Ben's relationship with Rey had always been a tumultuous one. Six years ago, First Order Pictures had acquired a small distributor, Resistance Films. That acquisition shut down RF's London office, and while most of their former employees had decided to stay in London and find new jobs, Rey had not.

In fact, Rey was the only remaining employee from RF, since she, unlike everyone else, wanted the chance to come to the US and try her hand at Hollywood.

Maybe that's what started the animosity between them. Ben had grown up in the fast-paced bubble of Hollywood. His father, Han Solo, was an actor—never A-List, but always with a steady role on a string of primetime shows—and his mother, Leia Organa, along with his uncle, Luke Skywalker, ran Skywalker Studios.

Well, until Skywalker Studios had been sold to First Order. It was how Ben had ended up working for Theodore Snoke, a Wall Street veteran who wanted to try his luck in the film business. And while the man was smart and excellent with money, he didn't know what went into making a good film.

But Ben? Well, Ben was an industry expert. And when Rey came along, spouting her very European views on how the industry worked, he knew things were never going to be easy. Not when she had the very British viewpoint that traditional theater was some beacon of light, like the answer to any of the problems in the industry.

Ben looked at theater like a pain in his fucking ass. Broadway meant his talent taking roles that prevented them from doing adequate press for his films.

Of course, that was a very broad explanation for why they didn't get along. Sure, their perspective on the industry led to some butting heads, but overall, it was their work ethic.

Ben had a very strict schedule he abided by. Every morning, he was up at five am. He spent an hour at the gym, showered, and drank the same protein powder-packed smoothie. By 7am, he was watching the morning news, reading Page Six, and on calls with the New York office.

He never arrived in the office later than 8:30.

His team was fine—he liked them, he hand-picked them, blah blah blah. But they were co-workers and nothing more. Even just having bi-weekly meetings with them was painful enough.

But Rey and her, as he so eloquently put it, merry band of morons were always hanging together. From what Ben could tell, they had bagels every Wednesday and Fit Fridays where they did yoga during lunch. Their intern was always venturing out for cookies or cupcakes or some ludicrous snack for their obnoxiously long meetings. And Rey?

Well, she was the Michael Scott type.

Her co-workers were her family.

Ben had literally worked with his family in the past. It wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

And at a personal level, Ben couldn't understand her enthusiasm. Maybe it was sad, but he no longer looked at movies with the same sparkle as he had when he was a child. Now, they represented work, and to Snoke, dollar signs. Actors were his talent and nothing more. A part of the job.

But Rey still got excited working with certain filmmakers and always went above and beyond to show off their films to her friends and family.

Maybe her love for her work made him a bit jealous.

Or maybe he was just painfully attracted to her.

Because, frankly, Ben was starting to wonder if he had made some unconscious celibacy vow. He was going on eighteen months without sex.

He was even starting to consider asking Bazine out if it meant ending his dry spell.

That's how he knew things were getting bad.

Except, who was he kidding? Asking Bazine out to dinner just to fuck her wasn't hitting rock bottom.

Kissing Rey after an intense argument in his office was.

So, he did what any good Solo man did when they fucked up.

He never apologized and simply pretended it didn't happen.

To his relief, Rey did exactly the same.

-x-x-x-

Perhaps it was lucky that after the kiss he shared with Rey, work got crazy. First Order had six films in pre-production, two filming—one in Budapest and one in Seoul—a new trailer dropping for a Lando Calrissian action flick that was due out in four months, and of course, the premieres for A Rogue Heart, their we-better-win-a-fuck-ton-of-Oscars-for-the-money-spent-on-this film.

Premieres, to the general public, seemed like a ton of fun. They were, for all intents and purposes, the definition of glamour for Hollywood, despite if they actually occurred in Los Angeles. It was famous people, the vast majority movie stars, congregating in fancy dresses and stylish tuxes to walk a red carpet. And, for him on the business side, it meant most of the hard work was done—the promotional period was nearing its end and the film would finally be released in theaters.

But for Ben, it meant traveling—which itself was exhausting and forced him to abandon his usual routine—and dealing with talent.

Phasma, his work-out buddy who lived a very normal life in the IT sector, could never understand Ben's frustration with dealing with actors. She thought there was nothing cooler in the world than sharing a glass of champagne with some A-List actor, discussing Oscar chances and box office tracking.

And sure, maybe Ben did get some enjoyment out of that, but it was always overshadowed by his memories of what it took to get to that point.

The demands.

The endless, insane, astronomically expensive, demands.

For this film alone, First Order had been required to hire a stylist for Jyn, something they normally did only for premieres and press days. But Jyn's agent screamed and shouted that his client also needed to be styled for the mundane things—her trips to the airport, her strolls to get coffee, her walks to the car. So, somehow, First Order had been paying to style her for a fucking month.

Or, that Cassian had just been cast in some super hero flick, so First Order had to pay to bring his trainer along for the entire press tour. And also, his nutritionist. And for some fucking reason, some spirituality coach.

Fuck, Ben hated talent.

Which is why when he got a call from Jyn's agent only twenty-four hours before the London premiere, he could feel the sinking in his stomach.

Ben had only landed a few hours ago, joined by Hux. Rey and her second-in-command, Finn, were also along for the tail end of the press tour, starting with the premiere in London, then in New York, and then back to LA.

Then Ben was taking a fucking vacation.

At any rate, after a ten-hour flight from LA with Hux and Finn, he was ready to hit the gym and get his mind in the game. Rey had flown out a few days beforehand, apparently using a few vacation days to catch up with some old friends in London.

So, Ben abandoned Hux and Finn to settle into the hotel, sold on the idea of running a few miles on the treadmill in the hotel gym, when he got said call.

The call only lasted five minutes. He told her agent that he'd call him back with a definitive answer.

Then, he jacked up the speed on the treadmill, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

Fuck, he was angry.

And fuck Han's rule.

As soon as he finished his run, he had a bone to pick with Rey.

-x-x-x-

Ben managed a quick shower and forced his body into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before storming across the ninetieth floor of their hotel. Once at Rey's room, he pounded on the door, already cursing the possibility that maybe, given their few free hours, she wouldn't be in.

But, thankfully, she was, and the door flew open, showing Rey in more casual attire than he had ever seen. Her long brown hair was pinned back in a braid, and instead of one of her usual power suits, she wore an Oxford sweatshirt and a pair of leggings.

Her appearance left him momentarily speechless.

That was, until, she raised her eyebrow, as if in mock challenge.

"I got off the phone with Saw Gerrera about an hour ago," Ben explained casually, before pushing his way into her hotel room, pleased by the way her eyes narrowed at the mention of Jyn's agent, "Any idea what he wanted to discuss?"

Rey cleared her throat. "Just get on with it, Solo."

Ben collapsed into one of the comfortable chairs, his eyes drifting to the large windows and the London streets. "Well, imagine my surprise when Saw explains, in rather explicit terms, that Jyn must have a private jet fly her to New York, then to LA, and then back to London."

He ran a hand through his damp hair and continued, "I had to, of course, remind Saw that Jyn had first class seats for all of her flights, something that had been agreed upon months ago."

With a glance at Rey, he scowled. "So, when I asked him why the new demands, he kindly informed me that Cassian was given the same treatment."

The way Rey clenched her fists both aggravated him and put him on the path towards a semi. "Yet, if I recall our contract negotiations, Cassian was also offered first class seats. So, I ask you as your superior Rey, what has changed?"

"Cassian was practically mauled by fans on his flight to London!" Rey explained, now pacing around her hotel room, "His agent called and demanded that we get a private jet for the rest of his travel."

"Of course he was mauled!" Ben practically hissed, "The man refuses to wear a fucking baseball cap or sunglasses! He walks around with a neon sign practically pointing at him."

Rey pinched her nose. "What did you want me to do, Ben? Tell Krennic that we don't give a fuck about his client?"

Ben jumped to his feet. "No, Rey. What I would have wanted you to do was fucking call me!"

"You were on your flight!"

"And an email wouldn't have sufficed?!"

She frowned and threw up her hands. "You want me to be self-sufficient and do my job, then get angry when I make decisions without running them by you!"

"Yes, well this decision is going to cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars!"

She made a face. "You're over exaggerating—"

He scoffed. "Oh, I am most certainly not! Do you have any idea how expensive it is to charter a flight? We can't put Cassian and Jyn on the same plane, so we're looking at two flights to New York, two to LA, and then Jyn back to London. And, not to mention, you've now set a precedent for any future films we have with them!"

"Alright then, Solo," She spat out his name with a practiced sort of hatred, "What would your solution have been had I emailed you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, for starters, it would not have been immediately agreeing to Krennic's demands!" He rubbed at his eyes, suddenly wishing he had time to crack open one of the complimentary Kenobi whiskey bottles their sponsor had sent along, "We would have figured out alternatives! Body guards, private gates at the airport, maybe one chartered flight—but definitely not giving into such an expensive demand!"

Rey scrunched up her face, making her reddened cheeks look even more attractive in the afternoon light of the hotel room. "Why even bloody have a team Ben? Why was I even flown out? Same with Finn, huh?" She shook her head and crossed her arms, "It's not like you fucking need us. You'll just do everything yourself. Ben knows best."

"I do, Rey. I've been dealing with talent since you were in fucking middle school."

That got her to snort. "Oh, of course! I forgot! Ben Solo is a Hollywood prodigy! You should have just gone all out and been an agent! Then you really would have sold your soul to the devil."

He shook his head. "You know what your problem is? You—"

"I don't even need to answer! You'll just tell me."

Ben took a step forward. "You can't separate work from your personal life. You treat talent and their management like they're your fucking friends. And newsflash Rey, they're not. All anyone fucking wants is a private jet, or a styling budget, or more money on the backend. Not a fucking smiling studio publicist."

With a snarl, Rey took a step towards him, her eyes furious. "At least I fucking have friends!" She shrieked, her hazel eyes blown wide, "At least I have fucking people I hang out with and enjoy spending time with. Because you certainly don't have fucking friends. It's why all you do is work."

Ben wasn't moved. "I work because you don't do your job."

And then something interesting happened. It was a blur really, but looking back, Ben could have sworn that Rey tried to slap him. That she had raised her perfectly manicured hand, ready to slap him silly.

But instead, he found himself kissing her again, their lips locked in a steamy embrace. There was far too much tongue and teeth and a very clear battle for dominance by two very strong personalities. She dug her hands into his damp hair, still warm from his shower, and he hoisted her up, wrapping her toned legs around his hips.

Ben growled into her mouth and walked her into the wall, pressing his body against hers. And it was quite a contrast—his hardened edges, thick thighs, and strong arms against her soft, creamy skin.

He felt like he was reliving his teenage years, kissing her back with whatever he could muster, grinding his hips into her as if release would fix every problem in his life.

And maybe it would.

A throaty moan from her end had him harden fully in his pants, and suddenly all he could think about was getting her naked. He wanted to see every inch of her smooth skin. He wanted to kiss and nip and bite at every exposed piece. He wanted—no needed—to show her that he was in charge.

In all ways and in everything.

But before he could act on his desire, his phone rang, the ominous ringtone meant for one person and one person alone.

He cursed and pulled away.

"It's Snoke," He grunted out, still holding Rey close, the two of them panting.

She simply nodded, eyes wide and glassy, as he set her down. He ran a hand through his hair and turned to her.

"This isn't over."

And then he was gone, desperately trying to forget the feel of her skin in time for whatever verbal lashing he'd get from Snoke in only moments.

-x-x-x-

"FINN!" Ben roared, storming down the side lobby of the Jedi Theatre, the black of his tuxedo looking menacing in the soft, glamorous light, "Where the fuck is Rey?"

The man in question took a step away from some of the premiere personnel, who based on their badges, were in charge of handing out press credentials. Like Ben, Finn was expertly dressed in a tux, but unlike Ben, he was actually working the nitty gritty of the event.

Finn cleared his throat and clipped the walkie talkie to his waist. "She was doing her rounds. Making sure Jyn and Cassian's teams didn't need anything." With a polite goodbye to the staff he was talking with, Finn walked away, forcing Ben to follow him. "Jyn arrived about ten minutes ago."

"That's why I'm looking for Rey," Ben seethed, before checking his phone yet again, "Or should I blame you? Gerrera is livid. The number one question press was told not to ask was about her relationship with Cassian. Would you like to explain to me how that was the first thing The Guardian asked?"

Finn groaned and pinched his nose, the interaction apparently news to him. "Ah, fuck. Why did it have to be Jyn? She's a thousand times worse to deal with than Cassian."

Ben cursed and again checked his phone. "Well, it happened. And I'd like to fucking know how! Where in god's name is—"

His words were cut off by the reappearance of the woman in question. Rey strolled in, all bronze skin and long legs, her black gown billowing behind her. Her soft curls were intricately tied up in three buns, weaved with strands of pearls.

In fact, Ben was certain she could walk the red carpet herself, and the photographers wouldn't be any wiser.

She looked like a movie star.

But, even if his cock wanted to admire her, he had a job to do.

"God dammit, Rey! Where the fuck have you been?" He hissed, before storming towards her, "Jyn is throwing a fucking hissy fit and screaming that she's not going to go to the New York or LA premiere now!"

Rey narrowed her eyes and pressed one manicured finger into Ben's chest. "Where have I been? How about where the fuck have you been?"

She glanced at Finn. "Finn, be a doll and get me a water and the medic. We have a code yellow."

Without missing a beat, Finn groaned and stormed away, cursing about how awful code yellows were. Ben, however, was torn between confusion and irritation.

"You just up and disappeared!" Ben growled, before pulling out his phone to send a quick text to Hux about his whereabouts, "Jyn is throwing a hissy fit. She was asked about—"

Rey let out a terse laugh and stormed off, forcing Ben to follow her long-legged strides. "Oh, fuck Jyn. We have a bigger problem on our hands."

"Oh? What could possibly be bigger than Jyn throwing a hissy fit?"

"Well, Jyn already walked the carpet. Cassian got pissed in his hotel room and proceeded to vomit all over himself on the ride over. Now we owe a cleaning fee for our car service, are trying to find a tux that Cassian can slip into in the next half hour and are attempting to sober him up enough so that he can bloody walk!"

Ben cursed and a ran a hand through his once perfectly set hair. "Where is Cassian now?"

"Back at the hotel. I made a few calls. A new tux is on its way. He's being treated by a doctor there and we'll have a medic on standby here."

For a moment, and only a moment, Ben let his eyes travel the length of Rey's body, admiring her exposed skin. Given other circumstances, he'd be far more interested in admiring her beauty, but unfortunately for him, this film was going to be the death of him.

"I refuse to work with these two again," Ben grumbled, before barking a drink order at a passing staff member, "They're making my life a fucking living hell."

Rey snorted and stopped walking. The glare she gave Ben was positively lethal. "We shouldn't have worked with either of them to begin with. Jyn is a diva and Cassian's drinking problems made production a nightmare."

She shook her head angrily and again poked at Ben's chest. "But you and Snoke just see fucking dollar signs."

"That's how you succeed in this industry, Rey," He spat, before wrapping his hand around her wrist and pulling it away from his chest, "You make films with people that are relevant. Our audience doesn't give a shit if Jyn is a bitch or Cassian is a drunk. They see their two favorite movie stars and buy fucking tickets."

Not taking the hint, Rey ripped her hand away and shoved at Ben's chest. "That's bloody easy for you to say! You don't have to worry about getting these fucking actors to do press junkets! Jyn won't bloody talk about Cassian. Do you know how fucking hard it is to get members of the press to interview a star when they can't ask about her co-star?"

Ben shrugged. "You just need a tighter leash then. I would have—"

"Oh, please tell me more of what you would have done!" Rey nearly screamed, before giving Ben another rather hard shove, "I'm so bloody sick of hearing about how much better of a job you do than me!"

Her screaming was enough for him. Ben grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the hallway, ignoring his ringing phone that was likely Hux complaining about something. At the sight of a supply closet, he opened the door and pushed her inside, before following.

As soon as the door slammed shut, he glared down at her. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, Rey," He growled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, "I'm your fucking boss and it's about time you treat me as such."

"The only thing I want to treat you like is a fucking dick." She hissed back, her eyes furious in the dim light seeping in from underneath the door.

Ben couldn't help the chuckle that vibrated through his body. "You can treat me like a dick, Rey. Is that what you want? To use my body?" At the way her eyes widened, Ben took a step forward, his lips twitching into a smirk, "I'd be happy to use yours."

"I hate you," She spat out, before frantically moving her hands to his belt, "But maybe that's all you're bloody good for."

Despite glaring at him with enough fire to burn, Rey managed to drop his trousers, her hands jumping up his thighs to skim the soft black briefs he wore. She dug her perfectly manicured nails into the skin, not enough to pierce the skin but enough to have his cock jump at the sensation.

"So, what will it be?" She spat out, her hands pushing the fabric of his shirt to his stomach, "Now I get to find out if that asshole attitude of yours is because you're compensating for having a tiny cock."

Her words actually made him laugh, given how ludicrous the suggestion even was. He simply offered her a lazy smirk. "Go ahead, Rey. Would you like to see what I'm about to fuck you with?"

She snarled at him, the response unsurprisingly causing his cock to twitch again. Rey appeared to notice and took the movement as invitation to drop his briefs. And so she did, stepping back in surprise as his full length bounced forward, perhaps as hard as he had even been.

"Of course," She muttered, the words whispered practically to herself. Not wasting any time, she wrapped her tanned hand around his cock, giving him a delicious squeeze that almost had him cumming right then and there.

Apparently, his unconscious vow of celibacy had left him constantly on the verge of ecstasy. Or maybe just seeing the angry gaze Rey shot him as her hand worked up and down his cock was something straight out of a dream of his.

But, as much as he would have loved to just watch her work his cock in her hands, perhaps even between her delicious lips, he knew they had a small window of time. There was still a premiere going on outside that supply closet, and Hux and Finn could only be relied on so much.

So, intent on not wasting any time, he slammed his lips back on hers, his hands moving to her hips. As they shared kisses loaded with anger and years of tension and a ferocity that Ben could only describe as very Rey, he moved the silky fabric of her gown to rest at her stomach.

Given different circumstances, he would have gladly exposed her breasts and spent an admirable amount of time fondling them. But, knowing they'd eventually be forced to return to work, and the complexity of the zig-zagged straps resting on her back, Ben was smart enough to leave her likely gorgeous tits alone.

But with her gown shoved up, he was exposed to beautiful tan skin and a scrap of black lace on her hips, one that would forever be seared into his memory.

Who did she think she was, showing up to a work event wearing a lacy black thong that had no business even being referred to as underwear?

Well, he quickly decided that she'd have to return to work without them on and ripped the scrap of fabric straight from her body. Her shriek of surprise only enthralled his cock more, his appendage now with a mind of its own, pointing directly at her exposed skin.

"Fuck," He hissed out, letting his mouth drop to her jaw and neck, "Those aren't really appropriate for work, are they?"

Rey scoffed but let out a soft moan as he began to nip at her collar bone. "And going knickerless is?"

He grumbled and gave her a harsh kiss, before lifting her into his arms. He smirked and set her ass on one of the shelves, maneuvering his way between her willowy legs. "Boss's orders," He purred, one of his hands slipping between her legs.

And what a beautiful sight that was. Sure, the supply closet offered minimum light, only a dim glow from underneath the door giving any illumination, but even under those circumstances Ben could see how gorgeous she was.

Soft, pink, wet, and all his. He fingers began to expertly play with her flesh, his thumb eagerly pressing against her clit as two thick fingers began to penetrate her tight form.

"Fuck," He moaned again, his mouth moving back to claim her lips in a kiss, "God, I want to taste you."

Rey jerked her hips forward and let out a gasp of surprise, or pleasure, or frustration. Ben wasn't entirely sure, but the way she wiggled her hips and pulled at his tie told him she was desperate for something.

Something only he could offer.

"That's it, Rey," He growled against her hair, his fingers continuing to play with her damp flesh, "You ready for my cock? That's all I'm good for, right?"

She snarled at him, before a sweet moan interrupted her anger. "Just fuck me!" She cried out, tugging him forward by his tie, "And you should have worn a bow tie, you fucking narcissistic prick!"

Ben removed his fingers from her perfect cunt and made a lewd display of cleaning his fingers with his tongue. His actions shut her up, and by default, made him smirk. "And you shouldn't be so fucking delicious, and yet, here you are."

Before she had a chance to reply with enough bite to probably make him cum, he surged forward with a kiss, his cock sinking into her perfect form. When she jerked forward and gasped into his mouth, he swallowed the noise with another kiss, his hands dropping to her hips.

"That's it," He cooed, pushing forward inch by delicious inch until he settled fully inside her, "You can use me, Rey. I don't mind."

She let out a cry and tugged at his tie, a wordless plea for him to start moving. And since Ben was ever the gentleman, despite ignoring Han's golden rule, he began to move.

The rhythm of his hips was sinful, filling the small space with a cacophony of skin smacking skin, feminine squeals, and his deep groans. Ben pressed another angry kiss to her lips and continued to fuck her, his cock filling her until she was practically bursting at the seams.

"Yeah, that's right, Rey," He hissed out, his mouth moving to suck at her neck, "Your perfect little pussy just seems to love my big cock." He punctuated his words with another lewd smack of his hips, before adding, "Surely you can't hate me after cumming on my cock, now can you?"

Rey let out a cry and moved her hands to his hair, pulling at his dark tresses. She bared her teeth to him but continued to rock her hips against him. "I can hate you," She cried out, her nails digging into his scalp, "But still love your cock."

Her words egged him on, encouraging him to pick up his pace. And so, he did, continuing to slam into her, her cunt like a vice around him. He didn't want to think about having to fix his hair when this blissful experience was over—not only would his perfectly styled waves be destroyed, but with Rey's nails digging into him, he was concerned he'd find blood.

"That's it," He cooed again, enjoying the way she shivered in his arms, letting out soft cries and gasps of pleasure, "It's time to cum, Rey. Then you'll get a nice reward."

He continued his movements, using his mouth to silence a rather audible scream from her, one hand moving back to her perfect little cunt. With one final flick against her clit, she came apart in his arms, screaming against his lips, her hips wiggling as she clenched around him.

Before that movement, Ben wasn't sure he had ever experience true pleasure. Because with Rey's perfect cunt holding him hostage, he was certain he had found nirvana.

This was a new religion and he was keen to convert.

As she continued to cry out against him, her delicious body was finally too much for him. He slammed his lips against hers, letting out his own cries of pleasure, as he exploded into her.

He remained holding her, his breathing ragged as he came down from the best orgasm of his life. She dug her nails into him, her hips wiggling as he finally finished cumming. She let out a soft gasp, clearly feeling the way he filled her.

"You like that?" He purred, pressing another few kisses down the expanse of her neck, "You like being filled with my cum?"

Rey gasped and wiggled against him. But, despite her cute little noises, her eyes still conveyed hatred, even in the post-fuck phase. "You just love that, don't you?" She moaned out, her nails digging into his shoulders, "Me walking around with your cum dripping down my legs?"

Ben smirked and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "And when there's no more left, Rey, I'd be happy to give you more."

She just glared at him, before accepting a handkerchief from him. Ben set her down, watching with fascination as she gently began to clean her legs, streaks of white running down them. Just the sight alone already had him sporting a semi.

"You really are a dick," She moaned out, before gently dropping her dress down to its proper form.

Ben couldn't help but smirk at her words, also fixing his attire. "Then treat me like one whenever you want, Rey."

She cleared her throat and ran her hands down her dress, desperately trying to smooth the fabric. With another signature glare, she moved towards the door.

"My room. As soon as the afterparty is over." She opened the door, the light from outside the closet flooding inside, and turned back to face him. "I have about six years of anger to work out on you."

Ben just smirked. "Is that a promise or a threat, Rey?"

She glanced at her phone and shrugged. Upon meeting his gaze again, she offered a sly smirk. "Probably a bit of both, Solo. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a drunk A-Lister who needs to be escorted down the red carpet."

He watched her saunter off, his cock hardening back in his trousers, torn between thinking about his cum between her legs and that silly smirk she gave him. He quickly fixed his tie and stepped out, wondering just how pissed Hux would be, likely stalking all over the venue looking for him.

But as he strolled back to the red carpet, one thought crossed his mind.

Despite Han demanding that Ben never fight with girls, his father always seemed to be in the midst of one with his mother. Ben couldn't help but shiver.

If his father and mother worked out their anger like he and Rey had, it was certainly a surprise he was an only child.

With a gag, he strolled off, his mind drifting back to the thoughts of later that night and Rey's hotel room, to another opportunity to see golden skin and to run his tongue along her sweet flesh.

And then he smirked, knowing patience was never his thing.

How could he start a fight with Rey before then?