Do You Have To Make Me? [TAG: Benjamin]

[Phoebe Campbell]

It was the Emmys. Everyone should have been cheery and two bottles of wine deep down by now. Truth be told Phoebe had taken advantage of the drinking but she had a higher tolerance than she would have liked (it certainly made drinking as an extracurricular activity more expensive!) especially given the stress she was currently feeling at the award ceremony. One of the episodes she had written was up for a nomination and the company had insisted she attend despite her lack of fondness for award ceremonies (which she found pretty stupid). Still.. What if she won? That was the thought that brought her out of her seat and into the coat room. It wasn't like she would be missing anything of interest just a few awards for acting, a director award, some production award... Either way she still had some time to kill and get those pesky, nervous butterflies that she claimed to not care about at bay.

She was currently hiding out in with a six pack that she had swiped from the bar when the bartender hadn't been looking. Yes, beer was more her speed as she knocked it against the wall managing to get the cap off and into the waste paper basket. Perfect for paper, waste, and bottle caps. USBC could pay for the wall damage if she was found out. Speaking of... "Ok. So you found me." She noted, not looking at Benjamin Velvet when he entered the room but recognizing who it was just from the fancy get up. "Sneaky, sneaky." She murmured taking a sip of her Stella right out of the bottle like one of the boys. Hopefully he wasn't here to lecture her or wasn't sent by someone else in the writing staff to drag her out. Either way there was more of a comfort level than the two had previously (involving mild ripping/flirtation) due to the fact that they had spent a lot of time over the summer together due to him producing her indie film which was due to release any day now which was probably why this award ceremony meant a little more than she was letting on. She didn't want her film to bomb but even more so she didn't want to let everyone down including Benjamin who had put his money into it.

"You want one?" The American writer offered trying to keep up the guise of casual indifference as she reached into the holder and held out a glass bottle for him. "They're not really cold or anything. I borrowed them." Yeah that was what she did. She didn't feel too guilty for swiping it either way. She was a guest and had left a hefty tip. Sure. That justified it. "You're not going to tattle on me are you, Velvet?" She joked with him, though a part of her was serious. With a heavy sigh she sat herself down on a nearby box looking up at him. "I actually really like it in here. It's bigger than my apartment in the city." She gave another box a rough kick with her flat clad foot and slid it toward Ben to sit if he so wished. "What do you think rent is?"

[Benjamin Velvet]

Benji wasn't feeling this tonight. Sure, he should have been living in the lap of luxury he had built for himself since this WAS the Emmys and he WAS up for a nomination for one of his movies as well as a short film. However he wasn't feeling like a million dollars in his Armani suit. He felt a little more overwhelmed than usual and honestly, there was one lovely lady to thank for that. With Phoebe here he found himself wanting to give all of his attention to the one person in their group who only wanted to hide. And he himself felt like hiding currently as well.

He casually turned down a corner and stopped, spotting her and he stopped, his jacket draped over his arm. His grin was instant and probably rather obvious. "I promise I wasn't hunting you down. I just happened to get lucky." And lucky he was seeing her leaning there, a beer in hand, pressed to the wall. It just made him grin even wider as he gently took his jacket and set it down, draping it over the box and taking one, pulling his bottle opener out of his pocket to pop the top off.

He took a long sip and moved to lean next to her on the wall. "Borrowed, eh? Well I do hope no one wishes them back." He smirked and took another long sip, a tiny wince at the warm beer. "I came to hide myself, love. Your secret is safe with me." Watching her he sat as well, grinning. "Not planning on collecting your glory?"

[Phoebe Campbell]

Lucky? "I guess you can brag to all of your pals that you have the distinct honor of hanging out in a coat closet with me then. Lucky you indeed." She smirked. At least now that they had spent some time together while working on her movie she could catch on when he was teasing. Before she really didn't know and she really hadn't cared if she didn't. She was just that kind of person who relished in pressing buttons and getting a certain sort of fun reaction out of another person. Luckily Benjamin hadn't run and hid during the entire summer if anything he seemed to open up even more which she rather liked.

Phoebe rose her brow as the man set his jacket out on the box and sat down. "Trying to keep your butt clean?" The American woman asked bluntly as Benjamin drew a bottle opener out of his pocket. "I guess you're just always prepared, huh?" Certainly more so than her out of the two of them. Still, it was funny that he carried around a bottle opener like one of the writer crew. He didn't strike her as a beer sort of guy with his suits and whatnot. Maybe there were more surprises to this producer yet.  

She rested her head against the wall with a sigh at his comment. "You're acting like I won something. I'm just nominated. It doesn't mean anything." Phoebe mused flatly taking a large sip of the warm beer without even a flinch. She had tasted far worse in her lifetime. This time she chose not to correct him when he called her love. It always made her feel uneasy with pet names. Uncomfortable. But with Benjamin it was a different kind of lack of comfort. She didn't totally hate it. It just made her feel things. Things that she knew she shouldn't but didn't know what to call them. It was weird. Especially after the summer. And she was on her own trying to figure it out. She couldn't very well tell the producer after all. Not if they wanted to continue working together. "And it doesn't mean anything even if I do. I'm still the same person. A silly trophy doesn't change anything." Except you know... Getting paid more and potentially some other job offers with different studios. Phoebe loved writing for Friday Night Live though. She didn't want to give it up. Even imagine having to.

"You already bored with the song and dance?" She asked trying to change the subject and distract him.