A/N: a combination of "You're an idol and you got the lead role in a romance drama and you practice at my expense" + "I'm your manager and holy shit you have crazy fans" AU. Features: pining, cheesy confessions, fluffy makeouts, and me having way too much fun. Written for the Tomadashi Secret Santa over on tumblr. :)

Tadashi has mixed feelings about crowds.

On the one hand, the light flashing from thousands of cell phones can get dizzying, and his ears have never completely adjusted to hearing his name screamed. But when his fans sing his lines back at him or someone reaches out to grab his sleeve, a wondering look on her face, a warm feeling pools in his belly, because he's reaching all these people, even if it's just through the few crooning notes of a love song. He's not going to be arrogant enough to claim he's saving lives, but at his last signing a thirteen-year-old girl marched up to him, face determined, to tell him that his album had gotten her through "a rough patch," and that—that was enough. When he'd decided to go solo two years ago, he'd never expected this response.

So when he's onstage—it can get overwhelming, but for the most part it's manageable. It's afterwards, when he's leaving, that's the most difficult. Without an elevated stage, he's exposed to the paparazzi's bulging Canon cameras and the hundreds of grabby hands.

And there are hundreds.

"Off," snaps GoGo, slapping someone lightly on the wrist in admonishment. The girl withdraws, looking startled and a bit hurt, but brightens when Tadashi winks at her in appeasement. GoGo's been pickier about letting people within arms-length of him ever since the incident at the Tokyo Dome, when someone managed to rip off one of his sleeves.

It's kind of funny, that his five-foot-three manager scares people more than Wasabi, his six-foot-two head of security. GoGo has a finger to her ear as she speaks through her Bluetooth, directing Heathcliff to meet them in front of the building. Wasabi walks behind Tadashi, keeping the fans at a proper distance, but GoGo's the one at the front lines, pushing her way through the mayhem and flashing the sharp point of her heels dangerously at anyone who dares challenge her. When Tadashi pauses to sign some girl's forearm, GoGo reaches back to grab his sleeve, tugging him along.

"Come to the show next month," she tells the girl, before turning to Tadashi and asking, "Do you want to make it out of here in one piece?"

"Of course," says Tadashi, twisting slightly in her grip to toss the Sharpie back into the crowd.

GoGo rolls her eyes and makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "You're hopeless."

"That's why I have you to look out for me," Tadashi says as Heathcliff pulls up in front of them, the car's jet-black paint glossy in the lights from the stadium.

Tadashi and GoGo tumble into the back as Wasabi shuts the doors behind them and waves them off. GoGo's brows are furrowed—she's just gotten another call—so Tadashi takes the lead and tells Heathcliff, "My place."

As they pull away from the curb, Tadashi tugs at the collar of his shirt. The fabric sticks uncomfortably to his neck from the sweat he worked up performing. He shoots GoGo a questioning look, mouthing, "Clothes?"

She jerks her thumb toward the row of seats behind them.

"You're an angel," Tadashi breathes, leaning over to kiss her forehead before he clambers into the backseat to change.

Halfway through pulling on the T-shirt that GoGo packed, Tadashi realizes the enormity of what he's done. Normally he's good about separating Tadashi, popstar smiling prettily for the cameras from Tadashi, actually terrible at talking to girls, but tonight that line got blurred. GoGo's probably pulling up some lecture about harassment right now and he's going to have to stutter out some lame excuse, like, sorry, I was just working off the adrenaline of tonight's show when the truth is that he spends way more time than he should trying to see inside his manager's head.

Seriously, though. He's changing right behind her and she's not even the littlest bit curious? There are girls across the country who doodle hearts around his name and have his posters up in their room and here he is—

Tone it down, Tadashi, he reminds himself, heart in his throat as he crawls back over the seats, bracing himself for GoGo's stone-cold disapproval or a sharp, "What was that for?"

Nothing happens. GoGo is bent over her phone texting someone, the screen casting a bluish glow on her face. She doesn't even look over as Tadashi buckles his seatbelt again, and Tadashi suppresses a sigh as he rests his cheek on his hand and turns to look out the window. Figures. Why would a forehead kiss mean anything when it's from someone who makes his living off of stealing teenage girls' hearts?

He becomes so absorbed in his thoughts that he doesn't notice they're in front of his condo until Heathcliff clears his throat.

"Thanks, Heathcliff," he says, stepping out onto the sidewalk.

He freezes when he finds GoGo at his elbow.

"What are you—"

"You said I could look over that script you got, remember?"

"Yeah, but it's 11:30—"

The corner of GoGo's mouth curls upward. "You haven't gone through it yet, have you?"

"Well, no," Tadashi admits helplessly, "but—"

"So we'll flip through it together," says GoGo, adjusting her blazer. She tilts her head. "After you."

o.O.o

Tadashi fumbles for the light switch as GoGo eases off her heels. His condo is tidy, GoGo notes, before Tadashi ushers her toward the coffee table and disappears behind the kitchen island to get some green tea brewing.

GoGo sits on his couch, reaching for the stapled packet lying on the table.

"Is this the script?" she asks, skimming the first page.

"Yeah," Tadashi calls from the kitchen. "Is it—is it any good?"

"It's a drama," snorts GoGo. "I think that speaks for itself."

"Let me see that," Tadashi's voice sounds from behind her as he leans over the back of the couch to snatch it from her hands. "You shouldn't judge a book by its cover."

He holds it up, brown eyes darting from line to line.

"Well?" prompts GoGo. "Any tragic deaths? Secret identities? Do you know who the other person in your love triangle is yet?"

"Not yet," answers Tadashi, handing her back the script. He raises an eyebrow. "If you feel so strongly about this, why'd you tell me to accept the role?"

"Because it's big," says GoGo. "You got the lead, Tadashi. That's not nothing."

Tadashi ducks his head, the tips of his ears turning red. GoGo finds it endearing that he doesn't bat an eye when modeling for a magazine spread but still doesn't know how to take a compliment.

"Yeah, well," says Tadashi, scratching the back of his neck, "that's not going to matter if I don't know my lines."

"Come on," says GoGo, waving the papers in the air. "You're telling me that you can memorize the choreography for Love in Disguise but not a few sentences of some sappy romance role?"

Tadashi scowls at her; he hates when she makes fun of his boy band days. "It's not the lines themselves I'm worried about—it's the delivery."

"So practice," shrugs GoGo.

"As lovely as my face is, I don't think making moony eyes at my reflection in the mirror is going to help."

"Yeah, like…" GoGo's finger falls on a line, "there isn't any way you can possibly save this gem: Meeting you…it must be fate. I couldn't have written the script better myself." She looks at Tadashi, wrinkling her nose. "Do people seriously think these lines work?"

Tadashi shrugs, hiding a grin. "Debatable, but worth a shot. Not everyone's as skeptical as you are."

"Practice on me, then."

Tadashi blinks. "You?"

"Yeah," says GoGo, careful to keep her voice nonchalant. "Like you said, I'm a skeptic. If you can win me over, your target audience will be a piece of cake."

"Right," says Tadashi, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "Okay. That—that's a good idea."

GoGo peels off her blazer and settles back into the couch, flipping back to the first page of the script.

"All right," she declares. "Let's get started."

o.O.o

GoGo wakes up with her mouth dry and the edge of a blanket tickling her chin.

"What…" she pushes herself up into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes. The room around her comes into focus: plush carpet, roomy leather sofa, glass coffee table, Yin & Yang cat coaster—

"Shit." GoGo lurches for her phone, which flashes once with 9:15 before the screen goes black.

Great. Her phone is dead and she's just slept over at Tadashi Hamada's place. Last night is fuzzy in her memory. She has vague recollections of popping a bottle of champagne to celebrate nearing the end of Tadashi's concert tour, how eventually they had turned it into a challenge—one swig for every cringe-worthy line in the script—the way Tadashi's eyes had seemed sparklier after GoGo's tenth gulp—oh, god. GoGo prays she didn't do or say anything embarrassing.

"Morning," Tadashi says cheerily, breezing through the living room. His sweatpants sit low on his hips; a strip of bare skin gets exposed when he stretches his arm to set a cup of coffee in front of her. GoGo drags her attention away from it long enough to hiss, "Why didn't you wake me up?" And why don't you look as crappy as I feel?

"You looked like you needed the rest," says Tadashi. "Besides, it's Sunday. No one's going to bite your head off if you take a little time to yourself."

GoGo opens her mouth to say something about how that's completely beside the point, but Tadashi has already walked away, calling, "Do you want an omelet?" over his shoulder.

"Yes," answers GoGo, finally giving in. The whole scene is surreal and startlingly domestic; she's still trying to wrap her head around it as she combs fingers through her tangled hair and adjusts her wrinkled collar.

Tadashi grins when she finally pads into the kitchen. "Can you grab the oregano?" he asks, nodding toward the cabinet over her head.

GoGo cranes her neck upwards at it before narrowing her eyes. "Ha, ha."

"Shoot!" Tadashi's eyes widen as he remembers their height difference. "I didn't say that to make fun of you, I swear. Just—watch the pan for me, will you?" His hand finds the small of her back and pushes her toward the stove. Meanwhile, he edges around her, and GoGo stiffens, suddenly aware of her morning breath and their proximity.

"I had no idea you were such a morning person," she grumbles, watching the eggs bubble and hiss.

"But, GoGo, that's only Fact #3 on Seventeen's 'Thirty Things You Should Know' about me." He turns toward her, waving a small red shaker. "Pepper?"

GoGo wrinkles her nose. "No thanks. Also, just because I manage your media doesn't mean I read it."

"Mhmm," hums Tadashi, taking the handle of the pan back from her. Deftly, he flips the finished omelet onto a plate and hands it over to her, along with a fork. "Careful, it's hot."

GoGo takes a steaming bite, eyes bulging. "It's amazing."

"I'm a man of many talents."

"Seriously, if you want to quit show business and become a chef, just tell me."

Tadashi smiles, but the smile quickly fades. "It'd never work."

"Why not?"

"Because." Tadashi's eyes slide away from her before flitting back. His shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath and reaches forward, one hand coming up to tuck GoGo's hair behind her ear. "I'd be leaving something important behind."

GoGo nearly chokes on the piece she's chewing. "I'm—Tadashi?"

This is not at all how she'd imagined things going. Not that she has imagined…things, it's just that she's wearing a wrinkled day-old outfit and has a half-eaten portion of omelet lodged in her windpipe, and Tadashi—

—is grinning.

"It worked," he says, sounding partially surprised but also pleased.

"What—that was a line?"

"I read through the script again after you fell asleep," explains Tadashi, tapping the side of his head with one finger. "Episodes one and two."

GoGo is now completely pink—and not from desire. "You could have warned me."

"Wouldn't that have made your reaction less natural?"

"That—nothing about that was natural," scowls GoGo. "It was corny and weird."

Tadashi scans her from head to toe before chuckling and returning his attention to the stove.

"What—why are you laughing?" splutters GoGo, grabbing his elbow.

"Don't worry about it, GoGo."

"Like hell I won't! I'm your manager. There are no secrets between us, Tadashi!"

"GoGo—stop—I can't cook with you twisting my arm—"

"I'm not letting go until you fess up—"

"If you leave me alone I'll make you another omelet."

"…Deal."

o.O.o

Two hours before the concert, security is having a hard time keeping the crowd under control.

One guard, however, seems to be enjoying himself. GoGo looks up from her tablet to watch as he gets some of the fans back into an orderly line before tipping his hat at them, grinning. As if sensing her gaze, the security guard turns in GoGo's direction, and though hefty black sunglasses cover his eyes, GoGo knows exactly what they look like.

She makes a show of acting extremely focused on her tablet, her ears attuned to the guard's approach. Once he's beside her, she rounds on him, flicking the (totally fake) badge pinned to his chest.

"Having fun?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," grins Tadashi. "How do I look?"

What GoGo thinks: he fills out the uniform well.

What she actually says: "Sloppy." She reaches up to pick a piece of lint off one of the navy blue shoulder pads.

Tadashi chuckles, unfazed. "Wasabi dug it out of storage for me, so I'd say it's in pretty good condition, all things considered." His posture screams ease and relaxation, with his powder-blue shirt and his hands tucked in his pockets. "So," he starts, the brim of his hat shading GoGo's face as he leans into her space, "what gave me away?"

What GoGo thinks: everything. She hasn't spent years sneaking Tadashi out of fansignings and protecting him from trigger-happy paparazzi for nothing. She knows the nuances of his stage voice (huskier than the one he uses in the studio) and can pick him out of a crowd based on at least ten different details. When he wants to go somewhere incognito he wears this ratty baseball cap that Hiro sent over from where he's studying in the States. He puts an unhealthy amount of cream in his coffee and is "more of a tea person, really." He rubs the side of his jaw with his thumb when he's nervous. GoGo knows all of this, but she also knows that admitting any of it oversteps the invisible boundaries drawn by her contract.

So what GoGo actually does: steps, ever-so-slightly, away. Schools her expression into one of faint amusement and says, shrugging: "Just a hunch."

o.O.o

"...So, like, hypothetically—if there was this girl, and she was a really big fan, and I know that Tadashi's performing over here next summer…"

"Have you talked to Tadashi about this?"

"Yeah, he told me to clear it with you. So…"

"Yes, I'll get you tickets and backstage access," GoGo says knowingly.

"Awesome! Thanks so much—"

"And Hiro?"

"…yes?" comes the reply; GoGo smiles, envisioning the younger Hamada's wary expression.

"Am I going to get to meet your girlfriend?"

"Wh—she's not—I have to go!" splutters Hiro, catching the tail end of GoGo's laughter as he ends the call.

Meanwhile, the older Hamada is having trouble ending a call of his own. Tadashi walks into the living room, eyes trained on the tablet in his hands.

"—yes, Aunt Cass, I'm eating plenty of vegetables. And the food poisoning was just one time, I—" he catches sight of GoGo smirking on the couch and reddens slightly. "Aunt Cass, can we finish this later? I have company—"

"Let me see!" urges Aunt Cass excitedly.

Shrugging helplessly, Tadashi hands the tablet over to GoGo. She's only talked to Cass a few times—the rest of what she knows comes from stories relayed by Tadashi and Hiro—but Tadashi's aunt is hardly a forgettable person, what with her expressive features and exuberant nature.

"Oh, it's you, GoGo," says Aunt Cass, the radiance of her smile dimming slightly.

"Hi Aunt Cass," says GoGo. "Not the company you had in mind?" she says it teasingly to let Cass know that she means well.

Cass's eyes widen. "No, I'm ecstatic to see you, dear! I just thought that maybe—well…" Aunt Cass's eyes flicker guiltily toward Tadashi before returning to GoGo. "…never mind."

Tadashi slides into the spot on the couch beside GoGo. "What is it, Aunt Cass," he sighs, the expression on his face hinting that he already anticipates what's about to come.

"I just…" Aunt Cass wrings her hands, "…was hoping it'd be a girlfriend."

GoGo bursts into laughter at the exact same time Tadashi groans and buries his face in his hands, mumbling, "Not this again."

"He's too busy to date," explains GoGo, nudging Tadashi's shoulder with her elbow.

"That's what he keeps telling me, but I thought that maybe he was just too embarrassed to admit to anything," pouts Aunt Cass. "I mean—you're young, GoGo! Be honest with me. Is or is not my nephew a catch?"

GoGo struggles to keep a straight face as she answers, "He's a catch." Tadashi glares at her through the space between his fingers.

"And stardom is all well and good, but he needs a little love, you know? I try to keep myself updated through the fan sites, but it's so hard to tell what's real and what's just speculation. Like whatever happened to that actress, Masa—Misa—"

"Misako?" supplies GoGo, delighting in the strangled noise that Tadashi makes.

"Yes, were they ever a thing?"

"They went out to lunch once or twice."

"And nothing?"

"I guess not. She's engaged to her costar now, from Seven Ways to Say I Love You?"

"Oh!" exclaims Cass, looking outraged. "She passed over Tadashi for him?"

"Okay," Tadashi finally interjects, coming back into view of the camera. "Aunt Cass, stay safe and healthy. I love you. GoGo and I have work to do now. Bye."

After the video call closes, it's quiet for a few seconds.

"You," Tadashi declares eventually, "are a terrible friend."

"It's nice to see you flustered every now and then," says GoGo. "Stick you in front of a thousand fangirls and you're okay. But one middle-aged woman and…" she waves a hand in the air.

"My aunt is crazy," groans Tadashi.

"She just wants you to be happy."

"I am happy. And single. The two are not mutually exclusive."

"Okay, Happily Single Hamada it is. But you're going to need to channel your less content side for this next scene," says GoGo, pointing to where they'd left off in lines practice before they'd had to take their respective calls.

"Right." Tadashi clears his throat before throwing one arm over the back of the couch, the picture of ease. The transition from awkward nephew to actor-in-training is disorienting, and GoGo has to blink a few times to get her bearings.

"I meant what I said before," begins Tadashi, eyes softening. "This isn't easy for me. But I think that it's what I have to do."

Crossing her legs beneath her, GoGo reads, slowly, "When will you be back?"

"Cut." Tadashi leans forward again, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees. A furrow appears between his eyebrows.

"What?" prods GoGo.

"A little more emotion from my love interest might be nice," jokes Tadashi, eyes crinkling as he tilts his face toward her.

"The point is to practice your lines, not mine."

"Yeah, but these things work off each other, GoGo. There has to be a certain atmosphere. You could sound a little more disappointed or something, and you don't have to do that weird deadpan expression."

"I do not do a weird deadpan expression!" protests GoGo, wrinkling her nose.

"Not normally you don't, but when you're reading these lines it's like you're suddenly playing poker."

"There's a reason you're getting paid to do this and I'm not. Acting isn't part of my job description."

"Here, I have an idea," Tadashi says suddenly. "Let's do a bonding exercise, to set the tone."

"I swear to god, Tadashi, if you're going to make me talk about feelings—"

"Just hear me out." Tadashi tugs the script out of her hands and reaches for his phone, opening to the timer. "Two minutes of silence and looking into each other's eyes."

"This is straight out of a relationship column. What the hell, Tadashi, are you fourteen?"

"Silence," Tadashi insists firmly, starting the clock, and GoGo is so stunned by his seriousness that she shuts up.

It is the weirdest two minutes of her life.

The proximity isn't uncomfortable; they're a good arms-length away from each other on the couch. And Tadashi's eyes aren't unfamiliar, either, just part of the "wholesome heartthrob" image they use to sell his CDs. But it's really hard to fixate on just his eyes. There's his nose, which, now that GoGo thinks about it, is maybe a little big for his face, and his ears kind of stick out weirdly but man does Tadashi look good with slightly messy hair. Wait, she's supposed to focus on his eyes. Why on earth did she agree to this? This is the stupidest exercise ever created—hold on, why do Tadashi's eyes keep flicking downwards…?

And GoGo frowns and looks down as well, which brings her attention to Tadashi's…

…mouth.

The alarm goes off.

Snapping back to reality, GoGo lunges for the script. Meanwhile, Tadashi leans back, unruffled.

"Okay, now start from your part," he instructs.

It's just a dumb script, thinks GoGo. Swallowing, she starts again: "When will you be back?"

And maybe it's just Tadashi's acting, but when he replies, faintly, "I'm not sure," he seems the tiniest bit sad.

o.O.o

The months pass. Tadashi starts filming his drama and GoGo becomes occupied with working out scheduling and details for next year's concert tour.

She's opening up her laptop to check on ticket sales when a headline catches her eye.

Frowning, GoGo clicks on it. Her suspicions are confirmed when she sees the familiar gray cardigan; underneath, the caption reads: 'Back to the Start' co-stars starting up something more?

Nothing much is happening in the photo—Tadashi's just opening the door for his companion.

And smiling. One of his dorky, goofy ones, too, not the camera-ready grin he slides into place when needed.

It's not a big deal.

But because there's still a weird, unsettled feeling in her stomach, GoGo does what she usually does under these circumstances.

She calls Honey.

o.O.o

The first thing Honey says, upon answering: "It's a pretty cute photo."

GoGo narrows her eyes. "How did you know?"

"Sweetie, as your go-to source on what the Internet is saying about your pretty boy popstar, it's my job to know these things."

"And what is the Internet saying?" GoGo asks cautiously.

"Comments range from heartbroken to 'omg they are the cutest things ever,'" discloses Honey. She pauses before asking, "Do you think it's serious?"

"How am I supposed to know?" GoGo retorts sharply. "You're the one who ran a blog dedicated to him."

"First of all, those were my younger years. Secondly, you're the one who actually gets to interact with him, which, by the way, I am super jealous about—that one time you let me meet him at an after party totally doesn't count."

"I don't know how he acts when he actually likes someone. I thought he was into Misako but that ended up being wrong. And then there was all this crap about how he's happy with being single—"

"Wait, when was that?"

"A few months ago? I don't remember exactly."

"He just announced that randomly?"

"Well, no, it was because his aunt was giving him a hard time."

"Why were you involved in a conversation between him and his aunt?"

"I was at his condo—"

"You were in his condo?"

"Honey!" GoGo pulls the phone away from her ear, wincing at the sudden spike in her friend's volume. "Not a big deal. I was helping him with his lines. For the drama. That he's filming with…" her voice gets quieter as she continues staring at the article open in front of her. Gray cardigan. Black hair. Tadashi smiling. "…Nyoko."

"Oh, GoGo," sighs Honey.

"Don't say it."

Honey Lemon laughs, fond and sympathetic. "I don't need to."

o.O.o

Things that bother GoGo: traffic, having to repeat herself, and realizing, belatedly, that she has to do something about being halfway in love with Tadashi Hamada.

With Tadashi being so busy with recording, GoGo doesn't see him frequently. When they do run into each other in the hallways, it's easy to fake being in the middle of a call until she can turn the corner and escape to the bathroom or make a run to the nearby coffee shop. Things seem to work out, up until she finds Tadashi standing in front of the door to her office, hands tucked in his pockets, a determined look on his face.

She starts backpedaling without thinking.

In a flash, Tadashi has caught up to her, fingers circling her wrist. GoGo struggles halfheartedly as he tugs her along, opening the door to her office wordlessly. Once they're inside, GoGo finds her voice again, her throat tightening involuntarily as she growls, "Let go of me."

Tadashi quickly obliges, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender as he backs up against the door. Concern shines in his eyes. He's just wrapped up his segment for the day—GoGo can tell from the makeup still caking his face and the gleam of gel in his hair.

And suddenly she's mad. Mad at the traitorous thump of her heart. Mad at how she should know better. Mad at Tadashi and his movie-star smile and his obliviousness and how, when it comes down to it, maybe she doesn't know him at all, because sometimes he looks at her and she thinks—

GoGo grips the edge of her desk to hide the tremor in her hands.

"You've been avoiding me," Tadashi finally says, arms dropping to his sides.

"I've been busy." Stay unconcerned. Stay safe.

Something flickers in Tadashi's eyes. "Don't lie to me, GoGo." He hesitates before venturing, "Does it have anything to do with Nyoko?"

Stiffening, GoGo straightens and glares at him. "I don't care about any of that."

"Because nothing's going on with us. And I've been careful with the press—I know how hard your job can get when you have to deal with bad publicity—"

"That's what you think this is about? Publicity?" asks GoGo, voice cracking even though she doesn't mean it to.

"Honestly, I don't know what to think," breathes Tadashi, and suddenly he's only a foot away instead of over by the door. "GoGo, I know that sometimes it seems like I take you for granted, but I notice when you aren't around. These past few weeks… I've kept quiet about it because I've been trying to figure things out, but running lines with you—being around you—"

It feels like something out of a drama. Like a confession, dangerous and slightly desperate. A heart teetering, ready to plummet over a ledge.

"Tadashi, stop." Her hands are on his chest now—when did that happen? When did he get so close? "We can't—" She takes a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "This isn't one of your sappy romances."

Tadashi frowns, pulling back slightly. "Of course not. I'm being honest, GoGo." His voice is a mixture of startled, worried, and amused. "Did you really think I was pulling another line?"

"No. I mean—"

And GoGo makes the mistake of looking up at him. Tadashi's lips are slightly parted, and there's so much hope and vulnerability etched across his face that GoGo makes herself sick with the knowledge of what she's about to say. What she has to say. Because Tadashi's face—

It's the face of someone who'd wait, if she let him.

"I mean," she starts again, willing her voice to remain firm, "that you've been reading the signs wrong. I'm sorry if I misled you. I just wanted to help. But this? Us?" GoGo pushes him away, making space so she can gesture between them. "Strictly professional."

Confusion turns into devastation before Tadashi closes his eyes, effectively closing off any window into his thoughts. When he opens them again, he's managed to marshal his expression into one of mostly mortification.

"I'm sorry. Oh, god, I'm such an idiot, I just—"

"Tadashi—" GoGo fights the urge to reach for him. Just rip it off, like a band-aid.

"It's fine. It's my fault. I—I'll just be going, now," says Tadashi, beginning to leave. At the door, he pauses to throw one last glance at her over his shoulder. "Sorry for—for everything," he says, offering a pained smile.

"I'm sorry, too," says GoGo, watching as Tadashi walks back out into the hallway, as the door swings shut behind him, something hard and final clicking into place.

o.O.o

It's Friday evening and GoGo is alone in her apartment, glaring at her TV.

The remote has disappeared somewhere into the depths of her couch. She digs around before finding it, slumping back against her cushions and sighing heavily as she presses the on button and flips through the channels.

It doesn't take her long to locate the one she's looking for. Bubbly music plays—the opening sequence is already halfway complete—but GoGo inhales sharply as Tadashi's face appears onscreen, hand shadowing his eyes as he squints into the sun before smiling winningly at the camera. It's jarring, how it feels as if he's in her living room when he isn't.

The fact that GoGo notices his absence so acutely annoys her. She's the one who scheduled the premiere party, after all. She's the one who left him a very impersonal note saying it'd be best for publicity if he attended. She's the one who didn't respond to the polite text he'd sent asking if she'd be there, too. She's the one sitting by herself in her pajamas—

Somebody knocks on the door.

GoGo scrambles to her feet, heart thumping.

Hesitantly, she unlatches the door, not daring to look up. A scuffed pair of tennis shoes, covered by the overlong hem of some jeans, fills her vision, just as a voice drawls, "Delivery."

GoGo's gaze snaps upward. The boy in front of her has on a blue beanie over shaggy, shoulder-length unkempt hair, and there's a suspicious looking stain on the sleeve of his pink shirt. His nametag reads "Fred," and he holds up the box of pizza, eyebrows raised in a question, as GoGo stands and gapes.

She is such an idiot.

"This is the right address, right?" Fred asks, peering closer at the embossed plate by her door. "One small pizza, mushrooms and—"

"It's mine," GoGo says, a bit more harshly than she intended. She slaps a wad of cash into Fred's hand and hurriedly pulls her box of pizza from him, shutting the door as quickly as she can. She can already hear the show starting. Cursing, GoGo runs back into the living room, the pizza box warm on her lap as she flips open the lid and tears into a piece, eyes glued to the television as she tries to figure out what she's missed.

(She's not going to think about how her stomach lurched when she went to answer the door. She's not. She's not.)

The drama is surprisingly engaging. Despite how much GoGo wants to shut it off, she can't tear her eyes away. Tadashi is acing his role, every look and gentle gesture laced with longing. Even his cheesier lines are delivered with a playfulness that makes her heart flutter. Five minutes of a guilty pleasure become fifteen, then thirty, and by the time the commercial break hits, GoGo knows that she's going to spend the next hour of the two-episode premiere glued to the couch, hating herself.

She's digging around in the fridge for some Calpis when her doorbell rings.

GoGo frowns. Trying to remember if she had any other scheduled deliveries, she walks out into the hallway and yanks open her door, not bothering to look through the peephole.

Almost immediately, she wishes she had.

Tadashi Hamada is standing in front of her, looking like he just stepped off the red carpet or some magazine page. There's a flower peeking out the pocket of his charcoal gray suit. His hair is perfectly coiffed and GoGo hates it, wants to see it flattened by his stupid baseball cap or mussed from running away from his legion of fangirls. Instead, he has the nerve to stand there looking polished and presentable while GoGo is wearing a ratty old T-shirt and striped blue pajama pants.

"You're not supposed to be here," she says by way of greeting.

A brief look of hurt flashes across Tadashi's face before his mouth hardens into a determined line and he steps across the threshold of her doorway.

"No, seriously," says GoGo, grabbing an umbrella out of her umbrella stand and holding it in front of her like a sword. Tadashi takes another step forward, the tip of the umbrella pressing into his stomach.

"GoGo," he says exasperatedly. "We need to talk."

"So talk. At an arms-length away."

"This is ridiculous!" He drags a hand through his hair, and GoGo watches the gesture approvingly before she snaps out of it, glaring at the ground. "I just wanted—I just came here to say…" Tadashi's shoulders sag and he drops his hand from his head, looking defeated. "Look, I know things have been awkward ever since my stupid screw-up, but… I miss you. I want us to still be friends, at least. And the stuff I said before—that's in the past, now. So you don't have to worry about it."

What GoGo thinks: I didn't want it to be like this. A part of her, however small, had hoped that Tadashi might still hold on, no matter what she told him.

What GoGo says: "Friends is a good idea."

"Okay." Tadashi blinks, relief spreading across his face. "So I—I'll see you around, then." Halfway through putting his left shoe back on, however, he freezes. He tilts his head, one ear cocked, brow wrinkled in confusion. "Is that…you're watching the premiere?"

Every part of GoGo goes cold. "Well," she hedges, "you can't exactly blame me, after all the hype we drummed up about it—"

"You hate dramas," Tadashi says slowly, stepping forward. Then, softer: "Right?"

And GoGo can see that he's figured it out. His chocolate-brown eyes have darkened with intensity, the look he gets right before he's about to step onstage or face one of his roaring crowds. He takes another step. She doesn't move. She can smell his cologne, now: crisp and heady and familiar.

Maybe she does know Tadashi. And he knows her.

"GoGo," he murmurs. His hand is on the small of her back now. Warm, gentle. "Can I—"

"You can," she breathes, and kisses him.

o.O.o

"I was lying, earlier," says GoGo, when it's been five minutes and Tadashi has graduated from kissing her nose and lips to trailing his mouth along her jawline and neck. "When I said that things between us were strictly professional."

She can feel Tadashi's smile against her pulse. "For the record, I was lying earlier, too," he confides. "When I said that I just wanted to be friends."

GoGo raises an eyebrow. "This doesn't count as getting friendly?"

"It can if you want," laughs Tadashi, raising his head to grin at her.

What GoGo thinks: I'm halfway in love with you.

What GoGo actually says: "I hate your hair."

"So do something about it," challenges Tadashi.

"Oh, I plan to," GoGo says breathlessly, before dragging him down by the lapels to kiss him again.

o.O.o

Five minutes later, Tadashi is thoroughly disheveled.

"Better?" he smirks, disentangling himself from GoGo's arms. His hair is messy—just the way GoGo likes it—his jacket crumpled on the floor, his tie unknotted. And GoGo secretly congratulates herself for managing to maneuver him against her wall.

"Better," she replies, knitting her fingers with his and stepping forward between his legs to peck his cheek. The TV is still playing in the background. "Now come on. I don't want to miss what happens next."