The Golden Globes had come and gone, and then a few other awards. And then, most importantly, the Oscars. Gael Shaw had even been nominated for his first role in a major film, for Best Supporting Actor and a lot of people thought his 'oh so cute' face couldn't lose. But, he did. To more seasoned film actors, which was hardly a surprise. Gael's nomination had been the only one for his film, and even Gael had remarked in an interview that he had little expectations to win. He hadn't won at the Golden Globes either, for that matter.

All the same, he was here at the after party. And so was Greg. Mostly because he'd fooled around with the host of the party and she owed him for keeping a few of her skeletons in the closet.

"Hey, Shaw. Still flying solo?" Greg asked as Gael came up to the bar with a rather reluctant look on his face.

"Greg," Gael said, before he ordered a Gin and Tonic from the bartender. "Greg, are you sure you're supposed to be drinking? I thought the judge told you 'no' the last time you were busted on Public Intoxication and had to attend court ordered rehab."

"Now that's just cold." Greg said with a hurt look and a frown. "When did you get to be so mean?" Not that it really hurt, or that he even batted an eye and such jabs. It was, however, a little out of the norm for Shaw.

"Since I can't seem to get rid of you as a friend, and....you slept with my girlfriend before sending everyone a picture of you doing so." Gael said, flatly before he took his drink and turned away. Huh, Greg thought, there was more to this discussion than Little Shaw was saying, but the only way he was going to figure that out was to, well, follow him.

"Hey, Shaw..."

Greg smiled at the latest starlet to grace the movie screens as they finished their interview. It was a smile meant to hide the wince, because that one was not going to last long. He could tell that one already, and not just because it was his job to make them feel small. Because, he supposed, it wasn't really his job. It just was a thing he did.

Either way, it was a thing.

"Oh, hey Abby." Greg said as he turned and saw Gael Shaw walking past him, looking fairly good- all things considered. There was, of course no sign of Carlos. "Hey, come on. Don't be like that. We've got to kiss and make nice, or they are all just going to think we're having the best hate sex ever." He said with a grin; one that grew as Gael rolled his eyes and moved closer.

"Greg." He said, forcing a smile as he glanced at a photographer a few feet away. "We don't have to do this. Every award season, you come out here, make an ass of yourself, and wonder why you can't get laid in Hollywood. Maybe if you didn't insult everyone's ass, you'd get a decent fuck out of things."

Greg laughed at that, reaching out to pat the shorter man's cheek affectionately. "Oh yeah, that's absolutely why you didn't sleep with me- Oh, wait....but you did." It was a cheeky grin. "Woah, woah...I would watch the ugly looks, man. This place loves a good hatemance more than a romance. So, unless you want to have a heart to heart tonight with Carlos- I say we just do this interview. I'll insult your hair, you'll call be a fuckcake, and we'll met up tonight for drinks. Maybe a little," he made a popping and clicking noise with his mouth before he grinned. Gael only rolled his eyes, before motioning it on. He was easy, Greg thought. Always had been.

After Gael's interview, everything else went fairly quickly. And once the carpets where clear, Greg could turn his attentions to the lone lady he saw making her way to the doors. "Well, Hello Chicka." He said as he came up beside Merry. "You're looking ravishing tonight. Enough so that I'd be willing to cancel my plans just to worship you and that dress."