Willow

I don't notice you to begin with.

The days and weeks always seem to mesh together most of the time here at Smosh.

My coworkers are always busy doing things,
editing and shooting and directing videos that may seem mundane to most, but it's really a whole ordeal.

Ian told me the other day about new cast members coming in to audition, giving me a brief overview about who he was referring to, and though I listened carefully, I didn't retain that information very well.

You're one of the new cast members Ian told us about. You were there on Monday, but my eyes passed over your maroon button up and right back to Shayne. I had a YouTube video pulled up for him to see, and I had spent far too much time trying to explain something to him to properly notice you.

It's Monday. You laugh about something with your friend, and today's button up is thrown over a black top that has me turning my head towards you and away from Shayne. You are new and you're laughing and I'm sitting here watching you with curious eyes.

We've been in one video together so far.

It's unfortunate that it was a Try Not To Laugh, though, because I didn't get to speak to you like I wanted to. You were hilarious and made me laugh so hard that I almost choked on the water in my mouth, so I know you're a funny person at least.

It's been a week of you working here, and the only thing I know about you is your name and that you're really good at Christopher Nolan impressions.

We don't talk much yet.

—

We notice each other now.

I can't pinpoint how it starts, but I've suddenly become hyper-aware of it.

I'll see you with Chanse and Amanda on the lunch area and you'll smile at me and I'll smile right back. We have small conversations before shoots and exchange brief words between passing hallways.

It's exciting, getting to know you. For a few hours of my day, we work alongside each other; Shooting videos and partaking in dumb discourse with the rest of the cast.

I've been learning about you the same way I've been learning about Chanse and Arasha. The only difference is that they seem more willing to talk to me—you don't ever approach me outside of work.

I don't understand why.

—

I came to the conclusion that you are an extrovert.

You talk a lot during shoots, and joke around  during brakes. You're always putting yourself out there, making Shayne and the rest of the cast laugh, doing and saying crazy things for the sake of the video.

Your fashion is unlike anything I'm used to. You wear button ups and sweaters and hoodies and t-shirts of different colors. Your hair is a mess most of the time. I don't like messy hair on myself, but you definitely pull it off in ways other's couldn't.

Maybe it's because of the confidence you exude.

I don't know you enough, so maybe my assessment could be completely wrong.

—

You talk to Amanda and Chanse the most.

I always see you sitting and chatting and joking with them. Despite how chaotic and loud you seem in videos, your demeanor is different behind the cameras. You're still fun and chaotic, but you're also calm and chill and don't talk to a lot of people besides your close friends. You've been working here for three months now, and I assume you're still a little nervous about interacting with the other crew members because of it.

I've been wanting to talk to you more. We've had conversations and interacted on and off camera, but everything is still so new, like you're keeping me and everyone else at arms length.

I know you a little better now, though.

I know you like musicals and reality tv shows and you're part of Starkid and have a dog named Spork. I know you're incredibly smart, despite what some YouTube comments may say. You're so smart when you talk about the things you're passionate about.

I find myself intrigued by you with each passing day.

—

I think you might not be a total extrovert.

This is weird, considering your personality. I know you love acting and spending time with your friends, that you like being around others and making people laugh. But you also like to be alone. I do think it's endearing how joyful you are around your friends, though, like you're making sure they know you're having a blast every time you're with them.

Sometimes, I see you sit inside your car with your head low against the wheel. When it's late and I'm hurrying to get inside my car to drive home, I see you close your eyes and lay against the wheel for a bit, like you're replaying the events of the day.

I don't know if you're replaying the good parts, or only focusing on the bad ones.

Either way, I don't like to pry, so I get inside my car and drive away before I do something stupid like knock on your window and ask you what's wrong.

—

The days following winter are short and fast-going. It's around the time of the year where I start wearing thicker coats and warmer clothes to keep the cold away. It doesn't get that cold here in California, but it does get chilly sometimes.

Today is a particularly cold day.

Shayne's nose is red and his blond hair seems muted, like if he'd just thrown water all over his head—making his hair look brown instead of golden. I don't look any better than him. You, however, don't seem too affected. Your cheeks are still rosy but not scarlet, and you're brown hair is tucked inside a beanie that makes the ends of your hair stick out. This is the first time I've seen you wear a beanie.

It looks cute. You look cute.

I don't notice you walking towards me until I'm looking up and suddenly see you standing in front of me. You're smiling, all bright and warm against the fluorescent lights, like you know something I don't. I open my mouth to greet you good morning when you shove a cup of coffee towards me. I pause, a little confused by the motion but taking it nevertheless.

"I brought you coffee," You grin, a glint in your eyes.

"Oh, thank you. What for?" I can't help but ask, wondering why you would do that when we haven't talked much outside of work. You are rocking slightly on your heels, making your hair bounce slightly at the ends. I bite back a smile.

"I don't know," you break the gaze to stare at your shoes, "you mentioned the other day what your coffee order was and I was already at the coffee shop so…I figured why not. We haven't really hung out much, and I guess this is me trying to say that we should hang out more?"

I'm not sure what to say. I don't know how to process the fact that you remembered my coffee order or the fact that you want to hang out more. Either way, my cheeks are burning. By the cold or by your words, I have no idea.

"We should, Angela. We really should."

—

So we start hanging out more.

We go to places and you invite me to your apartment and I invite you to my favorite restaurant and we exchange phone numbers and you tell me things that others don't know about, and I tell you things that I only tell close friends.

It’s fun. You’re fun.

—

Chanse says something that makes you frown a little today. It’s in the middle of a games video, so Shayne awkwardly laughs, and I awkwardly giggle. You try to laugh it off, but you aren't having the best of days and I can tell that the joke bothered you a little. I try to reassure you by rubbing my hand across your arm, and Chanse looks so apologetic that you eventually shake it off and get back at him with your own cheeky comment. You two are like siblings, so it's not really a surprise to see you laughing and smiling after a roast fest.

As we finish the video and I turn to leave the set, you walk up next to me. I turn my head to look at you, but you're staring down at your phone. Shayne calls out for me as we turn the corner. I turn to him in confusion.

"Courtney, you still down for the movie afterwards? It's kind of pouring so I’m not sure if you're still down for it." He says, running a hand through his hair.

I stop in my tracks to face him, not noticing you also stopping next to me. I smirk, sending Shayne a thumbs up.

"A little rain is nothing to worry about. See you there, bud."

He bids me goodbye and turns in the opposite direction. I turn back around to ask if you wanted to come, but you're already walking away.

—

Today was our annual Christmas party at the office. Ian likes to throw one for us every year before we go on our Christmas break. It's a nice tradition that has continued throughout the years.

We manage to get Tommy to make some of his famous cocktails for us, so that's already a big upgrade from last year.

You are also here, laughing and dancing and having a good time—wearing a black leather jacket over a black top.

You look good.

I'm sat on a chair next to Shayne, accompanying him for a bit since he's not a big fan of dance floors—well, if you could even call the middle of the room a dance floor. He's telling me something about a book he's been reading when the music changes into something more slow and sensual. Without even realizing it, I turn to look at you.

You're moving slow, following the rhythm of the song and the beat of the drums. You're running a hand through your hair—looking soft and messy in a way only you know how—and you roll your hips in a particular motion that has me transfixed, like a moth to a flame.

You might be a magician—the way you make everyone disappear when you're in the room.

At some point, Shayne had left to go get a drink, and I'm about to turn away to take a sip of mine when you turn your head and lock eyes with me.

It's only for a few seconds, but a fire is already rumbling deep inside me the longer you look at me—such a profound moment suddenly feeling too intense. I brake off the gaze in a hurry to get out of the room, not noticing your eyes following me.

I manage to escape the party and the loud music for a short while, slipping outside to catch my breath.

I don't know why I reacted like that.

It's only after the song is over and a new, more upturned one comes on that I decide to come back in. You're sat next to Erin this time, drinking your cocktail away with a frown.

I don't turn to look at you for the rest of the night.

—

January and February fly by in an instant.

You're still messy hair, open button ups, and worn down sneakers.

I'm still mini skirts, golden hair, and red lips at best.

—

Anthony is back at Smosh now.

He's been gone for so long, been away from so many things. Some people had resented him for leaving, but I welcome him back with open arms. I hug him tight, telling him how glad I am that he's back and how excited I am to work with him again.

He's all smiles and gentle touches.

Everyone gathers around to greet him, some more familiar with him than others. Anthony goes around introducing himself to everyone, and when he reaches you, I hold my breath—for your sake or mine, I don't know. Seconds go by of just you two talking, and I know you said something stupid by the way he breaks off. You say something that makes him laugh so hard, it has Ian turning towards us in confusion. I watch Anthony shake your hand with a grin.

"Oh, I already like you a lot." He says, turning towards Ian afterwards.

I guess being charming runs in your veins.

—

"Court, you want to go get Mexican food with me later? I know this really good place down the block."

"Yeah, I'd love to, Ange."

—

It's Friday, 12 in the afternoon.

You were not in the call sheet today.

I'm sat in between Chanse and Arasha for the games video, kind of wishing you were here. You are always so fun to be around, so passionate about anything and everything.

If you were here, I think I would do something stupid like caress your arm or sit way too close to you to be considered adequate.

But you're not here, so I turn my head towards
Chanse and begin the instructions of the game.

—

Are you sick?

I think you are. I haven't seen you since last Friday, and Chanse mentioned something about you having a fever Friday night.

It's Tuesday, and you've missed the last few days of shooting. I was going to text you, but Chanse said he was already checking up on you.

It's been two days and I already miss your messy hair and bright smile.

—

Shayne thinks I'm dating someone.

He doesn't flat out tell me what he thinks, because Shayne is not confrontational like that, though he does comment that I've been happier than usual and that I have an aura to me that's different. I ask him how he came to those terms, and he only shrugged and told me that that's usually what happens when you're dating someone.

He said it so casually that I don't register it until he's up and gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I have no idea how he came to that conclusion, but then my mind flashes to you and suddenly I feel sick. You're my coworker and close friend. You can’t be the first thing I think about when I walk into work every day. I can't be thinking about you now, not after Shayne just implied that I'm dating someone.

All I've done is talk and hang out with you. Surely that has no correlation with what he's implying, right? I'm not dating anyone, but if you're the first person I think of after that implication, then maybe I'm already too far gone.

—

Okay, I think I might have a crush on you.

It'll fade away, like they usually do.

—

It doesn't. Summer, however, does fade away.

My crush stays the same. You and I stay the same

Time stays the same.

—

I've been avoiding you.

Ever since I came to terms with my feelings, it's only been downhill from there. Spending every day with you, both at work and after, has only made those feelings stronger. I don't even know if you're into girls like that, but my thoughts have been all over the place these days that avoiding you is the best thing I could resort to.

I try to keep my head clear these days.

Even when I'm near you, I try not to let my eyes roam. It's so much easier like this, to just forget. To be absorbed in my work enough to forget about you and your big brown eyes.

You've been so sad these past few weeks. You're good at hiding it—no one has noticed anything different in you. No one notices the lingering looks you throw my way or the wandering eyes flickering towards me whenever you think I'm not looking. I'm sorry for making you sad. I've not been much better either. Shayne says I look like a ghost most days, like I'm wandering around and never fully living.

It's easier like this. It should be easier like this.

I spend most of my time with Shayne now, mostly because he's always been the rock I fall back to whenever things go wrong. Sometimes we leave work together. Sometimes you see us, and I know you're angry by the way your knuckles turn white every time you walk past us to get inside your car.

Do you still lay against the wheel and think about all the bad moments of your day?

Am I a part of those now?

I don't linger around the parking lot enough to know.

—

"What is going on with you and Angela?”

The question takes me by surprise. I look up from my phone to find Shayne standing in front of me, his arms crossed and tone serious.

"Why are you asking me this?" I raise a brow, turning my phone off.

"You've been moping around all month. Both of you have." He frowns, staring at me with such intensity I feel the need to look away.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I say, trying to dismiss whatever claim he's about to bring up

Shayne let's out a sigh, sky blue eyes dark against the dim lighting.

"What are you getting at."

"Look," he begins, "you know I don't like getting inside your business or commenting on things that don't involve me."

"Right."

"You know I'm not one to make assumptions or be confrontational, right?"

I stay silent.

"I care about you a lot, Courtney." He begins, taking a seat next to me. I can't bring myself to
lift my gaze; I relent to looking at my shoes. Somehow, I know the moment that I look at him, I'll burst into tears.

"You haven't told me anything that has made me come to this conclusion," he continues, choosing his words carefully, "but I have eyes, and I've known you for so long now that I've come to pick up on the small notions that you do."

My mind is running with every word he speaks.

"You like Angela." He says, direct and to the point.  I can't help but lift my eyes up to meet his, and he's looking at me with such a tender expression—one that's so him —that it makes my eyes water at the corners. I quickly try to blink them away.

“You like Angela, and that scares you." He continues, pushing through the uncomfortableness that is all of this. "I came to that conclusion two months ago, when I caught you smiling and giggling after Angela invited you to come hang out at her house."

I roll my eyes. "I smile and giggle when I go to Olivia's house too."

He gives me an unimpressed look. I frown.

"Okay, there might be some truth to your claim."

Shayne laughs and I roll my eyes.

—

It all came together so fast.

I'm here at Smosh, sitting and watching everyone that enters the room with a bouncing leg. They all come in before you, Shayne and Chanse, Amanda and Tommy. Finally, after ten minutes of waiting, I spot you entering the room.

You're all messy hair and maroon button up and beat down sneakers. Any coherent thought extinguished the moment I looked at you. You don't spare a glance at me, and my heart races as I quickly stand up from where I'm seated and catch your arm in a frenzy.

You look at me with wide brown eyes.

"I need to show you something." I breath out, hand sliding down your arm subconsciously.

"Okay," you reply in the same tone.

I grab your arm and lead you away to the back, not caring that Shayne is watching us with a shit eating grin on his face.
—

I pull the door to the green room open, and the moment you stumble in, I slam you against the door—mouth hot on yours. A soft sound emerges deep from within you, and I sigh the moment your hands land on my hips. You don't respond right away, but when you do, you're pressing hard into me to the point where you're the one flipping me over until I'm being roughly pressed against the door. I can't help the small moan that leaves my mouth when I feel the door handle press firmly against my back.

My hands reach up to cup your jaw, and your kissing me with so much passion; It has me  groaning softly against your mouth. I move my hands to tangle them up in your hair—oh, how I've been wanting to do that—and then your hands are gripping me tightly, pulling me closer until I'm fully pressed up between you and the door.

It's messy and sloppy and altogether carnial the way we're moving against each other. I can't stop myself from kissing your pretty mouth, from feeling your soft lips against me and making my head spin until the only coherent word I can breath out is your name.

You pull away for a second to look at me, and I'm opening my mouth so say something when I feel your lips detach themselves to my jaw, slowly kissing down the column of my neck. My fingers on your hair tighten with each open mouth kiss you leave.

"Angela," I breath out, whimpering when you suck hard above my collarbone.

"Court," you say in the same manner, pulling away to look at me again. I can't help but whimper at the sight of you— all swollen lips and ravished hair and rosy cheeks.

You look so unbelievably and utterly fucked.

"Is this," your voice is shaky, "is this okay?”

"I'm the one that shoved you against a wall." I giggle, moving my fingers alongside the hem of your shirt, "I should be the one asking you this."

"I'm great." You reply, lips coming to rest at my jaw, "more than great, actually."

"I'm sorry for ignoring you. I'm not very good at this.”

"S'okay," you laugh, making me smile, "this definitely makes up for it."

My hands hover around the hem of your button up before slipping underneath, running my fingers across your back. I bite my lip as a shiver runs through you. I don't even care that we're at work right now or that someone could just walk in and catch us like this. It's euphoric, being pressed up against you like this.

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to return my feelings just because I—”

"Angela, if you don't shut up and kiss me again I'm going to push you down against this couch and do it myself."

A pause.

"Is that a threat?"

My fingers slip from underneath your shirt and push you so hard against the shoulder blades that you end up stumbling back on to the couch. I smirk at your wide eyes before walking forward and sliding my leg over you, accommodating myself on your lap.

I lean forward until my lips meet your ear.

"It's a promise."

And then you’re pulling me in and kissing me so hard it has my head spinning and my heart racing.

—

"You look...interesting."

I raise my middle finger, walking past Shayne and into the games set.

"Not a word."

He laughs, big and full.

—

"Courtney, Angela. Thank you for finally joining us."

I sheepishly take a seat next to Shayne the minute we arrive to set—late and unannounced. You take a seat next to Chanse, and I awkwardly clear my throat.

"There was a problem with my car. I had Angela give me a ride." I say, trying to sound casual and not like I'd just spent the last twenty minutes in the break room making out with you.

"Your car had a problem, so you had Angela come and give you a ride?" Spencer questions, making you roll your eyes in offense.

"Hey, why did you say it like that."

"No worries," Shayne suddenly says, turning towards me with a small smirk. There's a glint in between the blue of his eyes that has me twitching my eye. I know he knows that's a lie, I was here earlier with him. I just hope his big mouth stays shut in the meantime.

"Wait," Chanse says, turning towards you with a shit eating grin.

“You gave Courtney a ride," he wiggled his brows, turning to look at Shayne. I glare at them through the blush that's starting to build on my face. You don't look any better either.

"Angela gave you a ride, huh?" He smirks, making my face heat up at the insinuation.

"Fuck off," You say, hitting Chanse in the shoulder blade as he wheezes next to Shayne.

Spencer is looking just as lost as I feel, and I bury my face in my hands as a way to hide my embarrassment.

"Y’all thought you were slick," Chanse cries, tears forming at the corner of his eyes, "I was walking towards the restroom when I saw you two practically sprint towards the break room."

"Woah really?" Spencer questions, turning towards me with a smirk. I'm so mortified I can't even look at him in the eyes.

This whole situation is so absurd.

"Okay, can we please begin the video now? We're already behind schedule.”

—

As the day comes to an end, something does change.

This time, I do linger around the parking lot long enough for a good night kiss. Your sheepish smile as you get into your car is worth every second.

I definitely could get used to this.