sixteen

                                        

                                              

4 YEARS EARLIER...

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。
𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀
𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗡𝗔
JULY 3, 2015
I fiddled with the hem of my dress, my fingers twisting the fabric as I glanced around the Grammy's after-party. The energy in the room was electric. Celebrities, industry legends, people I'd admired for years. And yet, I felt completely out of place.
The only reason I was even here was because of my last name. My grandfather, director Harrison Prescott, was nominated for Best Music Film, and my sister, Lillian Prescott, was, well, Lillian Prescott. She was also presenting the award show. 
If it weren't for them, no one would have thought twice about skipping over a random 19-year-old's name on the invite list.
"Do you think my lip liner looks weird?" 
I turned to Laura, who was standing beside me, angling her phone to inspect her reflection. She'd been asking me about her makeup all night. Normally, I'd find it exhausting. But right now? I was just grateful I had her here with me.
"No. You look beautiful." I said truthfully. She smiled before giving my nose a playful boop, making me scrunch it up in response.
The room was packed, buzzing with conversations and laughter. It felt surreal, like I'd stepped into someone else's life.
"Question." Laura said suddenly, turning to me with a frown. "Why is your sister talking to Captain America?"
I followed her gaze and spotted Lillian in deep conversation with Chris Evans. 
"I think she's going to be in a movie with him. But don't tell anyone I told you." I explained with a shrug.
I meant to look away, but my gaze drifted—back to the same person I'd been stealing glances at all night. He was engaged in conversation with his friends, but it was as if my eyes had a mind of their own, constantly seeking him out. I didn't mean to look at him. I just... did.
"Just go talk to him." Laura groaned, catching on to how I kept stealing glances at the same person all night.
"No." My voice came out too quick, too shaky. "I can't. He's... scary."
"He's scary?" Laura scoffed. "Vi, he was in a boyband and literally sang What Makes You Beautiful."
"Still." 
There was no way I was going up to him. Not tonight. He had just won big, his first Grammy as a solo artist. There were probably dozens of people vying for his attention, congratulating him, trying to get a moment of his time.
"You can't one-sided eye-fuck him all night and then not say a word. This is your chance." Laura urged, clearly losing patience. 
I pressed my teeth into my bottom lip, suddenly hyperaware of how itchy my long black dress felt against my skin. Without meaning I took another quick glance across the room.
But to my surprise, when I looked at him, he was already looking at me. His friend, another member of his former boyband, was talking animatedly beside him, but his focus was elsewhere.
On me. 
The moment our eyes met, he didn't look away. Instead, he offered me a small smile.
But like the absolute idiot I was, I panicked.
My heart lurched, and before I could stop myself, I tore my gaze away from him, grabbed Laura's arm, and yanked her toward me.