Status: WIP
There She Goes
4
Once showered and dressed I padded back into the living room. I bypassed them and headed into the kitchen. I reached for my T.A.R.D.I.S. mug. I in turn filled the kettle with water.
I went to the sink and pulled out two plain Jane mugs. I put the kettle on the stove. I pulled out three small plates. I grabbed a tray.
I loaded it up with plates, muffins, butter, and jam. I paused a moment to think. I grabbed a knife and spoon. I played with my iPhone.
I checked my Facebook fan page, Anissa created for me. I had thirty-six notifications. I clicked on the notification icon then clicked it again. I scrolled through looking at what all the fans had to say.
Some time had passed when the kettle finally whistled. I yanked the kettle off and turned off the heat. I grabbed a teapot and poured the hot water. Selecting a tea infuser, I added three scoops of breakfast blend to it.
I dropped it in the teapot. After I finished loading the tray, I carefully walked back into the living room. I set everything on the coffee table. I was about to sit down when I realized I forgot the honey.
I returned and sat down. I poured myself. They could pour their own. I added two spoonfuls of honey and stirred. I sat cross legged in my chair.
"Help yourselves," I say sipping my tea. I watched them over the rim of my mug. "Any milk?" Luke asked.
Oh yeah. I forgot some like milk in their teas. "No, sorry I don't. I can't have a lot of dairy products," I say. He looked at me like I had grown a second head. I shrugged my shoulders.
Tom poured him a cup then helped himself to a muffin. He watched me through eyelashes. I held his gaze unbeknownst to him.
"So tell me why you're here at a terrible hour in the morning?" I asked. "Tell me why you are America's Sweetheart," Tom countered. I raised an eyebrow.
"Touché. I take it you don't know who my father is," I say. He just stares. "Elijah Roberts. WWE Champion. Actor extraordinaire.
My mother, Heather Langley, Texas' head Realtor. Hence the name Austin. Austin Eden Rose. First and middle name after cities in Texas.
When my parents were married, I was America's Sweetheart. Everything I did was watched by America. I had my chance to play but I also "worked" in supporting my father in his business.
I went to public school like a normal teen. Except the paparazzi. When I followed in my father's footsteps in theatre, America was on the edge of their seats. All through high school I was in theatre.
I'm a graduate of University of Texas at Austin. Bachelor's of Arts in Theatre. After graduating I spent a year in the U.K. The last six months I've lived here.
Yesterday I had auditions at RADA. I was hoping to get my master's there. Sadly I was rejected. I treated myself to a fifty dollar shopping spree and a night out on the town.
Where you unfortunately recognized me. I was doing quite well until then. And here we are in my flat drinking tea, eating muffins. And I'm telling you my migratory in a nut shell."
I quickly to a drink to keep from lashing out more than I already was. I could feel the heat rising. Tom was astonished at my outburst. Luke looked slightly grim.
"I'm sorry that you didn't get into RADA. But it's their loss not yours," Tom said. "And I didn't mean to rain on your parade," said Luke.
I took a muffin and ate it dry. I was still beyond pissed. Tom could tell. His eyes held my gaze.
I was sure they were ablaze with anger. Luke dared to speak. "The reason why we're here...I'm here..." He started off.
"I've *coughs* been following your work with acting. You are phenomenal. You've got what it takes to have the world of acting eating out of the palm of your hand.
The question is do you have an agent or a publicist? Because if not I volunteer to step in," he says. I broke eye contact with Tom.
"And why would want to do that? So you "followed" my work. Doesn't mean I want help right now," I say narrowing my eyes.
So I'm prideful right now. I need the work so I need a publicist. But it just seems too easy. There has got to be a catch.
I went to the sink and pulled out two plain Jane mugs. I put the kettle on the stove. I pulled out three small plates. I grabbed a tray.
I loaded it up with plates, muffins, butter, and jam. I paused a moment to think. I grabbed a knife and spoon. I played with my iPhone.
I checked my Facebook fan page, Anissa created for me. I had thirty-six notifications. I clicked on the notification icon then clicked it again. I scrolled through looking at what all the fans had to say.
Some time had passed when the kettle finally whistled. I yanked the kettle off and turned off the heat. I grabbed a teapot and poured the hot water. Selecting a tea infuser, I added three scoops of breakfast blend to it.
I dropped it in the teapot. After I finished loading the tray, I carefully walked back into the living room. I set everything on the coffee table. I was about to sit down when I realized I forgot the honey.
I returned and sat down. I poured myself. They could pour their own. I added two spoonfuls of honey and stirred. I sat cross legged in my chair.
"Help yourselves," I say sipping my tea. I watched them over the rim of my mug. "Any milk?" Luke asked.
Oh yeah. I forgot some like milk in their teas. "No, sorry I don't. I can't have a lot of dairy products," I say. He looked at me like I had grown a second head. I shrugged my shoulders.
Tom poured him a cup then helped himself to a muffin. He watched me through eyelashes. I held his gaze unbeknownst to him.
"So tell me why you're here at a terrible hour in the morning?" I asked. "Tell me why you are America's Sweetheart," Tom countered. I raised an eyebrow.
"Touché. I take it you don't know who my father is," I say. He just stares. "Elijah Roberts. WWE Champion. Actor extraordinaire.
My mother, Heather Langley, Texas' head Realtor. Hence the name Austin. Austin Eden Rose. First and middle name after cities in Texas.
When my parents were married, I was America's Sweetheart. Everything I did was watched by America. I had my chance to play but I also "worked" in supporting my father in his business.
I went to public school like a normal teen. Except the paparazzi. When I followed in my father's footsteps in theatre, America was on the edge of their seats. All through high school I was in theatre.
I'm a graduate of University of Texas at Austin. Bachelor's of Arts in Theatre. After graduating I spent a year in the U.K. The last six months I've lived here.
Yesterday I had auditions at RADA. I was hoping to get my master's there. Sadly I was rejected. I treated myself to a fifty dollar shopping spree and a night out on the town.
Where you unfortunately recognized me. I was doing quite well until then. And here we are in my flat drinking tea, eating muffins. And I'm telling you my migratory in a nut shell."
I quickly to a drink to keep from lashing out more than I already was. I could feel the heat rising. Tom was astonished at my outburst. Luke looked slightly grim.
"I'm sorry that you didn't get into RADA. But it's their loss not yours," Tom said. "And I didn't mean to rain on your parade," said Luke.
I took a muffin and ate it dry. I was still beyond pissed. Tom could tell. His eyes held my gaze.
I was sure they were ablaze with anger. Luke dared to speak. "The reason why we're here...I'm here..." He started off.
"I've *coughs* been following your work with acting. You are phenomenal. You've got what it takes to have the world of acting eating out of the palm of your hand.
The question is do you have an agent or a publicist? Because if not I volunteer to step in," he says. I broke eye contact with Tom.
"And why would want to do that? So you "followed" my work. Doesn't mean I want help right now," I say narrowing my eyes.
So I'm prideful right now. I need the work so I need a publicist. But it just seems too easy. There has got to be a catch.