"You need a date, Shiro!"
"Correction; you want me to have a date so we don't look weird. I don't need anything. Except maybe for you to pass me that mould."
Allura gave an exasperated sound, but handed him the plaster-and-hemp mass anyway.
"It's a black-tie event, Shiro, and with the business we run, there's no way you can't have a partner. It's a posterity thing; don't you want people to think your products are helpful?"
"My relationship status has nothing to do with the success of our products, Allura."
The woman crossed her arms, looking down at the man in a stained t-shirt and ripped sweatpants, trying to pry open his mould with a screwdriver and hammer. At least a dozen other successful moulds were open and stacked on the table next to him in bright, swirling colors, and three times that were stacked up in boxes near the door, ready to be shipped out.
"Clearly."
"Why don't we just go together?"
"Because I already have a date. A fake one, anyway; I begged your brother."
Allura combed through her hair with her fingertips, waiting for Shiro to look up again. Instead, he gave a grunt, and the mould made a pop.
"Keith would never go to an event like this unless you bribed him."
"I absolutely bribed him; by the way, keep an eye out, because he's got a new motorcycle to play with."
Shiro didn't look up from his work, and Allura was disappointed. She was hoping for a bigger reaction.
"I don't need a date, Allura." Shiro paraphrased, "I don't want one, there's nobody I'm interested in."
"Just fake it, Shiro. Please?"
"I've got less than a week, Allura. I'm not going to find someone to fake date in a week."
"You'll find a way. Please, Shiro; you can't go alone."
With a taught snap, the mould cracked open, and Shiro turned up to his coworker, wiping his hand on his shirt.
"I'll do what I can."
