When you’re the girlfriend of a pretty famous actress, you can’t help but get the urge to Google yourself sometimes. Or to Google your girlfriend, because hey: she’s the one who’s famous and not you.
Paige’s name has been cropping up in articles about Nikki lately, though, so it’s her own name that she taps into the search bar this time. There’s been an increase in the number of results about her altogether, but she isn’t going to bother with most of those – just the major ones. It’s vaguely terrifying, to be honest, and while she knows she shouldn’t exactly be doing it – just for her own wellbeing, even – she can’t help it. At least she knows to never read the comments.
The first article looks harmless: just photos of the two of them together at the beach recently. Nine months ago Paige going to the beach would have been a news item in itself among her own non-famous friends, but Los Angeles did something to her. Nikki did something to her.
Paige’s name isn’t mentioned in the headline, though. Just Nikki Bella and friend. OK, then. Maybe that ought to be girlfriend but she isn’t going to kick up a fuss about it, not until she’s actually read the whole thing.
She skims through the beginning of the article – she hasn’t been mentioned yet so there’s little point in taking her time – but finds herself stopping at some shots of Nikki, just because it’s impossible for her not to. Nikki looks gorgeous as always, effortlessly beautiful even in candids. Eventually, it gets to a photo of them, and Paige smiles at the sight, until... until she sees the caption, that is. Nikki with gal pal, Paige Knight.
Gal pal? Paige snorts at the term and moves to the next news story: another recollection of the same day.
Except it crops up again. And again. Gal pal. Female friend. Just about anything to retract from the fact that Nikki and Paige are actually together. Even the ones that acknowledge the fact that they’re in a relationship seem to think that Paige is just some kind of phase for Nikki. It hurts. It really does. It’s not like they’re trying to keep quiet about it – Nikki tweets about Paige and posts photos of them both on Instagram for the whole world to see. Some of those articles have pictures of them kissing in them, for God’s sake, and despite it all, Paige is just referred to as a friend.
Either a friend or some kind of fleeting, fanciful experiment that Nikki’s indulging herself in. Paige isn’t sure which is worse. She exits the tab, exits the browser, and throws her phone back down on the bed beside her without even bothering to lock it. Perhaps Nikki’s right: Googling yourself really isn’t the way to go. Paige just feels the urge to, sometimes, and before she knows it she’s done it and she’s reading every assumption that people she doesn’t even know are making about her.
Almost as soon as her phone’s been flung down, though, it’s buzzing there on the sheets, and – it’s Nikki. Paige picks up.
“You ready for tonight, babe?”
Oh yeah, tonight. Paige has been to some parties with Nikki before (and no doubt been called a gal pal in the tabloids that detail them, she’s now discovered), but nothing as high-end as this, as a film premiere. They’re going there and back in a limo. A limo! Paige can’t quite believe that this is her life right now. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to let go of it if the time for it comes, which all those articles seemed to think would be happening soon.
“As ready as I can be before actually getting dressed for it, I suppose. I just hope my outfit will be enough.” Paige knows that her outfit will be a little dressier than usual this time, considering the event is important. Even so, she’s still not exactly sure it’ll be premiere appropriate.
“Of course it is! You look stunning in that dress, Paige. Everyone will think so–” Paige cringes a little at that – what will the gossip sites think, all the ones who’ve been calling her Nikki’s friend, Nikki’s gal pal? “–but the most important thing is that you like it on you, and that I like it, too. And I do. You’ve just gotta have confidence, OK?”
Maybe that’s the solution to all of this – just thinking about how she and Nikki feel, no-one else. It’s difficult, though. Difficult when you can read all about yourself online, even if the journalists get it wrong most of the time.
“I’ll try,” she tells Nikki. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ll be around to pick you up soon, so you better be dressed and ready for hair and makeup. And then we’ll be off, OK? Love you!”
“Right,” Paige says. “I love you, too.”
They say their goodbyes, and once the call is over, Paige sets her phone down on the bed again and lies back. Whatever happens, it’s going to be an interesting night.
A few hours later, and Nikki and her team have showed up for hair and makeup. Paige doesn’t think it’s exactly customary for this to happen at the apartment of celebrities’ girlfriends, but she’s got her dress for the premiere on, just as Nikki told her to, and she’s as ready as she can be. It’s a small team, just a hair stylist and a makeup artist, but Paige still feels a little ill at ease about having them in here. She wonders if they’re judging her apartment, if they’re judging her, but – they’re just ordinary people, too, right? Just because they work for Nikki and are used to all the glamour of celebrities doesn’t mean they think they’re above it all. After all, Nikki doesn’t think she’s above it all. Why should her stylists?
Having someone styling her is strange, but it’s what Nikki’s used to, Paige supposes. It’s nice, though: not having to worry about getting her eyeliner wings exactly even, knowing there won’t be any hair accidentally left un-straightened because someone else is doing it for her.
“Ready to go?” Nikki asks once they’re satisfied with how they look. “The car’s waiting.”
Paige is ready.
Considering that they met during some of Nikki’s downtime, when she wasn’t making any movies, this is the first premiere Paige has been to and she isn’t completely sure what to expect. She just has to survive it, really: survive the photographers, the questions, the crowds. It would be a little overwhelming on her own, but with Nikki beside her, squeezing her hand and sending her soft, soothing smiles, Paige knows she can make it. It isn’t like her to feel shy, to withdraw into herself, but this is different.
She feels more comfortable when they’re finally sitting in front of the screen: when the lights around them are dimming and Nikki’s hand is in hers.
“So,” Nikki says, turning to Paige once the film’s finished, “what did you think?”
“Well,” Paige begins, reaching for Nikki’s hand, “the leading lady certainly was something, huh? I really enjoyed it. Honestly.”
Nikki gives her a wide smile.
“You’re too sweet,” she says. “Come on – after party time.”
Given the official nature of the event, it’s a step up from the other parties they’ve attended together, but not quite as glitzy and showy as the red carpet was with all its incessant flashing and seemingly never-ending questions.
And of course everyone in attendance wants some time with Nikki. It seems the two of them can’t even take a few steps without someone coming over to praise and congratulate her, and Paige glows with pride every time somebody does. That’s her girlfriend. Her talented, amazing girlfriend in one of her best roles so far.
Eventually, they manage to get a moment alone.
“You wanna stay a bit longer?” Nikki asks. “Or… sex in the limo on the way back to mine?”
Paige hardly has to make a decision there. Nikki says her goodbyes and makes sure the car’s waiting for them.
Nikki tells the driver to close the partition immediately after they climb into the backseat. Almost as soon as that’s been done, she’s on the floor of the limo on her knees in front of Paige.
“This is where I’ve been dying to be all day,” she purrs, leaning in to nuzzle at Paige’s thigh. “Look at this.” She traces a finger down where Paige is soaking through the lace of her panties, and Paige shudders at the touch. They’ve been together long enough for Nikki to know that Paige gets almost obscenely wet when she’s even just the slightest bit turned on, and now’s certainly no exception. “Such a dirty girl for me, aren’t you?”
Paige is helpless to do much other than nod; the way Nikki’s looking at her has her absolutely disarmed.
“Y-yeah,” she breathes. “Yeah, all for you. Oh, fuck.” Nikki’s lips are on her already, teasing her even though there’s still the barrier of her panties in the way.
“Let’s get these off you.” Nikki’s hands reach up to hook into Paige’s underwear, dragging the garment down as much as she can before Paige has to get off the seat for a moment so it can be pulled down her legs. “Mm, that’s it. So gorgeous and so, so wet.”
She practically dives in, tongue licking in a heavy stripe down and then back up to Paige’s clit in one smooth motion. Her touch gets lighter after that, just little flicks of her tongue over Paige’s clit until Paige is whimpering above her.
“Please, Nikki,” Paige begs, and Nikki sucks Paige’s clit into her mouth instead. The sensation of that is enough to get a moan out of her, loud and high and breathy.
Nikki pulls back sharply.
“Are you gonna be able to keep quiet for me, or do I have to gag you with your panties so you don’t scream?”
“I can – I can be quiet,” Paige promises, though they both know being quiet isn’t exactly her strong suit.
“Oh, we’ll see about that, baby,” Nikki teases, smirking before pushing Paige’s legs just a little further apart and moving her head in again. Her tongue is back on Paige’s clit, one finger slowly moving inside her. It’s enough that Paige is moaning through it, body shaking. Nikki doesn’t gag her, though. Not now. She likes to hear the sounds she draws out of Paige just as much as Paige likes to be loud for her.
The car comes to a stop. Nikki draws back from Paige again. Paige whimpers when she pulls away.
“Hm. Looks like we’re here.” Nikki gets herself up off the floor of the vehicle and sat next to Paige before the driver opens the door, Paige’s wet panties balled up in her fist. “Come on, babe.” She leads Paige out of the limo by the hand, giving her thanks to the driver before the two of them head indoors.
It isn’t the biggest or most expensive house Nikki could afford, but it’s still different to everything that Paige knows. Her own apartment isn’t something someone would turn their nose up at, but it isn’t this. The disparity between the two makes her think. Makes her think of how really, she’s just totally ordinary, of how Nikki could get bored of that at any moment, of how easily she’s sure Nikki could move on from her if they were to break up.
Nikki leans in to kiss her, but suddenly stops, right before their lips are about to meet.
“Hey,” she says, her voice quiet, seeming to catch Paige’s change of expression. “Are you OK?”
“Fine.” Paige makes her answer quick. It’s kind of embarrassing, really, that she’s so worked up over those articles. She can’t imagine Nikki being fazed by that kind of thing, and she’s the one who’s actually famous. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, really.”
“Paige. If you’re feeling… I don’t know, upset, I want you to feel like you’re able to tell me. Was it too much for you?”
Paige shakes her head. The premiere was fun, was fine. It’s nothing to do with that.
“No, I had a great time, I just – stuff online.”
“I was reading some articles earlier on. About us. Like, I know I shouldn’t because it’s all crap, but I can’t help it. And sometimes, I. Can’t help but take some of it to heart.”
As she speaks, Nikki’s face falls.
“Paige. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Paige shrugs, casting her eyes to the floor.
“Didn’t wanna like, dampen the atmosphere of your big night.”
“Oh, baby.” Nikki reaches out to take one of Paige’s hands in her own. “You’re way more important to me than whatever some tabloid journalist says about us. You know that, right? The people who write that shit really need to get lives of their own. Besides…” She pauses, as if she’s the one who’s feeling insecure now. “I’ve been thinking, and... how about you move in here with me?”
Paige’s eyes widen.
“Move in?” she asks, not quite able to believe it. “Here? With you?”
“Where else?” Nikki replies. She frowns a little. “Don’t you want to?”
“Of course I want to!” Paige exclaims. “I just – just didn’t expect it.”
“I want to be with you,” Nikki tells her, squeezing Paige’s hand. “Don’t let anybody tell you that I don’t. I want you to live here and I want to wake up next to you and I want you to want to do those things. So. Do you want to?”
“I do,” Paige says, firm. “I want it.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Nikki smiles, genuine, but then it starts bordering on a smirk. “Now. Back to where we were headed, huh?”
Paige nods, smirking right back. Nikki kicks her heels off and pushes Paige up against the wall to kiss her. Her hands wandering everywhere she can reach, and Paige welcomes it: this is one piece of Nikki, of their relationship, that the tabloids can never have.