Starstruck (Aaron and Amethyst)

Holy shit, he couldn't believe this.

Aaron was just a small-time reporter for a small-time magazine, he knew that. And he was very, very happy with it. He had a small flat which was probably one-hundredth of the size of his old Castle, and he had never been more satisfied, because he had earned it, not inherited it. He was working his way towards success through his merit, not his name. But hell, he never thought he'd be interviewing Amethyst Sinclair.

He wasn't usually a fan of girl voices, but Amethyst was damn good. And bloody famous. Wanderlust was just a small magazine, so interviewing a celebrity like her, that too an exclusive, was huge. And he was the one entrusted with the responsibility of not messing it up. She was sitting right now, in one of the conference rooms inside the publishing house, waiting for him. Aaron rubbed the back of his head in nervousness. But what had to be done, had to be done.

He stood up, with quaking nerves (this reminded him of one of those god-awful formal parties full of royal snobs), and knocked on the door softly, "May I come in?"

Amethyst was so excited when she found out that Wanderlust wanted to interview her. Sure, Wanderlust wasn't as big as the other magazines, but it was quite a long time since she's been interviewed.

She had even practiced, so she wouldn't mess up. And, she promised herself not to lie at all, unless the question was uncomfortable. She believed she was prepared, but, of course, something bad would happen in the end.

Amethyst's train of thought was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. That better be the reporter. "Yes, you may," she replied. She watched as the door opened and revealed the interviewer.

The soprano voice called him in. Aaron blinked rapidly, then pushed the door open. He took a cautious step inside, eyes automatically fixating on the only person in the room, Amethyst Sinclair. She looked gorgeous in real life, bright eyes, casual clothing and yet utterly stylish. Aaron felt his mouth run dry. He walked towards the table behind which she was sitting, two steaming cups of coffee on the top, and extended a hand towards her, “Good morning.”

But then, his elbow nudged one of the cups, it trembled tremulously and fell. On Amethyst’s lap. Shit “I’…I’m so sorry” Aaron stumbled over his words, his voice accented with a slight East European tinge due to his nervousness. No, you idiot. You’re British, not Romanian. Remember? “I-I’ll clean it up right now.”

He pointed his wand at her lap, muttering ‘Scourgify’. The mess was cleaned, but Aaron ducked his head, cursing himself inwardly. God, she would think he was such an idiot. And a trash reporter.

Amethyst nodded and said, "Good morning." She had almost reached for his hand... what the fuck. A cup of coffee spilled on her lap. It was nothing. Yeah, she ruined a great outfit, but it was okay. She totally didn't want to strangle the reporter now. She was cool. Yeah. Totally cool. Way cool. Never been better.

She cleared her throat and muttered, "It's all right." Then she sighed when the reporter cleaned the mess himself. She had already pulled out a handkerchief, so she dabbed at the spot, to make sure it wasn't wet anymore.

Merlin, the reporter just walked in and it's already a mess! she thought,, mentally groaning. "Er, so, you'd know I'm Amethyst Sinclair... er, so, what's you're name? Just wanted to know before we started," Amethyst said.

Oh crap. She had the 'Look' on the her face. You know, the look. The one people give you when they're really mad at you, but can't express it. The I'd-hex-you-to-Jupiter-right-now-but-I-have-to-be-polite sort of look. Aaron knew the look well. He had been on the receiving end of the 'Look' too many times in his experience of way-too-many balls and ceremonious occasions as the too-clumsy son of a Count.

Two minutes into the interview and I'm already a loser.

No, shut up Aaron. You can do this. Aaron encouraged himself mentally, then cleared his throat, feeling a bit self-conscious. Amethyst asked for his name in an exasperated manner, smile forced and brittle around the edges. "Uh....Aaron. Aaron Montague. Reporter for WanderLust." Aaron almost brought his hand to rub the back of his neck in a familiar nervous gesture, but controlled himself just in time. He took the seat opposite her, withdrawing his notepad and Dicta-Quill. The East European accent still leaked out despite the best of his efforts, "Th-thank you for accepting the interview, Miss Sinclair. Wanderlust is privileged to have this exclusive with you. Sha-shall we begin?"

Amethyst raised her eyebrows a bit when she saw a slightly-panicked expression on his face. Whoa, she didn't mean to make him that uncomfortable. Actually, she wasn't even aiming to make him uncomfortable. She was just pissed off, really, it was a totally good outfit and he just had to spill coffee on it!

She cleared her throat once more, when he asked a question. "You're welcome," she said, "and let's begin." For a while she thought she heard something... wrong in Aaron's voice. She just couldn't put her finger on it. Amethyst shrugged it off as they began.

Amethyst was looking at him strangely, almost as if surprised to see that he was becoming uncomfortable. It was kind of obvious to Aaron really, he had always felt out of place in professional or formal settings, and of course, there was the mind-numbing fact that Amethyst Sinclair was sitting in front of him right now. You're here to interview her. Not to goggle over her like a mindless fan.

And there was the curiosity in those eyes. It almost felt like Amethyst had caught the accent in his voice, and was unable to figure out where exactly was this manner of speaking from. Aaron drew in a deep breath, carefully cultured his voice to what he called his 'British voice', and started. "Miss Sinclair, you've always been a great inspiration to all the young girls out there who've aspired to become singers. What,or who, would you say would be your inspiration? What inspired you to make music?"

Amethyst blinked at the question. "Mmm... my inspiration? I honestly do not know what made me do it," she said with a light laugh, "when I was still at school I sang a lot, I loved doing it, and I really wanted to be a singer. But I never really thought I'd do it, it just happened, and here I am now."

Aaron raised his eyebrows at the answer, he certainly hadn't been expecting it. Most celebs he had interviewed had spun elaborate stories about their inspiration, ranging from the overly emotional to the ludicrous. One even said that Merlin told him to make music in a dream, and Aaron could do nothing but snort inwardly and obediently copy down the answer. And best of all, the public actually believed it. So to gain such an......honest answer from Amethyst was surprising....and pleasing. Aaron smiled.

Then he stuttered, just a little, over the next question on the list of questions handed to him by his superior, "Miss Sinclair, the public is extremely curious about your uh....love life." Hell, Aaron hated these kind of questions. Someone's private life was their private life. But this unfortunately was a part of his job. So with an apologetic note in his voice, he continued, "So....any current um...relationship?"

Amethyst couldn't help it; she snorted at the next question. "The last relationship I had was five years ago, and it was a disaster. So, no, no relationships at the moment," she said truthfully. "He was sooo critical of my work. 'Change this, change that, no what are you doing?'..." She took a deep breath and a sip of coffee.

Aaron winced in sympathy. "Yeah, that pretty much sucks. If we had wanted someone to judge and correct us every step of the way, we'd have started dating our parents." Aaron let out a chuckle at the thought, a crooked grin making its way on his lips. All people who wanted to be tiger-moms and dads should take parenting lessons from his parents.

Then he remembered that this was an interview, not a casual chat, that he was a reporter, and not supposed to contribute his own opinion. So cursing himself inwardly yet again, Aaron glanced down at the question list and proceeded with the next, "So...uh.....what would you like in a...uh...'dream man'?" Curse his editor for being so gossip-driven. Couldn't he have given more questions like the first one?