Your name is Dean Winchester. And you are currently freaking out. On a whim, you applied for American Idol. You were shocked as you passed the the quarterfinals, as well as the semi-finals, and now you have won. Wow.
To no one’s surprise (but your own), you were offered a record deal, and you took it. It would pay well, plus you would get to do what you love.
So you recorded. 12 songs, and it only took 1 month or so. Today you are meeting an artist named Something Novak to talk about the design for your cover art.
You get to the studio at 5:55, 5 minutes before your meeting starts. You go to some conference room, and wait patiently, tapping your foot. You hear shuffling of feet outside the door, then it flies open and in enters your manager Bobby.
“Dean? Oh, hey. Anyways, listen, the artist is here. Are you ready?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Bobby.” you say.
A man with black hair walks in, and you die. Like freaking literally. And you know why? This guy is hot.
He has wide, blue eyes, a calm manner, a sketchbook, and a bag. He is wearing plain black pants, a white dress shirt, and a blue sweater that makes his eyes pop.You think he is downright adorable.
“Hello, my name is Castiel Novak. I am looking forward to working with you.” He calmly states.
Oh god that voice. So. Freakin. Cute. And Deep. Oh god you may just faint here. You are so flustered.
“H-hi.” Oh the embarrassment you stuttered oh man. It’s all over now. “Um, same here, Castiel.”
He smiled. You died. Again. But somehow you keep coming back to life, but you have no idea who keeps bringing you back to life.
“So, what would you say this album ‘means’ to you? Just to ask.” He asked quietly.
“ Um, I don’t really know. It just symbolizes my big break. That’s why the name of the album is ‘Debut’.”
He sketches for a while. A really long while. By the time his pencil hits the desk, it’s 6:55. You have to head home by 7:00, or Sam will kill you.
“Look, man, I gotta head home by 7:00 or else my kid brother will have my head. You mind if we finish this tomorrow?”
“No problem, Dean. I know how siblings can be. I’ll have a rough draft ready for your consumption tomorrow. Should we meet at the same time?”
“Yes, sir.” You reply.
On the way out, you thank Castiel, tell Bobby about the appointment tomorrow, then get the heck out of dodge.
Needless to say, you are looking at the next day with hopeful eyes. Usually when you want someone, you get them. But thinking about this blue-eyed man, you feel like you have to be more.....delicate. You have to think of a suave, heartfelt way to ask this dude to go out with you, and quick.
With your last moments of consciousness, you picture blue eyes sparkling with happiness, and you fall soundly asleep thinking about the angel that is Castiel.
When you arrive at the studio the next day, your hands are clammy and shaking. Castiel Novak has cracked your cool-guy, womanizer attitude straight in half. You have no idea how to go about telling him and inviting him over for dinner. Which is embarrassing.
Bobby walks in and announces the arrival of the Great and Beautiful Castiel. You stutter out a greeting because he is just that cute.
“Dean, I have finished that rough draft. Take a look. I hope it pleases you.” he practically whispers.
You take it from him and intently oH MY GOSH THIS IS SO DANG AMAZING GOODNESS GRACIOUS.
It features a silhouette of you at the top of a set of stairs, facing away from the front of the cover, glancing out at the “audience”. There are “camera flashes” coming from the audience. At the top in bold print there is text that reads, “DEAN WINCHESTER”, and at the bottom there is text that states, “DEBUT”.
“Oh my gosh, Cas, this is amazing!” You gush(which you never ever do, but you can feel your facade caving underneath Castiel’s puppy dog stare).
“Cas?” he inquires.
“Oh, s-sorry Castiel. If you want me to not call you that then I can just-”
“No, no, I like it!” He cuts you off.
“Oh, o-okay.” Oh crap! why does Cas throw you off of your game like this?
You hastily flip the draft over to give your hands something to do, when you see loopy handwriting. What?
“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”
Will you be my reality, Dean? Coffee is an ideal date.
You realize your mouth is slightly open and you can feel your cheeks slowly heating up. Oh my gosh.
“U-uh y-yes i would love to get c-coffee or d-dinner sometime.” Calm down, Dean! Stop stuttering!
You guys sit in silence for a while, just staring at the table, at the ground, at each other, everywhere. Y’all are both seriously flustered
“S-so,” Oh god stop,”This is a perfect cover a-and it will totally be used. Heh heh.” You suck. A ton.
“I’m glad.” He says, voice steady. “I spent a lot of time making that perfect.”
“Thanks!” You babble.
You two plan a date for the next week. You end up leaving well after 7:00. Sam was a tad angry, but after you explained the situation, he forgave you.
“Cas, come on!” you yell. “we’re not gonna get this handled in time unless you get a move on!”
“I’m almost done, Dean!” he yells back.
Tonight, you two are going to a party. You thought if you rearranged the living room in the house you share right now, you would get it done by the time you both have to leave for the party. You need help moving a CD rack that is, surprisingly, really heavy.It’s a two man job.
“Whatever, Cas! I’ll just move this dang thing myself!” you scream, exasperated.
You lift it by the handle, and gosh darn this is heavy. You finally get a steady grip on it when you trip over the corner of the couch. CDs fly everywhere, and you give a little sigh. You should have seen that one coming.
As you begin to pick up the 10 or so CDs on the ground, one in particular catches your eye. It’s the album “Debut” by, well, you. You sigh a happy sigh and transfer your gaze to a picture frame on the wall. In it is one of your most prized possessions.
It contains the rough draft of that same album. The one Cas gave you all those months ago. You look back on that memory very fondly.
You hear footsteps, then feel arms around your waist, and a familiar gravelly voice states, “Okay, Dean. Let’s move this stupid rack.”
“Sure, Cas.” you say, pulling the man you love into a hug. You place your lips softly on his forehead.” I love you, Cas.”
“I love you too, Dean.” He says softly.