Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own any aspects of Ugly Betty, although I wish I did. Especially the wardrobe department...
A Fairy Tale's Beginning
From the moment I saw him,when he walked into that Valentino photo shoot wearing a white button-down shirt and pants with such an intense crease it could puncture you if you got too close, I knew something had changed. Something was different about him that I hadn't seen (or noticed) in anyone else.
I was busy shooting some emaciated blonde wearing the new Valentino yellow sundress when I heard footsteps and an enthusiastic call of "Knock knock!"
"You're late," I said bluntly, "take off your clothes." Why was it so hard for models to be on time?
"Easy sailor, buy a girl a drink first."
I looked up in surprise, "Oh, I thought you were the underwear model..."
"Oh no no no no no! I'm here to supervise this," he paused to adjust a light, burning himself in the process, "ow!...shoot. Although it is funny that you mention that because I did take a modeling class, 'cause you know, forgot about it, put it away, can always go back and get it." At this he launched into Vogue-esque poses, even going so far as to slap his behind. Too hard apparently...as he let out a small "ow."
I laughed..I had to hand it to this guy, he was funny.
"What are you laughing at?" he shot me a look.
"You uh, you slapped your own ass too hard, that's funny."
He smiled, "Oh, yeah I guess that is pretty funny."
I stuck out my hand, "Cliff St. Paul."
Taking it, and giving it one solid shake, he said, "Marc St. James, hey, we're both Saints! Is yours fake too?" he began to chuckle.
"No."
The chuckling stopped, "Mine neither."
A voice from behind us said "Does this make me look fat?" We both turned simultaneously.
Ah, Gus, good ol' Gus. Looked even better in person than I thought. Apparently, I was not alone in this observation.
"Uhhhh...I'll sign for that package." Marc sighed.
"Well please let him be dumb too, a guy like him can't have everything." I stated, matter-of-factly.
Sure enough, I was right. He put his underwear on backwards. Dumbass.
Seeing this, Marc had taken off, assuring Gus he could help him out with his he had gone, I'd gone on shooting. But Marc was at the back of my mind, he was witty, which was a nice and rare change of pace around here, not to mention he had that quirky handsomeness going on.
Man, I love my job.
...
About an hour later, I was working over the concept when I heard, "Oh my God, what you're doing here is amazing! I totally get the concept!" my pulse seemed to quicken, not by much, but enough that it was noticeable to me.
I narrowed my eyes, "You have no idea what it's about do you?"
Marc gave an exasperated sigh, "None whatsoever."
I laughed, "Rear Window."
He just looked at me.
"Alfred Hitchcock..." I prompted.
"Never seen it."
"Really? It's amazing, I love Hitchcock! What about Psycho?"
He bunched his face up in thought, had to admit, he looked adorable that way, "Um, work for one, does that count?"
Before I could answer, we were interrupted by Gus, who said something about a movie named Saw then made a reference to a seesaw.
"Wow."
"I know!" Marc said, giving another lustful sigh.
"Okay," I said, returning to the subject, "You have to go with me tomorrow night. To see Psycho at the Film Forum."
"Oh, that sounds like fun!" he replied, looking a little surprised that it even sounded like it would be.
My pulse quickened a little more, life is about risks after all, so I took it a step further. "Maybe we could, grab a beer before?"
"Uh sure, if by beer you mean appletini."
I exhaled, relieved. I had a date, with this guy, who seemed so completely opposite in every way, yet he agreed.
"Well, I have to get back to work, I'll see you."
He finger waved bye, and I smiled, turning to my camera once again.
...
I kept clenching and unclenching my fists on the way over. I had tried on at least ten different shirts, trying to look absolutely right. It's not like I had much selection either. Looking stylish, never really a top priority for me, but this date was.
The elevator ride was more of the same. Clench, unclench, clench, unclench, smooth shirt, check breath, repeat.
I heard the ding telling me was at my destination. Mode offices.
No one was really there, I heard voices coming from my left. I turned and looked, hearing the voice. That extravagant, flamboyant voice I had heard only a mere six hours prior. He was talking to some blonde woman, with an annoyingly grating voice. Apparently, they were done speaking, and turning on her heel, she walked right by me, her aura of designer perfume nearly choking me.
He was alone now. I took a deep breath, and continued walking.
"Hey." I said.
He opened his mouth as if to say hi, but didn't actually say anything as he rose from his rolling chair.
I looked down at what he was wearing, it was a striped purple suit with a matching bow tie.
"Wow, someone's all dressed up."
Marc smiled, and, running his hands over the fabric, sang out, "Oh, new cashmere!"
I gestured to my ensemble, "Old...cat....hair." Oh God. Did I say 'cat hair'??
Thankfully, we both laughed.
"So," I continued, "listen, after the movie, maybe we can go the village-"
"Oh!" he cut me off, "yeah, right, ugh, I meant to call you. I'm going to have to take a rain check on Pyscho. You are NOT going to believe this, but I asked out Gus!"
My heart dropped, "For...tonight?" Please say no.
"Yeah! And he said yes!" as if somehow doubting this, he gave a little squeal, "I'm going out with an underwear model! Are you dying? I'm dying!"
Heat flooded my face, of course. It couldn't be that easy. I took a risk, and ended up getting hurt. What else was new?
I gave a nervous laugh, "Yeah, yeah, I'm dying, I thought...we were going out..."
Marc shrugged, "Well, yeah, but Gus and I are going on a date, you and I were just gonna...." he trailed off. I'm sure my face looked like exactly what I was feeling. Hurt.
"Oh."
"No! No, 'oh'," I rushed, "It's fine, we weren't...at all."
"Cliff."
I had to get out of there, "I gotta go, have fun on your date." I turned and tried my best to do a dignified walk back to the elevator. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to break out into a mad dash.
Miraculously, I made it. I just wanted to get out of there, pretend this night never happened. I pushed the down button, and stared at my shoes as the door closed. I didn't want to look at myself in the reflection, I wouldn't like the person I saw there. Not tonight.
Suddenly I heard the doors retract, and I looked up.
"Cliff, I am so sorry."
God, just let me leave. I thought. "No, listen, it's fine, just a misunderstanding. We...never need to talk about this again." I pushed the down button again. This time the doors shut, and the last thing I saw was Marc turning away.
In those crucial seconds, I realized something. Life sucks. Big time. I took a risk, it didn't work. But this time, I wasn't going down without a fight. I'd been screwed over too many times.
I opened the doors, seeing Marc's retreating figure still. "You know, we ARE going to talk about this again." I called. He turned, surprised, and looked at me. Standing ramrod straight, in his expensive suit.
"I don't know, what planet you're from," I said as I walked toward him, "but when someone asks you out for drinks, and a movie...that's a date. And the only reason you didn't think so was because it was me."
"That's not true..." Marc said softly.
"Oh, come on! We both know that I don't have 'muscle tone' or use 'products', and for some reason I'm now doing annoying air quotes." As I did when the terms 'muscle tone' and 'products' came up.
"Stop it." he laughed, smiling.
This infuriated me, "You're such a cliche!" I yelled, though not loudly. "You and Gus? What is that? That's beauty, and...beauty! That's not a story! But 'Beauty and the Beast'? That's a fairy tale."
"I'm not dating Gus because of his looks, we had a real connection, we laugh together." Marc stated defensively.
"WE laugh together!"I pointed out, a little desperately. Why wasn't he getting it? "Let me tell you something. In twenty years, that guy candy, is gonna turn into this." I motioned to my stomach, "I just...got there a little sooner."
With that, I turned and walked to elevator again, more confidently. Pushing the button and glancing back, I saw Marc still standing there.
"You know something Marc? I thought there was more to you. It's my mistake." The elevator doors opened, and I was gone.
...
I was back in my apartment, popcorn on one side of me, remote on the another. Five to be exact. Damn tivo's. Honestly, how many remotes do you need for one television?
Placing my feet on the end table, and popping a few popcorn in my mouth, I turned on Psycho. Hell, I wasn't going to let some guy ruin my movie night was I? Of course not. I shook my head at the thought.
But, I couldn't help thinking of him anyway. He seemed so, different. I didn't know how else to explain it. My pulse quickened a bit, again. I sighed and turned my attention back to my movie.
About ten minutes in, I looked at the clock. 8:30. Marc was on his date with Gus now. Probably having a great time, I could just imagine them now. They seemed to fit, image-wise. But something was wrong, a piece of the puzzle was missing, at least that's what it felt like. I couldn't place it.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, a tentative kind of knock.
I was snapped out of my painful reverie, spilling about half my popcorn all over my couch.
Pausing the TV, I went to answer the door. Not to say I was all that eager to. Hitchcock and rejection'll do that to you.
Opening the door, there he was. Clad in his expensive suit, shined shoes, curly hair, and guilty expression.
"Hi." he said.
"What are you doing here?" I narrowed my eyes.
"I..." he rubbed the back of his neck, "okay, I've been out here for at least ten minutes, trying to figure out what to say, or why I'm even here. And the fact is, I still don't know. But, maybe I'm not supposed to know." He paused.
I just looked at him.
"Will you help me figure it out...Cliff?" Marc looked down sheepishly.
I did a single, inaudible chuckle to myself, and hooked my index finger under his chin, lifting his gaze to meet mine.
"Come on in, Beauty."
At this, he broke into a grin. The grin I would soon love, cherish, and miss.
That's when I realized, that's what had changed. In my mind's eye, I could see us, standing eye to eye, and I could feel it.
The puzzle piece had clicked into place. It was as if everything had come together.
I knew, in that moment, in that small second of life, that I had found something incredible. And it came in a cashmere suit.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed my first chapter of Marc/Cliff. Nothing is new, it's just a story of their relationship, I really enjoyed writing it, so review, let me know what you think!