Chapter Text
The night of the karaoke livestream loomed as you went to work on Friday. The excitement in the office was infectious, and, even though you were entirely apprehensive about the whole thing, you couldn’t help but get excited too.
The art department had spared no expense on the decorations as they set up the Smosh Pit in preparation. Great big streamers and garlands, cool posters and lights, a stage setup with microphones and instruments, balloons hanging from the ceiling and all about the sofas on the set. There were comfy blankets and pillows, and tons of props and costumes behind them for people to assume the roles of different famous singers. You could see the crates of drinks and snacks for the night stacked in the entrance of the office, ready to be distributed after hours.
At this point, you had still managed to artfully avoid signing up to sing any songs, and the slots were going fast enough that you assumed by the end of the day, there would be no room for you anyway. You were looking over the current sign-ups, curious as to the choices the office was making, when you recognised a title.
“Excited for my performance tonight, Y/N?” Angela spoke casually, surprising you by leaning onto the table where the signup sheet rested.
You smiled and looked straight at her, attempting to look anything other than how you truly felt - terrified. Ever since the Bit City sketch, you’d been dreaming about her more often and more intensely. It was getting painful to go to work and see her all beautiful and entrancing, and not be able to tell her how you really felt and do something about it. You could admit to yourself that something had changed after the Bit City sketch. Angela was approaching you as much as she had been since your song was released, but instead of the intensely teasing comments she’d stuck with before, her questions seemed almost tender now.
You’d both been so wrapped up in the sketch that you hadn’t realised, maybe it was a good ice-breaker to build back your friendship. At least, that’s what you assumed from Angela’s behaviour - that she, tentatively, wanted to re-explore your friendship together. That’s why she had been trying for more contact, asking you more questions and seeking out conversation. Your own dream-crazed brain had just twisted her reaching out into paranoid delusions of her being out to get you. Her final devastating blow to your whirlwind friendship! It sounded so stupid now, so you indulged her.
“Very excited, Angela, I can’t wait to see what you do with the song!” You replied, jovially, trying your best to communicate support like people do in friendships.
She smiled at you, then scanned over the sign-up sheet, “So what’re you going to perform for us tonight. You’re not signed up yet, are you?”
“No, I’m not really sure I should.” You tried to think of an excuse, any excuse to get her off your back. “I’ve got a bit of a sore throat. I don’t want to push it or anything.”
Angela narrowed her eyes at you, “You sound fine to me.”
“Yeah, well… Honey in your tea does wonders for the vocal chords, even when you're not ill. You taught me that!”
She looked at you, not reacting for a brief second, then laughed to herself, “I only know that one from Damien, you should thank him. You sound healthy as a horse, it must’ve done wonders!”
You laughed with her, then excused yourself, saying you were actually on your way to help Spencer set up his Smosh Games shoot that afternoon. Not really wanting to abandon a civil conversation with Angela, but also not sure how much longer you could feign an imaginary illness when all you seemed to want to do when you looked at her was to tell her the truth.
I’m Embers!!! You’re singing my song tonight!!! You know, the one I wrote about you?!? Because I fantasised about you in my sleep?!? That one?!? Because I’m seriously attracted to you, and I probably have been for a while without even noticing?!? FUCK!!!
You were definitely right to get out of there as soon as you could, your brain screaming the million and one truths you wanted to share with her as you walked down the corridor, away from Angela. With your speedy exit, you didn’t notice Angela lingering a little longer at the sign-up sheet, looking all around her to avoid prying eyes, then adding your name to the list.
The energy in the office was building throughout the day in anticipation of the evening’s livestream. The whole Smosh Games cast was discussing the songs they were going to sing and the outfits they had planned for the event, before their shoot that afternoon. When you had gone to ‘help Spencer set up’, you were planning to just mull about the set and chat with him for a bit, to avoid Angela’s suspicion. As fate would have it, Spencer was actually looking for you anyway, wondering if you would help run things behind the camera so that he could join in the shoot. It was going to be Tommy, Arasha, Angela, Trevor, Shayne, and Courtney, alongside Spencer
You agreed to help him out. It was only a Gentlemen’s themed Werewolf shoot, and you’d played enough and observed enough of those to know what you were doing. Remembering how the crew had played a prank on you all a few games ago, having you all play villagers without anyone werewolves in the mix, you decided to have a little fun of your own. You roped the crew in and took all the werewolf cards out of the pack. The crew, and you, were going to play the werewolves, seeing everything that happened throughout the night, then being able to kill off strategically or comedically. The cast, then, were going to be any of the other roles, pitted against each other with no idea of the true werewolf identity. And just for fun, you had instructed the cast to play the first round in silence.
It was hard to keep a straight face the first ‘night’, when the ominous narrator voice instructed the werewolves to wake up and reveal themselves to one another. As Brennan panned the camera around to the crew, you all assumed a silent position of claws and prop fangs, showing, quickly slipping them off before the next character was woken, and Brennan panned back as if nothing happened. Then it was the turn of the masons, who were Shayne and Arasha. They looked at each other, smiled and puffed their cigars conspiratorially, then closed their eyes. Next was the seer, who was Courtney. They tipped their hat lightly to the camera before looking immediately at Angela’s card. Which was a fair strategy considering how Angela had gotten away with being the werewolf several times on the last Gentlemen’s shoot. As Courtney closed their eyes, it was Trevor’s turn as the robber. He stroked his chin pensively, then switched his and Angela’s cards, looking at his new card with surprise before closing his eyes. The troublemaker was awoken next, and Tommy switched over Arasha and Shayne’s cards, much to the amusement of everyone behind the camera. Then, finally, it was Angela’s turn as the insomniac. She looked at her card, now the Robber after Trevor had switched theirs, then looked over to you behind the camera, lightly questioning the crew’s laughter. She closed her eyes as the VoiceOver instructed, then everyone reached out and shuffled their cards. Spencer had, unfortunately, pulled the only villager card, so he was completely out of the loop.
As the first round of silent questioning kicked off, the crew and you just sat back with satisfied amusement. Everybody laid their identities down in mime form, comedically raising their hats and gesturing with cigars, then they proceeded with the accusations. By the end of their 5 minutes, there was no clear accusation as they proceeded into their second night, taking another look at their card to assume any new positions. You instructed them that they could talk in round 2, and everybody cheered at the announcement. The VoiceOver played again.
This round, as the werewolves, you and the crew decided to strategically eliminate Shayne, so that Arasha was left without any trust in the other team members. Everyone performs their roles through the night, switching cards and searching the cards, then they are instructed to wake up again. You announce to the group that Shayne was murdered in the night and can no longer participate in this round. Immediately, with the additional allowance of speech back in play, Arasha starts accusing people, identifying herself and Shayne as the masons. In response to her accusation, the rest of the group began to clarify their roles, voicing their suspicion at the other mason's conveniently’ dying so that Shayne couldn’t deny Arasha’s claim. You and the rest of the crew looked on with devious amusement as random, unsupportable accusations were lobbed and alliances formed. After five minutes, you let the group decide on someone to accuse as the werewolf, and they chose Arasha, never regaining full trust in her after her claiming Shayne’s alliance.
Arasha flipped her card to show the Mason, and everyone gasped in shock, clearly thinking they’d figured out the werewolf. You set the rule once again to silence, as the team groaned in frustration. Then, you announced the beginning of the third night, let the players check their cards, and then the VoiceOver began.
This round, you and the crew decided to kill off Spencer. Being the villager, it was an easy and non-threatening player to remove from the dynamic, but it was also quite satisfying to beat Spencer at his own game. Cards were switched, and Angela, who had ended the first night as the robber and the second night as the Seer, now took her turn to look even more suspiciously at you, then check 2 cards in the middle. Both cards, of course, showed villagers, as those were the only cards left in the deck, besides Spencer’s Villager. Even more confused now, Angela held up her hand to question you that there was only 1 werewolf in play. You gave her an “I can’t answer that question, and you know it” look, and she narrowed her eyes, silently huffing as she was instructed to close them. The remaining five players reached out to shuffle their cards, then woke up, immediately lobbying cigarette-clutched hands in accusation at their fellow players. Angela kept remarkably still as everyone kicked into silent action, still looking, confusingly, at you.
You tried to keep a neutral face as you announced that Spencer had been killed in the night. He huffed and threw himself back into the sofa, letting his top hat rest over his eyes in defeat, everyone laughing around him. Then the remaining four players launched into accusations. Angela’s eyes, formally trained on you, were now performing an excited myriad of expressions trying to convey her discovery of the two villagers in the centre, and her suspicion that you had messed up the game somehow. It was sort of hilarious watching her be so sure of you meddling and trying to convince the others of the fact. She gestured wildly from the cards, to you, to Spencer, shaking her hands around as if to ask, “Do you notice a pattern??”, trying to establish the chaotic similarities to last time when you had all been villagers. But it was no use, the other three players weren’t paying attention to her, too busy blaming each other. By the end of the round, Courtney and Tommy, by some completely unsubstantiated suspicions, had both accused Trevor of being the werewolf, and Trevor had accused Tommy. Angela, however, hadn’t accused any of the other three players, but pointed a threatening Nerf bullet ‘cigar’ directly at where you were sitting behind the camera. You laughed off her accusation as you instructed Trevor, who had the most votes, to flip over his card.
Trevor had ended up with the Robber card again, and everyone groaned at their inability to find the werewolf once more. You announced the final round would be spoken again, then let everyone look at their cards again before announcing the start of the final night. The VoiceOver played once more, and Angela woke as the Seer again, her card not changing since the previous night. Angela looked directly at you as she reached to turn over the remaining card in the middle. She glanced at it briefly, confidently knowing that all she would see was another villager card, as she suspected. Then she turned it back over and mouthed, You motherfucker, to where you were standing behind the camera. You just smirked at her in return, letting the VoiceOver instruct her to close her eyes once again. As the instructions finished and everybody reached out to shuffle their cards around, Angela immediately got up off the sofa, making her way towards you.
She stopped, just shy of the camera, thankfully still in frame, then levelled her Nerf bullet at your face once more. “Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me you’re not fucking me, Y/N.” She stared dead into your eyes, all seriousness, not realising the blatant innuendo of the comment.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Angela. I’ve never fucked you, however much I’ve wanted to…” You trailed off, letting the redness plastered across your own face mirror on Angela’s as Courtney and Tommy began demanding answers from you both as to what the hell was going on!
“Y/N is the werewolf! She’s messing with us all. Don’t you see?” She shouted, switching between looking at you and trying to persuade them.
Courtney rallied their response, “How do we know you’re not just accusing her cause you have that weird rivalry going on at the moment?”
“Courtney, what card do you have?” Angela asked, eyes not leaving yours.
Courtney replied from behind her, “Insomniac.”
Angela continued looking directly at you, acknowledging the answer behind her with another question. “And Tommy, what about you?”
“I’m the Troublemaker.” He supplied a little over whatever was happening here.
Angela smirked ruefully, “Okay, well, I’m the Seer, and I’ve seen all three cards in the centre, they’re all werewolves. So either one of you is incredibly good at lying, or Y/N, here, has been having a little fun of her own.” She emphasised her point by turning back around to address the group, pointing her Nerf bullet straight into your chest.
“Holy shit!” Courtney shouted, around the same time as Tommy sighed, “Not again, are you serious!?”
You finally voiced a direction. “Is that your final accusation, guys?”
They all nodded incredibly seriously at each other.
You smirked back at Angela’s unusually warm face, then faced the group, announcing, “Well done! You’ve caught the werewolf! The crew and I were actually in on it together, but I’ll let you guys have it since I really didn’t know how long we’d be able to fool you all!”
“I can’t believe you Spencer’d Spencer!” Courtney exclaimed.
Spencer groaned, then pointed at you as well. “Yeah, I’m really mad at you right now. I’ve tasted my own medicine and I hate it.”
You laughed along with the rest of the cast at Spencer’s dejected disappointment, then let the cast play a couple of uninterrupted games to make up for your infiltrating that one. By the end of the shoot, everyone was back on top form, elated by your successful revenge plot on Spencer and excited for the upcoming karaoke.
As everyone was packing up and leaving to get ready, Angela brushed past you, taking the brief quiet as an opportunity to whisper knowingly in your ear, “You just love secret identities, don’t you, Y/N?”
You didn’t know how the hell to reply, so you just turned and stared after her, dumfounded, as she walked away to get ready with the rest of the crew. She knew. She had to know. Why the hell else would she say something like that? Oh god, and she was going to sing that song and announce it to everyone else at Smosh tonight. She was going to expose all your deepest fantasies about her to the thousands of viewers tuning in. You were well and truly fucked.
As you waited anxiously on the sofa, sat between Amanda and Ian, with Angela smirking at you from the sofa across the way, you felt sick with nerves and anticipation. If she knew that you wrote the song, and even worse, that the song was about her, surely she wouldn’t be so cruel as to expose you in front of all these people. Angela could be bold but certainly never heartless. No, you had to rationalise that whatever her comment after the Gentlemen’s shoot meant, it had nothing to do with you being Embers.
You tried to clap along and engage with everyone as they performed their long-awaited song choices. Tommy had attempted a beautiful rendition of Chappell Roan’s “The Subway”, and Chanse had followed very quickly with “HOT TO GO!”, getting the whole cast and crew involved. Some people sang with Josh and the incredible band, others chose backup tracks and duets. Finally, you knew Angela’s turn was coming up, having been written right under Amanda’s performance of Lady Gaga’s ‘Judas’, who was performing now. You instinctively flinched into yourself as the song was announced by Shayne, who was hosting the event, wondering if you could make a quick escape before Angela had the chance to get up there.
“Next, we have ‘I Can See You’, by Embers. Performed as a duet between Angela Giarratana and Y/N L/N! Come on up here, guys!” Shayne called, waving his mic at you and Angela.
Fuck. Oh no. That was what all the deviousness was about, she’d signed you up to sing your own song to everyone so that you could expose yourself, and she’d be right there with you on stage watching it all unfold. It was truly evil. You turned to stare at her from across the room, as she made her way onto the stage, she smiled widely and held out her hand in genuine encouragement for you to come join her.
Grabbing the microphone from Shayne, she announced to the room, “Listen, Y/N, I know you’ve got a sore throat, but we all adore you so much we want to give you the chance to sing anyway. Screw your vocal chords for the weekend! I can carry the hard parts for you, anyway!” She winked, enticing you onto the stage.
She didn’t know you were Embers? God figuring all this out was like whiplash. Did she know or not? She was being way too genuine right now for any of this to be a ploy. As the rest of the cast and crew screamed and hollered you on in encouragement, you thought to yourself - Fuck it. If this was the place you finally revealed your secret identity, then let it be so. You were so emotionally tired of trying to figure out if Angela knew your secret all day that you were over it by now. If she and everyone else figured it out, it would be easier to deal with the consequences than whatever today’s unknown had been. You resolved to join her on stage, walking up to the very edge and grabbing onto Angela’s outstretched hand as she hoisted you up to her. You stumbled a little, and she grabbed your waist to balance you.
“You sure?” She asked, a little nervously, you noticed, still gripping your waist.
“Yeah, why not.” You nodded, resolutely. Taking the other microphone from Shayne, you smiled at Angela as you set it up on the stand.
Josh and the band began to play the opening guitar chords, and Angela started the first verse, singing half into the microphone, half into your eyes. You let yourself get lost in her beautiful voice, equally strong and delicate in a fine balance. You’d always adored her voice when you’d gone to see her in her StarKid performances, but hearing it live was a whole other temptation.
“You brush me past me in the hallway and you don’t think I can see it, do you?” You flushed as she sang the lyrics to you, suggestively, seemingly unaware that you’d written them for her, about her, about all that you wanted to do to her. God, if she only knew how deep your attraction to her ran. How much was it killing you to hear her sing this song, knowing you didn’t have her, that you couldn’t have her.
But, of course, she didn’t know. She only played further into the sexiness of the song, letting her eyes catch yours, daring, and moving her microphone closer to yours, singing “What would you do if I went to touch you now?”.
Then you joined in with the chorus, singing those oh so familiar lyrics, staring down the one person you’d written them about. The audience, both physical and digital, slipped from your mind as you slipped into the intoxicating feel of revealing your deepest secrets to her. Watching as Angela’s face contorted through shock, fascination and mild confusion, listening to your voice, clearly not able to form a true thought about what she was hearing, whilst she was concentrating on singing with you.
When you began singing the second verse, on your own, Angela’s face suddenly became one of pure understanding. You knew she’d figured it out. You could see that glimmer of recognition on her face as she put two and two together, nodding along with your singing in absolute enchantment. You couldn’t fully tell what was running through Angela’s mind after that, as you finished out your verse and she joined you in the chorus again, there seemed to be another round of confusion dancing through her eyes. You had no idea what that meant.
As you both continued the song, the cast and crew gathered around the bottom of the stage in recognition and adoration, and you let yourself play into the song with Angela. Moving into her, lingering your eyes as you scanned all over her, she did the same to you. You took the microphones off the stand and circled each other, then you crowded over her singing the bridge of your song, looking intentionally into her eyes, hoping to see some recognition, some understanding that she knew this song was about her. She had to know now, surely!
“I can see you in your suit and your necktie,
Passed me a note saying, "Meet me tonight”.
Then we kissed and you know I won't ever tell, yeah,
And I could see you being my addiction.
You can see me as a secret mission.
Hide away and I will start behaving myself…”
You let the final line linger, Josh’s guitar playing trailing off and leaving a dramatic pause as you stared deep into Angela’s eyes. There was no doubt about it now; she knew you were Embers. They all did. But Angela also knew you’d written the song about her. You could see it in the vulnerability of her eyes, the fear, and something more than that… the intrigue, the anticipation written all through the flickering of her eyes between yours.
The final chorus picked up, and you sang to each other once more, really letting yourselves dive into the chemistry of it all. At the end of the song, everyone was in an uproar, cheering along and shouting in glee at their discovery. Outcries of, “Your Embers?!”, “I can’t believe you never told us!”, “How did we not realise this earlier?”, and “So you’re, like, double famous?!” followed you as you stepped off the stage and back into the crowded cast and crew.
You tried your best to entertain everyone’s surprised support of your now-revealed hidden identity, but your mind was occupied with Angela’s retreating figure as she slipped out the double doors of the studio and into the dark corridor. You brushed a few people, claiming to need the toilet desperately and headed after her, hoping nobody else would catch on to you two disappearing.
“Angela?” You half-whispered into the dark of the corridor. She melted around the corner of a doorway further down the hall, leaning her head against it, looking directly at you.
“Your Embers?” She asked quietly.
“Yes.”
“And… that song. You wrote that about me, right?” She asked, even quieter.
You were silent for the longest time. Terrified. If you admitted the song was about her she could be incredibly offended by your blatant fantasising about her and distance herself even further. You didn’t want to risk losing her entirely. But the look in her eyes on stage, and every little action you’d tossed and turned over recently, flickered to mind like some candle of hope.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, that was so narcissistic to assume.” She started, rambling nervously and standing upright off the wall in fear. “Of course, it's not about me—”
“No, it’s definitely about you, Angela.” You interrupt, “God, it couldn’t be about anybody but you.”
You walked timidly towards her, taking small but purposeful strides like approaching a wild animal. Angela looked up at you in wonder, taking in your steady approach. She stared deep into your eyes. You caught her hands in yours as she leaned back against the wall, palms pressing against palms as she brought your hands upward and out.
“Y/N, you know how long I’ve wanted this? You? I gave up on our friendship because I thought you didn’t want that. That I couldn’t handle only being your friend, so I pulled away entirely…”
“That was why we stopped being friends?” “I was so hurt when you did that. I didn’t fully understand why that was until recently. Until I realised, I had feelings for you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It just hurt too much to have you, but not really have you. It was selfish to pull away, it just felt right at the time. I know it wasn’t right, now.”
“You’re an idiot.” You laughed, letting your face fall close to hers, noses brushing, clasped hands back by your sides.
Angela laughed softly with you, then asked, “So what made you figure it out?”
“I had a dream about you.” You whispered, leaning further into her ear and letting your lips brush the lobe, “A very, very inappropriate dream that one doesn’t usually have about coworkers or ex-best friends…”
Angela inhaled sharply, instinctively letting her lower body press into yours at the proximity. You pulled back to face her, eyes smouldering at her reaction.
“Is that what the song is about?” She asked cheekily, already knowing the answer. “All your fantasies about me?” She added daringly, leaning up to brush her lips gently against, “Want to act a few out?” Her eyes met yours, heated and intense, waiting for your reaction.
You pushed forward, claiming her lips with your own. Your hands, having let go of hers, now pushed her further into the wall and climbed up her waist and back. It was like you’d always imagined, her and you in the hallway, exploring each other with the desperation of years of separation. You’d deal with everyone else - all the cast and crew, and all the adoring fans, figuring out your identity - later. For now, all that mattered was Angela. Angela on your lips. Angela pushing you into the wall. All those years of pent-up frustration finally being released. The rest was tomorrow’s problem.