Darren's dripping sweat underneath the perfectly fitted designer suit his stylist put him in. He likes the suit. She's good, she gets his style so he's usually the carte blanche kind of guy. He lets her do her job, he does his - show up and put it on. He'd had some say this time, though - at least in the details. He wasn't dressing for himself, he wasn't dressing for a camera.
He was dressing for Chris.
And there he is - Chris, looking long and lean in his own suit, ties subtly matching.
(Underwear, too, but no one else needs to know that.)
