“I’m Mateo, Mateo Angeles. A journalist at On The Pulse. We had a phone interview yesterday.”

“Ahh," Emilio nodded, as if it all made sense now, "a reporter. Well, it’s not the first time I’ve slept with a reporter, though usually, it’s so that they don’t write a story, not after they already have.”

“No. We didn’t sleep together Mr. Everhart. And I haven't written the article yet. The interview article I mean! I’m not going to write anything about last night. And don’t worry I’m not a tabloid writer, I wouldn't exploit you like that.”

“Hmm," Emilio grinned. "Guess it did work after all.” 

“No, we didn’t—nevermind. Come on, I made you a shake that should help with that hangover.” Mateo said walking out of the room.

Emilio glanced around the bedroom again, trying to see if it jostled any memories, but none came. 

He spotted his clothes folded neatly on the desk next to the bed, his wallet resting on top. His phone was next to them. Carefully he reached for it and checked it, it’s battery usually lasted 3 days without charge so it still worked. 

“Ricki,” he said, waking his AI.

“Good morning Em.” His AI replied from his phone. 

“Send my location to my secondary phone.”

“GPS tracking enabled,” Ricki said.

Emilio checked his watch, it now had a green pulsing dot in the corner of the screen. 

He didn’t feel like he was in any danger but he could never be too sure, it was just a safe bet to send his location to his phone at home, just in case.

“Alright,” Emilio said as he walked out of the bedroom, pocketing his phone into the pocket of the pajama pants he was wearing and opening up his wallet. “Lay it on me.” 

“What?” Mateo said, handing Emilio the shake. 

“What’s this?” Emilio said taking the shake and staring at it suspiciously.  

“It'll help your hangover.”

Emilio nodded, walking over the kitchen island and sitting down. Setting his wallet down next to him and the shake in front of him. He took a tentative sip from the straw and mmm'd approvingly.

Mateo grinned. Another win for his articles. Ten hangover shakes that don't make you want to throw up. 

“How much?” Emilio asked after another long sip of the shake.  

“The shake? I made it.” 

“No, for last night.” Emilio said, grabbing his wallet again. 

“Oh um, don’t worry about it.”

“Come on.” Emilio said, pulling out a checkbook from his wallet. 

“Umm,” Mateo felt unjustifiably nervous. 

He’d never asked a celebrity for money before. He never really asked anybody for money. That’s how he was raised. He’d been taught that it was rude and impolite, it showed you hadn’t been raised right. 

But gas money was gas money.

“Twenty?” It came out more like a question, his voice uneven. 

“Twenty?!” Emilio’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped a little. 

“Uh, fifteen? Twenty-five?” Mateo said, panicking. 

Emilio looked genuinely sad and hurt. His brows knitted as he glanced around the apartment again. “What did you put up cameras or something?”

“What?”

“Forget it.” His voice sounded a little dejected and distant as he grabbed a small pen from his wallet and wrote Mateo a check.

“Here,” Emilio said, sliding the check towards Mateo as Mateo was taking a sip from his coffee. 

Mateo looked down at the check and choked on his coffee, spitting most of the sip he’d taken back into his mug. 

“DOLLARS!” He said, coughing past the coffee that had gone down the wrong tube, “I meant 20 dollars! For like the gas money and the gatorade and bread and pretzels and stuff I bought you!” 

Emilio cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at Mateo. 

He was genuinely confused. 

“I was asking how much you wanted to, you know, not extort me…”

Mateo was in shock. “Do people extort you often?!”

Emilio simply shrugged. “Not if Ginny gets them to sign an NDA first.” 

Mateo blinked a few times, still in shock as he stared at the check.

“Look,” Emilio finally said, running a hand through his face. “I was pretty messed up yesterday,” he avoided meeting Mateo’s eyes, “I - it wasn’t a good day for me. I’d feel better if you just took the money and promised not to tell anyone anything I may have-”

“You didn’t say anything.” Mateo blurted out. 

Emilio looked at him, unsure.

Mateo regretted the words as soon as he said them. They were a lie. He’s not sure why said it, he just didn’t want Emilio to worry. 

“I didn’t?” Emilio asked.

Mateo felt awkward now, he couldn’t just take it back and casually say, actually you did, you told me the biggest secret you’ve been holding onto for 15 years. 

“I mean,” Mateo said, “you threw up a lot. And you talked about the stars. And that thing about being too good to sleep on my couch.”

Emilio nodded slowly, still not looking fully convinced but visibly more relaxed. 

“Well,” he said, pushing the check closer to Mateo, “here at least take the money, for taking care of me and not wanting to extort me. Think of it as a thank you card.”

“Well then get me an actual thank you card! I -I mean- that’s just too much money Emilio. I, it doesn’t feel right.” 

“You do remember I’m rich right?” Emilio said.

When Mateo didn't react Emilio sighed, pulling back the check. 

“Alright, well how about,” he pulled out five hundred dollar bills and placed them in front of Mateo.

Mateo stared at them. 

Mateo felt like he wasn’t supposed to take the money. He could hear his mom’s voice in his head, shaming him for even thinking about it.

In his household, you did things out of love and kindness without any expectation for monetary reward. 

“It really wasn't that much trouble.” Mateo finally said, repeating the line from his childhood, though he didn't really want to.

“What time did I call you?

“Three am.” 

“Three am?!” Emilio repeated, eyes wide. “You left your house at 3 am, drove all the way to,” he looked out the nearest window then around the apartment. “I’ve got no idea where we are right now, but I'm sure it was far. And you bought me food and took care of me, but not advantage of me. Plus you washed my clothes, so I'm guessing I puked on them, which means I must have been a real pain in the ass to handle.”

“Not that much.”

“And all my money was still in my wallet and you didn’t try to break into my phone. And you made me this amazing shake, and the breakfast you’re cooking smells amazing-”

“Oh shoot,” Mateo quickly turned around to turn off the stove.

“And it’s Friday,” Emilio continued, “I’m sure you were supposed to be at work hours ago.”

“I called in sick,” Mateo said as he placed their breakfast in front of them.

“Well then,” Emilio said, adding another five hundred to the pile.  “All the more reason to take the money, I’m making you miss work.” 

Mateo had been starting to give in to the 500 but 1,000 felt like too much. 

He could feel his mom and his abuelita shaking their heads no at him. 

But dammit money was money and bills were bills and Emilio was rich and Mateo was very much not rich.

He felt awkward and a little ashamed as he nodded okay. 

Emilio grinned as Mateo took the money. 

“Thank god," Emilio said, "cause otherwise I would’ve had to leave them here hidden somewhere, and who knows if you would have ever found ‘em.”

Mateo chuckled feeling slightly better as he pocketed the thousand bucks.

“I didn’t do it for the money though, I just want you to know that,” Mateo said as he sat down at the island with Emilio.

Emilio looked at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as a soft smile slowly spread through his face,

“I know,” he said, “I don’t remember much about last night, but I know I just felt really safe here, that I knew this was a good place to be and that I lucked out calling you.”

Mateo grinned, blushing as he took a bite of his breakfast.