Not Even Friends ° t. holland

▪︎ 22 ▪︎

new york city, new york
4 Days Later

Today's schedule was packed with interviews from smaller social media platforms— news outlets commonly seen on Snapchat or YouTube.  I was paired up with Aaron for the whole day, and honestly I wasn't complaining.  I hadn't had much time with him lately, and I missed our close friendship.

We had just finished wrapping up with LADBible; playing First Impressions with one another.  It resulted in multiple animal noise impressions and plenty of fellow celebrity impressions as well.  I was much better at the game than Aaron; no offense to him.

I was absolutely starved, so Vita ran out to grab us some shakes and açaí bowls from a nearby cafe.  Aaron and I headed to another shooting location —MTV's — only a block down the street.

Some fans noticed us as we walked by them exiting a hair salon.  Immediately, the two teen girls FLIPPED out.

"Ahhh!  Holy shit you're Y/F/N!" said one, her hair braided in a fishtail.  Her friend, one with purple hair, was quick to fawn over Aaron.

"I'm— we're HUGE fans," said the purple haired girl, "I have you tattooed on me!"

The security man following us tried to step in, but Aaron and I told him to stay back.  These girls seemed harmless enough.  Quite adorable, to be honest.  However, they were drawing in a crowd quickly.

"What's your names?" Aaron asked them, his tone purposely quiet.  The girls caught on.

"Sierra," said the one with the fishtail braid.

"Brantley," said the one with purple hair.  She held out her wrist, showing she did have an anime-style tattoo of my character, Mara, on her skin.

"Aw!" I gushed, looking over the ink, That's so amazing, wow."  I didn't really know what else to say— people getting tattoos of me always threw me off.

"Where's mine?" Aaron teased, a cheeky smile on his face. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"Wait, oh my god, can you sign my arm?!" Sierra asked Aaron with a squeal. "I'm— I'm literally not kidding; I want it tattooed!"

Aaron and I shared an amused look with each other, but Sierra didn't notice as she pulled a sharpie out of her fanny-pack.  She held it out to us while Brantley fiddled with her phone.

"I'm sorry we're so... aGh," Brantley apologized with jazz hands, catching her breath and smiling at me. "I'm just, like, I just love you."

"Aw, well I love you too," I told her honestly.  Fans like her were the best— the ones that purely support you with good intention.  I wrapped my arm around her loosely as I gestured to her phone. "Did you... want a selfie?"

"Yes! I'm literally shaking," she said nervously, her iPhone barely gripped in her trembling hand.

"Here, I got it," I said kindly, gingerly plucking the phone out of her hand and taking the picture for her.  Honestly, it was one of the cuter fan-selfies I've ever taken.  Maybe I could find it on Instagram after she posts it.

Aaron and Sierra were still talking, discussing exactly how to place his autograph on her arm.  Brantley grinned at her friend and whispered to me with a giggle, "She's got like, the biggest crush on him."