The movement was sharp and intent, as if an idea had just smacked him upside the jaw and snapped his head in her direction. "Do you have any formalwear?"

"What?" Avicia's eyebrows lowered with confusion as suspicion colored her tone, "Why?"

"There's a charity event on Saturday," Kahdreg spoke as he placed his dry cleaning on his director's chair. His tone came off as matter-of-fact and cool, as if Avicia should understand right away. "It's a good chance to maintain good connections and maybe get some more investors."

Still not understanding, Avicia frowned. "And what's this have to do with me?"

"If I go without a plus one, I'll be bothered all night by... certain people."

So, he wanted her to be his... date? Or whatever the business version of such a thing was. Briefly, she amusedly thought 'escort' might apply here, but shook the thought away. It didn't escape her how his nose wrinkled while thinking about these 'other people' at a social event. He didn't even want to go. Shaking her head, Avicia gave a beleaguered sigh. "Is this really covered in my personal assistant duties?"

"No," he admitted after a moment. His jaw worked back and forth, obviously displeased with her not jumping on the chance to attend. "Did you have other plans?"

"Yes." Avicia answered automatically and jutted her chin out, a steeliness in her eye as if daring him to say otherwise.

Kahdreg raised an eyebrow. After a beat of silence, wherein she made it clear she wasn't going to feed him the answers without prompting, he prodded, "What are they?"

"I do have a personal life, sir." She added in her head, I'm not obligated to talk to you about it, either.

The director's jaw continued to work back and forth as he thought. Avicia realized the motion made the tips of his tusks graze over his cheeks. Faintly, she wondered if this was something equivalent to her biting the inside of her cheeks, but Kahdreg's commanding voice broke the curious thought, "Well, cancel whatever you have planned. You're going to this event with me."

"Bu-" She started, anger rising to a boil.

"Weekends are double pay and a half."

Avicia's mouth snapped closed, but a flush of heat bled into her cheeks. She hated herself for being so easily swayed with money, how it made her look. But the image of medical bills accumulating on her fridge flickered through her thoughts. The hatred turned toward Kahdreg as he gave her a slight smirk, as if he'd known the money would convince her. That look made Avicia's stomach lurch with dread and anger. Also, with something else that made her squirm.

She swallowed down the sensations warring in her stomach and reached for the first excuse that popped into her mind. "I don't have anything appropriate for such a function."

The orc shot her a look, with one eyebrow curiously raised. He seemed about to say something, before he shrugged and returned his attention to his phone, tapping something across the screen. Her eyes flickered to the phone, willing it to suddenly combust in his hands. It seemed he had decided and he believed that was the end of it. "I need to shop for a new tux, anyway. We can pick up something for you, too."

"You're paying for a dress for me?" Avicia scoffed, partially disbelieving this turn of events while realizing it was totally in Kahdreg's character. He had basically strong armed her into this position, too. Though it was a very lucrative job, something about how he went about these decisions chafed. Her eyes flickered to the rest of the crew, willing someone - anyone! - to interrupt this hijacking of her life.

"It'll come out of your pay," he replied, eyes still on his phone. Though, as he turned his eyes to her, he gave her a stern warning, "So don't go overboard."

Her lips pursed as she stared up at him. She was a hair's breadth from outright glaring. He cooly kept her gaze, patiently waiting for her answer. Her mind flung around lie after lie, trying to make one stick and seem plausible. Every time, her brain fed her a reminder of the weekend wage coupled with images of the bills awaiting at home. She could take a large chunk out of that growing number in one night.

Around them, the crew continued to bustle. However, Avicia thought she felt a few lingering eyes and heard some whispered gossip arising. They always seemed to watch when she and Kahdreg spoke. It sent an uncertain itch across her shoulders. They couldn't come to her salvation, but they'd watch her flounder. Though, by their grins, they misconstrued the intent of the interaction.

Unable to find an excuse that could put up a fight against double-and-a-half pay, Avicia's shoulders slumped. The twitch of a satisfied smile had already crossed Kahdreg's lips before she spoke. That grin only made her words feel bitter on her lips, "Fine, sir."

—

It wasn't until the day of the charity event, when Mr. Vidaroc managed to find time to go shopping. After multiple attempts and failed excuses, Avicia found herself standing outside of a high-end suit store, at godsdamn five in the morning, in the midst of a drowsing downtown. What sort of specialty store was open at such a terrible hour?!

Though, that wasn't fair. Many places stayed open at all sorts of hours, catering to clientele that had a more literal nightlife than most. And at this point, Kahdreg needed to get this suit bought. Avicia wasn't even certain he'd have time to get it tailored or pressed for the evening.

If he looked poorly put together, all the better, she pettily thought. He shouldn't have forced her into this position.

Exhaustion clawed at her eyelids and sunk into her bones. In an effort to maintain her relationship with Bellamy's supporters, she stayed up late performing. She partially regretted the decision. Today was going to be long enough without battling sleep deprivation.

"I don't see why I had to help you with this," she sighed, as soon as they entered the store. Inside, the air conditioned store held racks and rows of an array of tuxedos and suits. A faint earthy scent kissed the dry air. Some sort of aromatic spray, Avicia assumed.

Kahdreg didn't seem perturbed by Avicia's tone as he maneuvered further into the store. "An outsider's eye helps in choosing a suit."

"I don't have an eye for fashion," she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest as she trailed behind him.

"I find that hard to believe. You're well put together." At that, Kahdreg paused, glancing down at Avicia. She glared back up at him, daring him to say anything. She'd bypassed her usual regimen of curated outfits and make-up. Today, she wore a simple tee-shirt and jeans, topped with a hoodie and grubby sneakers. A corner of his lips curled into a smirk. "Well, usually."

Finding some foothold in excusing herself from his presence - maybe even the event, entirely - Avicia grabbed onto it. "My work outfits were gifts, anyway. I aim for comfort, when I can."

Kahdreg's brows furrowed in confusion, his head cocking to the side. "That seems like a lot of clothes to have gifted to you. And it takes skill to coordinate clothing and make-up."

A chill coiled in Avicia's stomach and she pressed her lips together, cursing herself for saying that. She blamed her tiredness. Many of the clothes she wore were gifts from fans and those fans had photosets of her in them. None of them work appropriate images. But who would believe friends or family would buy her a wardrobe of work clothes?

The make-up was easier to explain away. Plenty of people dabbled in the artistry, even if they didn't wear it every day.

Before she could scrape together an excuse, a salesperson puttered up to Kahdreg. Avicia thanked the gods for the distraction, even if the cloyingly sweet tone of the employee put her teeth on edge. A sense of surreality descended as Kahdreg smiled back at the salesperson - a full-blown, toothy smile that made everything about him suddenly seem achingly approachable - explaining he sought a suit for a gala that very evening.

Avicia narrowed her eyes at him. A sudden thought shifted into her head. Was Mr. Bad Attitude a morning person? Or was her exhaustion making his edges seem softer?

Whatever the case, she drifted away from the two to finger through a rack of tuxedo jackets in all sizes, shapes, and colors. From dwarfish and gnome sizes, to human, to minotaur and orcs. It was stunning to visually see the size differential on one rack. Idly, she wondered what size Kahdreg was. With a quick shake of her head, Avicia dislodged that thought before it went down the 'Bellamy route.' Of all the things, she didn't need to think about that today.

"Hey." Avicia jumped, spinning around to find Kahdreg close behind her. He was flicking through his phone, not even looking at her. He thumbed in the direction of what appeared to be a waiting area, right outside the fitting rooms. "The salesperson is going to pick me out some things. Said to wait over there."

Avicia raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay, so go wait."

"Come with me."

"Why?" Avicia rolled her eyes, a bit of pettiness frothing in her thoughts. She didn't even want to go to the godsforsaken event, let alone be shopping at this hour. The fact Kahdreg didn't even look up while asking - no, telling her - to accompany him rubbed her the wrong way. "You're a big boy. I'm sure you'll be fine."

At that, Kahdreg did glance up. His eyebrows ticked upward a little, as if surprised by Avicia's attitude. She braced herself for some snarling reply, but only got a wry smile and a smug, "Good, you noticed I'm big. Come on, cranky."

Who was this man? Avicia glared after him, heat warming her cheeks warmed as he made his way to the designated area. Could she report him for that innuendo? Or was it ambivalent enough to be innocent? He didn't even turn to beckon her to follow. He just assumed she'd follow. Well, at least that was classic Kahdreg, she supposed. Confusion and annoyance sizzled in her as she trailed after him.

They headed toward what looked like the waiting and modeling area in what Avicia had seen on all those bridal shows. Except it was done up in dark wood and rich colors; giving off an inherently masculine feel.

A semi-circle of mirrors skirted one side of a dais, where someone could see how they looked in their new duds from every reflected angle. On the other side of the platform, pushed back enough for the sake of foot traffic, were a curved line of chairs. All made of some rich wood and plush fabric, which made the furniture look as if it'd be more at home in a bougie study.

When she came up alongside him, crossing her arms and glaring off into the distance. His comment on her attitude had stuck, mildly gnawing at her. Grudgingly, she muttered, "Sorry, not everyone can be a morning person."

At that, Kahdreg laughed. "Are you accusing me of being a morning person?"

"You're much more pleasant than when you're yelling and pitching a fit over small details at work," she shot back. Part of Avicia railed against her words. They were too brash and informal. She was treading some dangerous lines. But exhaustion had broken her reins on her mouth. "I can only guess you like getting up at the asscrack of dawn."

"Trust me, I'd much rather be snuggled down in bed right now," he replied with a more familiar, grumbly tone. "I just waited too long to get this suit."

Avicia snorted, as if she didn't believe he'd spend his mornings, lounging in bed. Though, her brain picked at the fact he waited so long to shop. Of course, he always seemed rather busy. But, did he not want to shop for a tux, at the same time? The thought brought to mind the ways she avoided certain chores with other, 'more necessary,' jobs.

"Anyway, you talk as if you're never unpleasant."

"Excuse you." Her eyes flashed to his face, instantly offended at the mere suggestion. "My co-workers find me very easy to work with."

"Is that so?" Still, that infuriating and easy-going grin didn't falter. That look was beginning to grate on Avicia's nerves. The sensation she was losing grip on how to interact with her boss wasn't helping, either. "Well, you haven't called me sir once today. Kinda missing it."

"That's all you got?" Avicia scoffed, clearly not agreeing with his definition of 'unpleasant.' Before she could stop herself, a classic Bellamy reply curled from her lips, "That's extra on the weekends."

His bark of laughter made her heart jump. She eyed him, still unable to get a hold on the situation. It was unnerving her. A sullen, grouchy, demanding Kahdreg was something she was prepared to handle. Not... this.

At that moment, the salesperson came to Avicia's salvation. With Kahdreg's attention sufficiently diverted to fabric, Avicia turned toward one of the overstuffed chairs. Flopping down, she pulled out her personal phone and scrolled through her socials. Soon enough, she was lost in a familiar sea of cute animal videos, memes, politics, and more. For a good amount of time, she entirely forgot where she was and what errand she was on.

Kahdreg's voice jarred her back to reality, her eyes snapping up as he asked, "Well, how do I look?"