Damon’s face did this strange thing, like he was debating whether or not he ought to be offended by the ferocity of Micah’s exclamation or not.

Micah sputtered. “Not- Not like that! It’s just…” – he fought to think of a valid reason for his meltdown – “didn’t you say it was dangerous to be associated with you?” he finally settled on. “What if your enemies, or rivals, or whatever, see us together and assume I’m important to you?”

Damon immediately softened. “You are important to me.” Do not read into that, Micah, do not, his brain warned him. “And I’m perfectly capable of protecting you.” The man must have been able to see that that didn’t ease Micah’s concerns at all, however – mostly because they weren’t Micah’s actual concerns – because he sighed. “But if you’re that worried about it, just turn into me when we step out of the vehicle. Hide your face in my shoulder, and we’ll walk quickly, okay? There are plenty of people attending the gala tonight more interesting than a real estate mogul like me. The press isn’t as likely to print my picture as, say, Beyoncé’s.

Micah gaped. “Beyoncé is here?”

The corner of Damon’s mouth twitched, and Micah’s eyes narrowed. “You’re fucking with me.”

Damon shrugged. “You’re going to have to go in to find out.”

At that point, Micah realized they were the next car in the line of fancy vehicles dropping off the gala’s guests at the start of the red carpet. He took a deep breath in through his nose to calm himself. “Fine.”

Following Damon’s instructions to shed his outer coat, he waited impatiently for the man to walk around and open his car door for him so Micah could hide himself as the man had suggested. Damon curled an arm around his shoulder, and Micah all but nuzzled his face into the man’s armpit.

They walked quickly.

There were lots of flashes in his peripheral vision and people shouting out for “Mr. Romano!”, but (thankfully) Micah only heard a handful of reporters demand to know who Damon’s date was before they were inside Gotham Hall, which was closed off to the press.

An attendant, or server – Micah wasn’t really sure how it worked, but the young man was wearing a burgundy vest and black tie that matched the rest of the staff he could see meandering around – greeted them. As soon as Damon said his name, he was leading them through the long entryway that opened into the grand hall.

It was breathtaking.

He and Damon must have been some of the last guests to arrive because the place was bustling with mingling people in fancy dresses and impressive suits. But they didn’t take away from the marvel of the room at all.