At 7:05, I hear my apartment doorbell ring.

It’s him.

I hurriedly smoothen down my dress and apply another coat of lip gloss, then open the door.

Eli’s standing outside, fidding with his black tie.

I freeze in my tracks and start blushing shamelessly. Whoa.

He looks so different from the laid-back guy I know; the one who only wears polo shirts and jeans and sneakers.

Eli looks like a flipping model in his black suit and tie.

Oh wait. He is a model.

“If your eyes were lasers, you would’ve probably burnt through me by now,” Eli smirks, snapping me out of my daze.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” I mumble, surreptitiously feeling for drool on the side of my mouth. Eli chuckles.

“Don’t worry, I’m used to the fangirls,” he informs me. “Girls salivate over me every-,”

I kick him in the shin and he shuts up.

“Let’s go,” I say, and Eli leads me outside to his car

Belluve Mansion- where the party’s being held- isn’t an actual mansion. It’s just a huge, fancy building in downtown L.A. that’s notorious for being the site of post-movie premiere bottle fights between drunken celebrities, which causes the paparazzi to have a gigantic field day.

It’s a mess.

Eli pulls up his car to the red carpet leading up to the door of the huge building, and we get out. Eli hands the car keys to the valet and takes my hand. The carpet is surrounded by flashing lights and screaming journalists.

“MISS KINGSLEY! CHELSEA!” the reporteres scream, frantically trying to shove a microphone under my mouth. “Is this your new boyfriend? How long have you been dating?”

I laugh. “He’s just… a friend,” I reply, rather painfully. Ah, one day I’ll be saying, He’s my boyfriend. Or maybe, He’s my fiancé. Or maybe-

I mentally slap myself. No, Chelsea, snap out of it!

Wait, where's Eli? I turn around, looking for him, and my mouth drops open. Eli’s flirting with 3 pretty reporters, smoothing his hair nonchalantly and winking.

Oh, he is not doing this.

I stomp over to him and drag him away. “Come on, Eli,” I snarl.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks me confusedly. I huff and look away.

This party better be good. 

When we finally get inside, I’m immediately greeted by the owner of HMTZ, my station’s main studio partner. The owner of HMTZ is Day Sullivan, notorious for his loud, deep voice and annoyingly jolly attitude. “Chelsea!” he booms. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He pulls over a tall, handsome blonde man who looks about me and Eli's age.

I study the man. He has light blue eyes, a tan, and pulls off his suit pretty well. 8 out of 10.

“This is Jason Soto,” Day informs me. “He’s one of the executives at our studio.”

I raise my eyebrows. This guy's the same age as me and he’s an executive? I nod, impressed.

“He watched your beauty show and absolutely loved it! He's a fan of yours.” Day grins. Jason laughs sheepishly.

"It's nice to meet you," Jason says, smiling at me.

Hm. Not a bad smile. 9 out of 10.

I reach out my hand to shake his hand. 

And he swiftly takes my hand and kisses me lightly on the fingers.

My face turns a violent shade of cobalt. Jason looks up and winks at me. My face turns even brighter. I try and take my hand away from his lips, but someone else pulls me away from Jason first.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Eli asks Jason coolly.