Asher was late to the event. Again. Every single event, he arrived an hour later. But it was part of his charm, now. Or, that's what he said each time as an excuse.

Stepping out of his fancy limo, with confident step and his characteristic charming smirk, Asher walked into the event, fixing the jacket of his suit. His eyes weren't focused on the thousands of cameras and yelling fans near him. Instead, he was looking for someone in specific.

Finally, he spotted him at the drink table, next to a random chick who was probably just an aspirant singer that managed to slip into the event with her daddy's money. Or that's the impression that this girl gave Asher, just because she was flirting with him.

With his eye twitching in jealousy and a scowl on his face, Asher made his way towards them, squeezing his ass subtly and draping his arm around his shoulder.

"Hey, how's it going?" He said, staring at the girl with calmness and careless charm in his eyes, but there was also a frustrated glint in them, a possessiveness in his arm around his shoulder that only he himself was capable of noticing. His grip seemed teasing, nudging his hip with his own, squeezing his shoulder. Anyone would think Asher was holding him just to bother him. But it was more than that. Much more.