed unsure, she straightened her back nervously. "I really don't know how we'll go back to acting normally after I admitted to your face how insanely attractive you are. This is so embarrassing."
Damien's skin turned red. He wordlessly opened his mouth and blinked up at her almost surprised. "Well," he began, "you did not exactly use the word 'insanely attractive' to me, but thanks."
Angela gaped and for the billionth time, she had dug herself another grave. She spun her chair around so Damien wouldn't see her cursing at herself before she circled again, facing him, defeated. "Why do I keep embarrassing myself?"
Damien just shrugged. "It's cute."
Her jaw could not go any lower. "Damien, stop," she instructed and diverted her gaze. "Don't say shit like that."
He grinned. That little fuck, Angela cursed. "Why?"
"Because!" Angela looked around, trying to find some vocabulary to weave into a sentence. "Because it makes me nervous!"
"You don't like that I make you nervous?" he tilted his head and oh fuck him honestly, Angela thought.
"Damien, stop. Or I will short-circuited and cannot work for the whole day," she warned him.
The nerd'sㅡ the best nerd, Angela addedㅡ smile just widened, seemingly satisfied by her reaction. "I'm sorry?"
"Accepted. I'm sorry too."
"Ange," he called out once again. She hummed in response. "Your Starkid show ... You have it on tape?"
Angela stared blankly at him, confused. "Uh, yeah. Why?"
He frowned. "I feel so bad for missing that show you invited me toㅡ"
"Oh. It's fine, Dames."
"Do you think we could watch it together sometimes? Maybe at my place or yours?"
Angela did malfunctioned that whole day.