a sigalert nightmare
Title: Sportin' Sunglasses
Genre: General, bit of fluff & friendship
Rating: PG
Notes: Inspiration from: Grey in LA by Loudon Wainwright III
The faux gold bracelets jangled as she shook his hand firmly, smiling through pink, shiny lips and nodding her head agreeably as her manager introduced her. He withdrew his hand, resuming his stance, feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped one over the other in front of him. He quirked a hint of a smile in greeting before losing expression altogether.
When her manager finally left them alone, she turned her smile on him once more. "Feel like shopping?" she asked, already out the door and slipping a pair of large lens sunglasses over her face. He followed suit, taking his own glasses out of his grey suit pocket and shading his eyes from the California glare.
Mia frowned at him openly, a large straw tote filled to the brim dangling by a hand.
"Sorry, miss. I can call one of the other-"
"No. I'd really only rather work with you." She twisted her mouth, thinking and swinging her filled to the brim bag over her bare feet, toes painted a bright orange shade that sparkled. "We can stop by your place so you can change. Where do you live?"
"The valley."
"Oh." That was too far out of the way, opposite the direction they were going, and well, it was the valley. "I suppose we can swing by a store to pick some stuff up for you first."
Kalan hedged. He didn't feel like becoming a live dress-up doll, but he also knew better than to argue with his employer.
Mia saw his hesitation and sighed with exaggeration. "You go pick something up. We're going to the beach tomorrow."
Kalan nodded silently.
Mia looked pointedly at him when he didn't leave. "Go shopping. You have the day off," she said, waving him off with her hand.
Kalan paused. Mia rolled her eyes. "I don't need a bodyguard all the time, Kalan. I'll see you tomorrow." This time, she exited the room, effectively dismissing him so he couldn't nonverbally question her any more.
Mia's eyebrows rose as she finished her evaluation of him. The white ribbed tank top and the black board shorts were fine, but sneakers?
"At the beach?" she questioned.
"In case I have to chase somebody down," he said quite simply.
Mia reached into her tote and tossed a pair of black flip-flops into his chest. "No chasing, Kalan. I'm just trying to avoid having my picture taken and the creepier of the fans, okay?" She wondered if all his sneakers looked as if he'd never worn them before. "Also, no more suits. This is L.A. You'll sweat through every suit you have before the week's over."
Walking next to Mia in flip-flops, Kalan scanned the area. Already people were glancing at the actress in her yellow and white checked sundress. When it slipped off her shoulders to her feet, Kalan watched as people began holding up phones and cameras to take pictures of her in her orange bikini.
Kalan's eyes roved efficiently over the crowd, trying to spot a professional camera. Settling down on a red towel, he glanced at Mia lying face down on her towel, which swirled circles in white and various shades of blue. Gold balls hung onto the ends of her bikini ties, and as he titled his head back into the Malibu sun, Kalan wondered if they tinkled when she moved.
Her deeply bright blue dress hung from her shoulders in a cowl-neck, and her thick gold band of a bracelet matched her strappy five-inch heels. She entered the restaurant to meet her friends but couldn't say no when a seven-year-old girl with braided pigtails and a missing front tooth asked for her autograph.
Kalan had to step in when multiple people persisted in asking. Using one arm to push through the crowd, Kalan's other arm guarded Mia from being jostled. Making it to the car, he scolded her for signing things when she was on her own time.
"I know," she sighed, turning her face away from the window. "But I hate saying no to kids."
Mia smiled winningly as a silver satin heel eased out of the limo, followed by bare leg. Her white one-shouldered dress zigzagged down her body, ending in an asymmetrical hem. Gold sequins mimicked the trails of a firecracker on one side.
"Your coat, miss?" Kalan reminded her in a low voice as he held the door open for her.
Mia laughed her Hollywood laugh, showing her pearly white teeth but not opening red lips too wide. "It's 80 degrees out, Kalan. I'll be fine."
By the end of the night, the birthday girl had drunk far too much. Slightly weary with effort, Kalan watched as another guy tried to work his way into the VIP section, dancing with Mia on the other side of the velvet rope. Mia's arms moved rhythmically above her hand, while her partner's hands slid up from her waist. Giggling, Mia jerked away, but he only reached for her once more.
Kalan stepped in before contact was reestablished and stared at the man until he went away. Behind him, Mia maintained her balance and movement by continuing to dance while leaning heavily into Kalan's back.
When he turned, he caught her as she stumbled and she smiled as last call was announced. Inclining her head, he thought he saw the tiniest bit of green liner smeared in the very corner of her eye. Before he could look closer, she pushed off of him, grabbing her friends' hands and leading them to the exit.
Kalan stood behind the girls as they huddled together, rubbing their arms for warmth, waiting for the limo to find enough space to pull up. His eyes found a red blinking bank sign, announcing the date, the time, and the current temperature in rotation.
It had dipped to a chilly 66 degrees.
Mia pulled her white cap lower over her face, before shoving her fists into her pink velour hoodie, only half of the matching ensemble. She smiled with strain, softly saying, "No autographs right now. I'm just trying to pick something up from the store."
Two men groaned in annoyance and disbelief. Mia tried to block out the things they were muttering about when a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, grasping some hair along the way. Wrenching away from the weak grip, Mia whipped about, but Kalan was already there. "No autographs today," he said firmly with some menace, holding on to some kid's thin wrist.
He let go and the crowd dissipated, casting dirty looks at the couple. Kalan tilted his head questioningly towards the Trader Joe's entrance, and Mia led the way with resignation.
Touching her pulled back hair with light fingertips and tugging at the top of her strapless maroon dress once more, Mia stepped into the flash of cameras. Smiling, nodding, and posing along the red carpet, she could make out Kalan's suited silhouette over the heads of the photographers, outlined by a shade of orange cast only during particularly smoggy sunsets. The pollution almost blurred the fading sunlight, making it even easier for Mia to see his dark solid form until a flash got her right in the eyes.
Blinking away the spots, she smiled and turned gracefully, feeling the material around her middle tighten in protest, allowing the slit in her dress to fall open and reveal her matching footwear. She cast a last look over her shoulder, baring her back for the cameras and balancing seemingly effortlessly in her stilettos.
Mia looked up at the sky, as clear as it could possibly get on a nice night on Sunset.
"A star!" she exclaimed with more excitement than he thought was necessary.
Kalan glanced at her, a classic gray plaid scarf wrapped around her neck, her hands tucked warmly into the bright red A-line coat she wore with the gold buttons all done up.
He looked up and found her star. It blinked blue at him.
When he turned to her to comment, she was already frowning at him, like he'd somehow changed her star from beautiful to a plane.
Her blonde hair fluttered in the chilly Santa Ana wind, dancing in waves behind her. The next time they were out on a clear night, he found himself glancing upwards and touching her shoulder to silently point out the lone star in the distance.
Mia clutched the steering wheel of her car in frustration, stepping on the brake pedal that she had been utilizing too often for the past five minutes. Stuck on the freeway weaving between dirty mountains, the car had finally reached a point where she could see down into the valley. It had taken an hour to get to this point. With no carpool lane, the 405 usually sucked, but today, with the rightmost lane closed because of some slight crumbling that was being called a mudslide, the 405 was a nightmare.
It was another reason Mia didn't go to the valley. No good normally came from it.
Inching along, staring at all the red lights blinking in front of her and the white headlights coming at her, holding in curses when people swerved to cut her off, she gazed up at the Getty Center sitting in the side of the mountain, reminding herself once more that she'd like to go there and take in the art. She said that to herself every time she passed it.
As much as she hated driving in the rain on top of driving to the valley, Mia idly willed the light drizzle to strengthen to a full downpour. It would get her out of going to West Hollywood tonight. Rain was always a good excuse for staying in.
Mia nearly floored it when they managed to make it past the multitude of cars trying to squeeze into the lanes heading to the 101. She managed to make it to the eclectic furniture store buried in the middle of the valley before it closed.
Kalan had contented himself with gazing out the window while his charge drove him around; it didn't feel so unnatural to him anymore. Additionally, the drive to the valley was only slightly worse than what he normally encountered, and the worse part of this particular trip was when Mia sped off after the freeway split. Instead of being one of those L.A. drivers who drove ridiculously slowly during the rain, it was his luck that Mia was of the kind that either forgot it was raining, didn't care, or believed that the faster she got to her destination, the safer she would be since she'd be off the road.
After Kalan had helped Mia stash a nightstand made of recycled materials that looked like it was covered by various newspapers into the trunk, they sat in the car momentarily.
"I can drop you off at your place," Mia suggested, knowing her manager had picked him due to car trouble on Kalan's part. "I'm not trying to go out tonight, so your shift would be over."
Kalan looked at her sideways. "You sure you'll make it back through the 405 by yourself?"
Mia started the car, grinning. "As long as everyone else gets the hell off the road."
When it's grey in LA
I sure like it that way
Mia stood in the doorway of his apartment after she'd hesitatingly accepted his only partially awkward invitation to come in. When she bent over to take off her shoes, he waved his hand at her.
"You don't have to do that."
Mia looked at the shoe rack, standing neat and full by the door. Slipping off her foot apparel, she placed them next to his multitude of shoes and followed him in navy-blue socks to his living room.
Sitting delicately on his beige couch, she caught the remote as he tossed it at her. Flipping through the channels of reality tv and news of more slight mudslides and the resulting traffic accidents, she settled on an episode of Mythbusters. Accepting a cup of hot tea the way he'd learned she liked it, she settled more comfortably into one side of the couch, while he leaned against the other, propping his feet up onto the wooden coffee table.
During commercials, her eyes wandered over the tan carpet, the brown bookcases, the white nightstand, the black desk, and the overall tame appearance of Kalan's home. She glanced at him in between taking everything in, noting how well his daily uniform of dark wash jeans and fitted grey shirt blended with simplicity of his home.
She smiled, thinking of her own black leggings and dark blue tunic with lace hem.
Catching her smile, he was about to ask about it when Mia's phone rang. Watching the Mythbusters prepare for another explosion, he was only partially listening as Mia tiredly denied invitations to Sunset, Westwood, West Hollywood, and a private party in Beverly Hills because she was busy. Clicking her bright pink phone close, she tossed it into her purse, which she placed on the floor behind the couch, out of sight. She glanced outside as the rain began pelting the windows with sharp sounds, splattering raindrops on the window that eventually plungeed to the ground in joyful fat drops.
"Busy?" Kalan questioned.
Mia bit her bottom lip, devoid of any lipstick or gloss. "I don't like going out in the rain."
Kalan lifted his beer back up to his lips before telling her, "You can hang out as long as you want. Didn't make any plans – figured I'd be out with you anyway."
Separated by the entire middle of a couch, watching Mythbusters in a comfortingly plain apartment, drinking beer and tea, Mia's eyes met Kalan's. She wondered why she'd never noticed how the unique color of his eyes simultaneously blended and contrasted beautifully with his ordinary self.
The only color he seemed to need lay entirely in the green eyes he shaded with sunglasses nearly every day.
She smiled shyly at Kalan's curious look as her purple booties waited patiently by the door, surrounded by black dress shoes, brown loafers, and various white sneakers, perfectly content next to the pair of black flip-flops, not missing the normal array of colors they were normally surrounded by.
'Cause there's way too much sunshine round here
I don't know about you
I get so sick of blue skies
Wherever they always appear
end