PR stunts seem to do the trick, don't they? (1)
Now Playing: About You - The 1975 (only here for that one little bit of the bridge)
royalty/athlete y/n, youre around 23 in this one
"Are you an idiot?" You were slouching in the cheap leather chair of your team's office. Your face remained emotionless, well, maybe just a little annoyed. Your manager had his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, you clearly weren't the only one frustrated.
"I can fire you for saying that." You were half joking, a slight raise of amusement in your eyebrows. When they gave you an even more unamused look, you sighed. "What did I do this time?"
He raised his eyebrows, taking this moment as an opportunity. "This time? Oh there's plenty." He whipped open a drawer, pulling out a notebook titled 'to fix', which made you purse your lips a little. He began to list off many of the different things that you have been doing. Individually, it isn't too big of a deal, but with the amount that you have, it can be concerning. "Not only are you an athlete and held to the highest standard with your performance, you are also royalty. You have a big reputation to uphold."
You let out a small gag, your tongue sticking out. "You sound like my dad." You crossed your arms. "I don't get how people leaving my house is concerning." You shrugged. "It's not like I'm doing anything actually wrong, I'm grinding out these practices and my royal duties. Tell me I'm not doing them well." You leaned even more back. "Who are they to judge what I do during my free time? I don't party that often."
"I'm not saying you aren't doing anything wrong, I'm just saying that they're going to think that you're doing... things that you shouldn't be to enhance your abilities." Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped but formed a slight disgusted look.
"People are thinking I'm using drugs? That's a new one." You glanced to see your bodyguard, and you narrowed your eyes on him, but he shook his head.
"We have a plan," You immediately rolled your eyes. "Unless you want to ruin your career, getting drug tested constantly and monitored over 24/7." You clenched your jaw and shook your head. "Good, we're going to implement it little by little. Firstly, you're going to stop having so many parties." You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. "You can still have them, just not so much, maybe monthly."
You slightly sneered at him, coming up with an argument. "I just can't do that, people are going to wonder."
"Which is why we have a plan." You quickly shut up, but it didn't stop you from making an upset frown. "You're not going to bring much people over, because we're going to start having someone come over often. From there, it'll become a more public relationship."
"What?" You almost let out a laugh at how preposterous this idea was. "You wanna have a PR stunt?" Your manager nodded. "Do those things even work?"
He raised his shoulders. "No idea, but it might just work for you." Your narrowed your eyes, not quite believing him. He grabbed a file from his desk and slid it over to you. "This has all the information on the plan. The girl is imagined to be America's sweetheart, especially since she's recently blowing up. It'll be a win-win. You get a better record now that you've been settled down, she's going to get even more attention now that she's won over England's gold medalist playgirl princess." You knew he was gassing you up so that you would go along with the plan, you had to admit, it was a bit silly for him to call you that.
You were pretty sure you were close to being next-in-line for the throne, you weren't really sure how it worked, you never bothered to invest yourself in it. You were currently based in Los Angeles because there were a few movies that had wanted you to play some small roles and cameos in, but also your trainers and coaches thought it would be best for you to be in a different environment to get some perspective, so it put a pause on a lot of different events that you had to do back at your home country and gave a lot more time for you to do what you liked. "What else is a part of this plan? It better not be just this Red, White and Royal Blue situation."
"As of right now, it's pulling off that PR stunt because it's going to take some time. From there, we're going to see what we need to do next from there." His phone started to buzz. "Speaking of, want to meet your new girlfriend?"
You slowly pulled the file open, glancing down at the name. "Jenna Ortega. Sounds familiar. Have I seen her shows?" He shrugged, calling up the girl and her own management team. "Alright then."
He made his way around his desk, and opened the door. You followed him, somehow invested in the file. He abruptly stopped, making you run into someone. "Shit-"
"Oh fuck-" You didn't realize that you had knocked her really hard. "My bad, mate, so sorry."
"Yeah, just watch it." The two of you made eye contact, before your eyes quickly went over her. You raised an eyebrow, not expecting the attitude.
"Already said my bad, no need to be a bitch." You turned towards your manager, who was covering his face. You weren't really sure what he was doing. "Where's the girl?" He motioned towards the girl you bumped into. "You?" You exclaimed. "Her?" You motioned towards her, as if she wasn't actually there. "You're America's next Sweetheart?"
"And you're England's-" She looked at her wrist to read it out, which made you raise your eyebrows in slight amusement. "gold medalist playgirl princess?" Your lips quirked as you held out a hand for her to shake. She looked down at it and furrowed her eyebrows. "Why is there blood on your hands?"
You looked at your hands. "Oh, I nicked it while shaving not too long ago and accidentally picked at the scab, it wouldn't stop bleeding and I waited a little too long to wash it so it stained." She looked at your weirdly. "What? D'you lot not say nicked? Y'know, like cut?"
You held out your hand again. She shook her head at you. "Whatever. It's Jenna Ortega, your highness." You smirked just a little.
"Already know that," Albeit, she's been a bit of a bitch to you, her hand was really soft. "Y/n L/n. No need to call me your highness." You took your hand back and grabbed your phone. "What's your number?"
She raised an eyebrow, taking your phone to put her number inside. "Only text me when it comes to this." She motioned between the group. "Other than that, leave me alone."
"I'm afraid it's not going to work like that." She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. "We both may have extremely busy schedules, but in order for this to work, we're going to have to get to know each other. Meaning we're going to hang out, a lot."
______
"I have a question," You hummed, looking up from your ice cream. "How long have you been here? In LA, I mean." It had been a few days since you both agreed to do this PR stunt. You decided to take her out for some ice cream, gets some pictures for the paparazzi, and you both get to know each other.
"Few years, but I tend leave often because I miss my home and I have to travel a lot for both my job and..." You waved your hand, to signify your sport. "So, in total, not too long. Why?"
She just shrugged. "Your accent, you sound like a roadman. I thought that after a while, you're going to start using an American accent more, like Millie Bobby Brown."
You let out a loud laugh, making a lot of people look at you. "A roadman? I sound nothing like them, you Americans get everything mixed up." You crossed your arms and leaned back. "Millie Bobby Brown is constantly acting and using an American accent, it's a lot easier for her to 'lose' her accent than it is for me."
"Then do it," You raised an eyebrow. "Do an American accent."
"You don't want me to do that." You laughed, shifting in your seat. "It's really bad." Your phone buzzed, making you turn it over to see what it was. It was an article sent from your manager. "Well, would you look at that, the party's already started." You showed her the text, the first picture was of the two of you just then, you were laughing in the picture whilst Jenna ate the ice cream.
People began to crowd around the door, lights beginning to flash as paparazzi tried to take pictures of the two of you. You threw out some napkins, turning to see Jenna eyeing the door. You could sense a bit of nervousness coming from her, the way that she eyed the door. "Hey, are you okay?"
She gulped, looking at you with fear in her eyes. It was a look you had never seen before, which made you feel like you wanted to see all of her and made you want to help her with whatever she would need in life. She broke the eye contact, huffing a little as she felt a little pathetic about sharing these feelings. "I just- I'm not really used to the paparazzi yet. It's a little overwhelming." You nodded, remembering being in her place many years ago. "It's stupid, I know."
You shook your head. "Nah, I don't think so." You could see how it got denser. "This stuff is still overwhelming for me, especially when it gets this dense. Wanna know my trick?" Her eyes flickered between the crowd outside and you. "Hold my hand." She looked at you confusedly, your hand held up, itching for her to take. "If you're not ready to go through the front, I could have my driver come around to the back and we could go out that way. But I want you to take my hand, so I won't lose you. It's easy to get lost in the lights, then you get stuck." She took your hand, intertwining your fingers and holding tight.
_______
Jenna paced around her apartment, not really sure what to say. You had dropped her off 30 minutes ago. During the ride, your hands never disconnected, you talked her through dealing with the public.
You could see how this blast to fame was affecting her, it was such a big change that she wasn't ready for. You had gone through the same thing growing up, and you felt like you owe it to yourself to help someone who was clearly struggling with fame.
It didn't take you too long to get into your own house, once you dropped onto your couch, you passed out. Your best friend exited the bathroom, heading towards the kitchen. She paused when she saw your sleeping frame. You were so still, it was weird. She slowly walked towards your body, just to make sure that you were awake. She held a finger under your nose, feeling air against her finger.
Then, your phone rang. She let out a scream, not expecting it. You woke up as well, seeing a figure with green skin in front of you. You let out a scream as well before you realized it was your best friend with a face mask and towel on. "What in the fuck! You scared me!"
"You scared me!" She yelled back. Your phone rang again, making you dig around the pillows for it.
You answered it, eyeing your best friend. "Hello?"
"Y/n?"
"Hi Jenna? What's up?"
"I just- I wanted to thank you for earlier." Her voice was soft, as if she was a little shy about this. It was certainly something that you hadn't heard yet, probably because you had only known her for a few days. "I know it's like- it's not much, but it helped."
Your lips formed a closed-mouth smile, even though she wouldn't see it. "'Course, it's no problem. I'm always here to help you, paparazzi's terrible but something that you can push through."
There was a beat of silence. Jenna was biting her bottom lip, still pacing. You frowned slightly and glanced at your best friend, Mia, who was creepily observing you. "Is it always going to be that way?"
You kept your eye on your best friend, debating whether you should keep talking to Jenna or not. You hadn't told your best friend about the stunt, frankly, you weren't planning to. She had a tendency to have a hard time hiding secrets, and this was something that you couldn't expose so early on. You knew it was wrong, but you just had to. "Hold on." You got up, heading to your room. Mia eyed you as you closed the door to your room. "I don't have an answer to your question."
That caused a bit of a stir in Jenna's stomach, definitely something that she wasn't ready for. "Oh."
"That's just based on my experience. Which would be very different than yours." You sat down on your bed, gazing at the different decorations you had put up, one of them being a picture of your family.
"How so?" Jenna stopped pacing around, hoping to find some sort of comfort in your words. She sat down on her couch, pulling her knees to her chest.
You shrugged, but then remembered that she couldn't see you. "Our lives are very different, our paths to fame are almost polar opposites." You stood up to look at the picture of your family, seeing the picture perfect smiles all around. "You, you worked your way up, acting when you were young and it's all paying off as you continue to work hard. Me, on the other hand, I- I'm nepotism baby," You let out a small laugh. "I was quite literally born into this life, dealing with paparazzi and having any career handed to me. My life will always be dealing with paparazzi, considering the importance of my family to my country. Not saying yours aren't, but you get what I mean. I'm not saying there's going to be a point where you won't deal with paparazzi, but I'm trying to say that it's probably going to get better for you. They'll stop invading you and your space. When this stunts over, you'll get the praise and the awards you deserve. It'll be so worth it that the paparazzi is merely a small issue."
It was quiet. "Are you sure it's going to work?" You raised an eyebrow at the sudden uncertainty, but Jenna's mind was stuck on how it's going to end. "I have no idea how this is going to play out. I've- I think I'm too busy to even have a fake-girlfriend."
"Don't worry about it. I'll try to take care of it, and it'll work." You sighed, not even fully believing yourself. "You're an actor, treat it like any other part of yours. I'm sure that you'll be great."