“Do you think I could get on the judging panel?” Emmitt asks idly. “None of these pricks would know a good film if it slapped them in the face. Pending our results, of course.”

I tilt my head up to look at him, seeing his face upside down. “Probably. You should’ve planned ahead. You could be sitting on our screen instead right now.”

He raises an eyebrow, a sliver of a smile passing across his face. “I rather like where I am right now.”

“I bet you do,” I say, pinching his leg without any real intent.

Emmitt chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Are the two of you quite finished?” Grant asks, wrinkling his nose. “The livestream is working again.”

I shrug, and my heart skips a beat when Emmitt winks at me, sitting back upright. “I suppose we are.”

We turn back to the screen as they give out an award for the film with the best cinematic score. I resist the urge to scowl—who has a score for a fifteen-minute film?

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out from between my legs to look at the notification.

ANAM RAHMAN: ur finding out soon right??

ANAM RAHMAN: good luck !!!!! love you

ME: yes thank you sm love you !!! I’ll see you when I get homeee

ANAM RAHMAN: I already have tonight’s movies picked out <3 tell my brother in law he’s invited if he brings me chocolate

ME: I will do no such thing!!! text him yourself if ur willing to risk ma and baba’s wrath

ANAM RAHMAN: they’re going to chachi’s house again we are temporarily freeeeee

ME: well I guess nothing is stopping you then!!

Recently, my parents have been leaving the house more and more often. As if they can’t stand to be in the same place as me and Anam. In an ironic way, it’s like we’ve finally won, but this victory is bittersweet at best.

I set my phone down, and behind me, I feel the vibration of Emmitt’s phone buzzing. When I glance back at him, he’s grinning at his screen.

He and Anam have taken to each other alarmingly well ever since I officially introduced them. I think it’s the chaotic energy in both of them.

At any rate, Emmitt types out a quick reply, then tugs my earlobe lightly. “I’ll be seeing you tonight?”

“Only if you’re ready to run at a second’s notice,” I say in return, well aware of my parents’ specific brand of boy-induced outrage from the time Anam got caught with her ex-boyfriend and nearly died. “We have a back door.”

“Duly noted,” Emmitt says, his voice heavy with amusement. “I’ve gotten quite a lot of practice running from fans, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”