Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat ā€” the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

0
followers
follow

Keith Zetler

"Remind me again why I give a damn."

0 · 502 views · located in Malibu, California

a character in “Scandalous Young Things”, as played by Colors of Iris

Description





ImageImageImageImage






Image
Image
Image
Image

FULL NAME

Keith Zetler | "Keith, just Keith. What's with that look? It's just a name."

NICKNAMES

None in particular. | "Call me whatever. As long as I'm aware it's me you're referring to. Because, honestly? I couldn't care less."

AGE

27 | "Yes, I am."

HOMETOWN

Tucson, Arizona | "Pronounced TOO-sawn, ladies and gentlemen, TOO-sawn. Not TUX-on."

SEXUALITY

Straight. Borderline asexual, butā€¦straight. | "It's hardly any of your business, anyway."

ROLE

Rumor-maker | "To my eternal humiliation. What has the world come to, when 'gossipmonger' is a legitimate occupation?"

COVER JOB

Music composer | "You know there's something wrong when you're in it for the cover job, and not the actual one."

PERSONALITY

"Yes, and hello. Could you please get out of my breathing space, now?"

Keith is one of the most sullen, cynical introverts you will ever meet. You know those quiet, withdrawn people who seem cold but are actually just shy and socially awkward? Yeah, well, Keith's not one of them. If he seems reserved to you, it's not because he's bashful or anything stupid like that, it's because you genuinely piss him off. He is, in short, a raging misanthropist. He just doesn't overtly express it, so instead of "I hate the world" vibes, people tend to get "go away" vibes from him instead.

If you have the misfortune of having to get to know him, you'll find that he's a difficult character to get along with. Acerbic and sharp-tongued, Keith Zetler is by no means a team player. It isn't that he goes around picking fights with people (usually it's the other way around), but his apathetic (and somewhat judgmental) attitude towards anything that doesn't interest him is annoying to say the least. What's more, it's not even subtle. You try to strike up a friendly conversation with this guy, and you can just tell he doesn't want to talk to you.

(Counterintuitively, he smiles a lot. Not the sincere kind, mind youā€”they're more of the sarcastic sort of "shut-up-now-or-I'll-make-you" smiles.)

Keith has a terrible memory, regarding people's names. Introduce yourself to him, and he'll shrug and forget your name within thirty seconds. Sometimes less. Music, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. Give him a tune and he'll rattle off the composer and title like nothing, and then maybe throw in the time signature and key signature to boot. It's uncanny.

Virtues? He's dedicated, pragmatic, and willing to work hard. Once he's set his sights on something, he'll pursue it with an almost alarmingly single-minded determination. Stand in his path, and you'll be ripped to shreds. He's also creativeā€”has to be, really, given his occupation and dream. If his rumor-making abilities ever fall flat, it's probably because he's not trying. He views gossip as petty and shallow, anyway.





HISTORY

"Nothing special."

Keith used to care. A little too much, as it later turned out.

As a child, he was that weird kid in the corner who didn't do much but watch others. And as he watched them, he noticed. Noticed how kids who were ostensibly friends giggled cruelly about each other once their backs were turned. Noticed how easily friendships, relationships and promises were forged, and how easily they were broken. Noticed all the whispers and lies that painted people's lives, and how little value truth seemed to hold.

Then his parents divorced, and Keith didn't even see it coming. His father promised he wouldn't leave. His mother promised she still loved his father. They had held hands, declared the entire "till death do us part" thing. And yet, the divorce still happened. Why? Nine year old Keith just didn't understand. Confused and upset, he would puzzle over this question for years to come.

Fast-forward a couple years, and we have Keith getting ready to go to college. Despite monetary issues, he made it into university with the help of a scholarship. And of course, with his admittance into higher level education, there came the question of what he should study. Be a doctor, urged his mother. Become a lawyer, suggested his father (now living on the East Coast). Keith smiled and nodded, took their advice into serious consideration, and then graduated with a bachelor's degree in music composition. Needless to say, his parents were not happy campers. (In his defense, he wasn't trying to be contrary. He just happened to like music a lot.) Then came the hectic days of post-graduation, where he searched high and low for job opportunities but more often than not came up empty-handed. And then Keith Zetler did the stupidest thing he could have done in his situation.

He fell in love.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Super cheesy. But what can I say? It happens. And happen to Keith it didā€”he fell, and fell hard. Sarah LeRoux. They were going steady. Like, there was wooing and dating and everything. Laughing and cuddling. Roses and rings. It was during this period of time that Keith's music flourished the most, enriched as it was by his dizzyingly happy state of mind. It was pure emotion. Distilled passion in musical form. And lo and behold, he finally got a job at a recording company. Things were looking up; Keith was even thinking about getting married.

And then he found out about Sarah's affair, and things went downhill from there.

Keith took to drink. But while alcohol was rather nice when you wanted to forget something, it wasn't conducive to maintaining a good work ethic. He was fired.

In the aftermath of the entire fiasco, Keith reached an epiphany of sorts. Bonds, promises, vowsā€”they meant nothing. It was his parent's divorce all over again. What use was a promise, when the entire world was built on lies? What use was caring?

So he stopped caring. It helped. He wasn't hurting anymore, at least. The only problem was his musicā€”it just didn't have the same verve as it did before. And it was hard, trying to support himself when his very means of generating income was crippled. He struggled for a long whileā€”pride kept him from turning to his parents, who were probably still mad at him anywayā€”until finally, possible salvation came in the form of Robert Mann's nasty little XOXO project. Keith accepted, despite his distaste. Anything to get him on his feet and back into the music industry.



So begins...

Keith Zetler's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Keith Zetler Character Portrait: Presley Floyd
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK




Image



Malibu was not Tucson.

Keith Zetler understood this intellectually, of course. Statement of the obvious, right? But somehow, it wasā€¦well, jarring, coming face to face with the differences. California was vast and sparkling and breathed outwards to the sea; Arizona was old and dusty and curled inland. Malibu was relaxed and carefree; Tucson was stark roughness.

It should have been simple. Gold versus copper. Diamond versus coal. Indeed, most people would have been overjoyed at a chance to live with the top dogs. But Keith? He much preferred The Old Pueblo.

Donning a pair of used sunglasses, Keith frowned up at the sky in an attempt to estimate the time. The sun, suspended between a couple of errant clouds, was flying high. Sometime close to noon, then. Twelve? One? Bah. One of these days, he was really going to have to get a watch. And remember to wear it.

Anyway, he still had a bit of time left to kill before three. Humming vaguely to himself, he took shelter under a nearby grove of palm trees. Well, grove probably wasn't the best word. There were only three trees after all, and as a whole they didn't provide much protection from the sun. Nonetheless, Keith would take what he got. He sat down along the stubby brick wall that enclosed the treesā€”ignoring the indignant squawks of the couple whose picture he'd apparently interruptedā€”and withdrew from his bag a battered folder. Within the folder was a rough draft for the musical score. He was planning to present it to Mann at the three o'clock meeting, and wanted to perform a quick double-check for errors before submission.

"Excuse me, misterā€”"

His eyes flicked up, and he was thus greeted to the lovely sight of an irritated-looking man waving a camera in his face. Next to him, his girlfriend stood with her hands on her hips, posture tilted at an angle somewhere between "imperious" and "contemptuous."

A rich couple, then. Tourists, mayhap. How generic.

"ā€”but we're trying to take a picture here, andā€”"

He gave the man a blank stare, willing the him to shut up so that he could work in peace. Unfortunately, his efforts at psychic coercion were woefully impotent; Camera Man maintained a steady stream of angry chatter. The girlfriend continued her pose of snobbiness.

Sighing, Keith hefted his bag and moved away. It was a bit too noisy to do work here. Troublesome.

He ended up walking and proofreading simultaneously. (Multitasking. It was a gorgeous thing.) Eventually, he came to a halt in front of a Starbucksā€”a large, sprawling thing that practically beckoned him to enter. He peered up at the store, considering. Coffee was a favorite of his. He supposed it was the caffeine; he thrived on it. Without it he wouldn't be able to get half the amount of work done that he usually did. And he could certainly use some at the moment; last night had been spent poring over the score, making last minute edits. Needless to say, not a lot of sleep was obtained.

Making a decision, he tucked the sheets of paper under his arm and headed towards the store. As he approached, a blonde girl in sunglasses burst out of the door and swished past him. Keith paused. For some odd reason, she seemed somewhat familiarā€¦

...Wait. Come to think of it, wasn't she his coworker? That photo of the blonde girl in Mann's XOXO reality-show roster? What was her name again?

He frowned in thought.

Winonaā€¦San Diego. Or something like that.

Not that it mattered. He was sure he'd be seeing her sometime in the near future. Unfortunately enough.

Now that he'd gotten closer, there appeared to be a smaller cafe behind the larger store. It seems he had another option. He peered into the window of the cafe, noting the price of the coffee on the overhead menu, then doubled back to the Starbucks and compared prices.

ā€¦Tiny cafe it was, then.

He went in, ordered a coffee, and sat down with his score spread out before him. Being the oblivious person he was, he completely failed to notice the sleepy-eyed girl who sat adjacent to his table.

Granted, he probably wouldn't have recognized her anyway.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Keith Zetler Character Portrait: Presley Floyd
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image


Olivia Persephone, twenty-four, born in New Orleans, hit by Hurricane Katrina- known sympathizer for those hit by natural disasters. Known for her modest dressing and is playing the role of the skank, Presley rattles off little facts in her mind, attempting to keep herself from falling completely asleep by keeping it occupied. However, recalling these things hardly requires effort, for those facts are rather sparse. Of course, not everyone is aware of Olivia's roots, but when Presley has a job, she does it well. It isn't like she has anything else to do, except perhaps play around with her old viola from high school. She still knows how to play the instrument, aided by her obsession with it back in her days of Orchestra, but rarely plays actual songs anymore. In fact, her lessening devotion can be indicated by the fact that she allowed it to be moved to the house with the rest of her stuff, rather than keeping it with her. The wooden instrument probably sits safely in its case, leaning against a wall in her future room or something of that variety. She will probably be an okay roommate, I suppose. Maybe I'll- oh, that's ridiculous. Besides, Mr. Mann probably only hired me for my obscurity, she waves away an unfinished thought, Not that there is anything wrong with that. There is a sound of rustling papers, which may have startled Presley had she not been deep in thoughts. Instead, she notes it perhaps a minute after the noise is made, and her eyes slide over to glance at several sheets of music, all laid out in front of a man with a face that seems just a touch familiar. It takes a few seconds before his face registers, but the blonde woman does recognize him as being one of the other XOXO crew intended for the reality TV show. He's Keith Zetler, and his job is. . .rumor maker? Yes, I believe that's it.

Although she doesn't know as much about her fellow crew as she now does about many of the actors, the false-assistant did at least make a point to be able to match names with faces. Not that it mattered, because she is unlikely to speak to them unless she finds it perfectly necessary. Presley Floyd is a woman of few words, but many thoughts. Oh, is his cover job musician or something? Interesting, she thinks, eyes resting once more on the music. Years of going unnoticed have almost given her this assurance that she can go a surprising period of time without someone noticing that she is looking at them. Only once or twice has she ever been caught staring at a person, because typically people don't look her way. After all, she tends to fade into the background, becoming a piece of furniture or a decoration that you know is there, but never quite acknowledge.

Looking down at her smoothie, Presley observes with displeasure that it has become somewhat melty, now slightly watery and no longer quite as delectable as it had been before. She pushes herself out of the seat and shrugs the messenger bag back over her shoulder, walking past Keith as she goes to toss out the plastic cup. I could just sit here for a while more, she thinks, debating whether or not to leave. Or go down by the house now? I'd rather go when enough people are there to not notice me, I think. Even as she debates, the young woman is already sliding back into her booth.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Keith Zetler Character Portrait: Danny Crankshaw Character Portrait: Presley Floyd
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image
Image


Welcome to Malibu, kid. Where everything is hot as hell, clothes are basically optional and everybody thinks they are rich and famous.

That might as well have been the greeting sign when Danny got off of the plane in the Los Angeles Airport. He felt like his clothes were sticking to him constantly, and that he needed a new pair of sunglasses: his didn't protect from the blaring sunlight. Now, many would wonder why Danny was on the airplane in the first place - since he was supposed to be at the estate by 3pm, and it was just turning 10 o clock now. The reason? Danny had gone back to Chicago to check up on his dad, Viktor. Aw, so sweet, right? Actually, it was because Danny had heard from the grapevine that Viktor's alcoholism wasn't being treated at the moment, and he came home to find his dad passed out on the floor of the apartment that Danny had bought for him (they had sold the house after Danny left).

Not sure how Robert knew that Danny was in Chicago a month prior to the start of XOXO, but a key arrived in the mail at that very apartment, with the simple letter that 'this was the key to the estate'. Danny, who wasn't always one to get dates and times right, was supposed to fly out of Chicago to L.A the day before the meeting, but got the times mixed up and had to get a quick flight out of Chicago at 5 in the morning. Not that desirable to a kid that rarely liked waking up before 9, but he knew that this was probably the best chance for him to make some easy money.

The entire flight to L.A sucked. Danny was sober, cranky, and extremely exhausted - what made it worse was that it was another hour or two to get from the airport to Malibu. It didn't help that he had to leave his car behind in Chicago. During the flight, Danny began to think of all the fun he could have, and just the opposite: how much of a drag it was going to be with all of these 'celebreties' in one house. Truth be told, Danny was only there because he got quite famous as America's Favourite Nobody. It was a title he gave to himself, but it was rightly earned: that reality show had some massive viewing numbers, and after he ditched it? The show was yanked due to poor ratings and views. Nobody else had left. Apparently, america liked the rando that showed up in every episode, had a different name every time, and didn't do much.

So, with all of that sorted out, Danny scanned L.A with minor disgust and awe. It was beautiful once he got used to the climate, and had quite a bit to see. However, he had other things on his mind - like not being late. So, Danny grabbed his duffel bag - which basically had everything that he needed for this excursion - and hit the road to grab a taxi.

Two hours in a taxi driven by a maniac was the worst experience Danny could ever have. He was used to driving himself at the leisure pace that he did, but this taxi guy didn't understand any of those words. He obviously got lost on purpose, and took an extra half hour just to drive down a single damn road. And the bill... oh damn, Danny was ready to knock this guy out afterwards. He gave him less than he demanded for 'poor customer service'.

When he realized where he was, Danny was instantly confused. In front of him was a cafe, not an estate. He raised an eyebrow, and quickly pulled out his phone to check where in the hell he was. Realizing he wasn't that far away from the estate (judging by the weird directions that Robby gave him anyway) Danny decided to enter the little cafe for something to eat; the plane food hadn't been good. Now, as soon as he entered, Danny had the feeling that things were going to get hairy. Somebody looked at him, and then started whispering to the person across from them in a hushed voice. Danny instantly looked at what he was wearing, just to make sure the guy wasn't being all 'dude, he must have been on a plane recently, his clothing is covered in shit!'

A button up white shirt with black tie, his favourite black and grey striped sweater, black jeans and his shoes. Danny was now really worried that either this guy thought he was a nut dressing pretty classy in Malibu, or he had been spotted. He shook it off, and went to the cashier, who he could tell was hiding something as well. He gave her an intriguing smirk before saying.

"Good day miss. I'll have a tea with two sugar and a cream." She stared blankly at him, and then giggled a little. She was cute, Danny had to admit, but he was pretty perceptive when it came to people: came from standing in the shadows a lot. This lady, albeit her cuteness, had an air that screamed 'I do anybody that makes an advancement at me!' Danny wasn't sure this was because she was wearing her uniform a size too tight, or that she giggled at him just calling her a miss. Regardless, she made him his tea in their to-go cup, and for some reason had the audacity to leave a heart and her number on it. Danny gave her an intrigued look, and then walked away.

He knew he wasn't going to be calling that number any time soon: he just hoped that he got rid of it from his memory before he went partying. Didn't need to call her up when drunk now.

He quickly surveyed the cafe and realized that he hadn't put his sunglasses on since reaching L.A. He shrugged it off before sitting in an empty seat, and did what he did best: listening to the conversations around him. There was a cute blonde who looked a little lost, a gossiping couple two behind him, and a guy with a bunch of sheets spread out over his desk. Already, Danny was eavesdropping on the gossiping couple behind him, since his ears were exceptionally good after years of 'training.' Though, after a few minutes of their quiet talk, he wasn't sure if he wanted to listen anymore: between the sex, the shallowness and the fashion he lost the ability to even use his ears. Instead, Danny Crankshaw looked up at the ceiling, sipping his pipping hot tea with an air of nonchalant.

I'm not sure how the hell I'm going to pull this off. Malibu is for the rich and the famous. AKA, the snobs and the arrogance. I don't remember myself every having a shit ton of money, or popularity like these other idiots do, so this could get interesting. And seriously Crank: we need to NOT eavesdrop on the celebrities. As much as that would probably make my stay more fun than anything, I really don't need a lawsuit against me.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Keith Zetler Character Portrait: Danny Crankshaw Character Portrait: Presley Floyd
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK




Image



Something happened.

The atmosphere had changed.

Even Keith, with his shoddy-at-best situational awareness, could tell there was something going on. A slight hush had fallen over the occupants of the cafe, and then the noise had begun. Giggling, intense whispers, hushed chatteringā€”oh, it started out innocently enough, but if there was anything Keith was attuned to, it was sound. And he could tell that the sounds of the cafe were slowly but surely rising in a steady crescendo.

His mild apprehension at the increasing noise levels was validated when three women in the booth behind him burst into a cacophony of shrill laughter. Ugh, seriously? The entire reason he'd left his little niche under the palm trees was to get away from annoying people. Forget last minute attempts at editingā€”at this rate, he wasn't going to get anything done.

Behind him, the giggling ladies continued to babble in their annoyingly high-pitched voices.

"My, my," trilled Generic Annoying Lady #1. "Isn't thatā€”?"

"Oh!" breathed Blandly Annoying Lady #2. "You meanā€”?"

"Yes!" crowed Loud Annoying Lady #3. "Wasn't he was on that T.V. show we used to watch, the one that was canceled halfway through season twoā€”?"

"That background characterā€”"

"The one with no nameā€”"

"Who was his actor again?"

"It wasā€”Danā€¦Danny?"

"Dannyā€”Rickshaw?"

"No, silly, Danny Crankshawā€”"

Keith blinked. Okay, that name was definitely familiar. Which was perfectly normal, of course. When you spent a month creepily stalking a person over the internet as per your deranged superior's orders, that person's name tended to stick. Terrible memory regardless.

He glanced around the cafe, eyes searching. Three shrill women in sun hats. A happily gossiping couple. A nondescript young woman in a white cardigan. A smartly-dressed man, draped all over his chair and sipping tea. Bingo. There he was. Propping his elbows on the music-strewn table, Keith observed the actor. Youngish, dark hair, distinctive widow's peakā€”just like in the photos. So this was his soon-to-be roommate.

Joy.

Mentally, Keith ran through the wealth of information he'd compiled on the man over the past month. Mann's little "homework assignment."

Danny Crankshaw. Age twenty-five. Russian descent. Born in Chicago. Mother deceased. Minor criminal record. Playing Gregory Schroeder in XOXO...

Oh hell, Keith thought, suddenly irritable. Knowing so much about a complete strangerā€¦I feel like a freaking fanboy.

If it were up to him, none of this would be even happening. He'd be perfectly content to go about minding his own businessā€”poking his nose into other people's lives just wasn't his style, and all this snooping rankled with his self-respect. But he didn't have a choice, did he? At the end of the day, it was all part of the job. And this particular job was important, as it marked his reentrance into the music industry. He wasn't going to screw this up. Not again. Not this time.

Lost as he was in his thoughts, Keith didn't notice how intently he was staring at the actor. As it was, the staring had completely bypassed the "acceptable" line and was already treading deep into "unnervingly rude" territory. Talk about bad first impressions.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Nathaniel Crowley Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Chandler Lamonte Character Portrait: Drake Wesley Character Portrait: Keith Zetler
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image


As of yet, the people to enter after Will have been less than known-in fact, he notes that it seems only he and Chandler have arrived as of yet. So much for a star-studded cast, although to be fair three of the top young stars of Hollywood are in Mann's little TV show, even if the rest of the cast is filled out with little-knowns and one-hit-wonders of sorts. Perhaps Mann had seen some potential in these unknown actors, and hoped to help them make a name through this show. People like Mann are like that- explorers, constantly searching for an island that they can claim all their own because no one else has ever found it before. Of course, in the situation of Robert Mann, that island was an undiscovered star, or a new TV show. XOXO is hardly revolutionary, Will muses to himself, only because he is ignorant to the true purpose of the show he has agreed to be a part of- the reason for the strange choice to allow some of the crew to live with the stars. When Fiona responds to his entry with raised eyebrows, clear sign of skepticism and all that jazz, the young man only smirks at her, but his eyes settle back on Chandler. As of yet, she is the person in the room who commands the most attention, who has the strongest presence. Most people probably despise that present, both for how overwhelming it is and for the fact that it isn't exactly a ray-of-sunshine sort of light that radiates from her, but William personally finds it hot as hell. At her little retort to his simple greeting, his smirk deepens with amusement, though his nonchalant posture never wavers. "Chandler Lamonte," he mimics her dry tone perfectly, an actor after all, "Hollywood's favorite bitch." Though he says this, he knows it not to be true. Not because Chandler isn't a bitch, but because she cares about her reputation enough to ensure that it isn't as low as her true personality. He can hardly call her Hollywood's favorite fake, though, because other than that she is somewhat true to herself. Or rather, true to others when she slices them down.

A young man then walks in, sliding carefully past Will as he introduces himself as Nathan Crowley. The guy had a few big parts, and was gaining success and awareness more and more recently, but had yet to surpass William as the top of the young actors in this state. It helps that William also has fame in Europe, or at least in the UK, because he has starred in several films across the pond as well. Watch Nathan trip over his own feet and spill coffee onto the counter, William has no concerns about the klutzy actor ever beating him in the title of most desirable actor- not at the moment. "Watch out for those flat surfaces, mate. They can get ya'," he advises sarcastically. Nathan simply comes across as awkward and not worth any concern- not that Will makes a habit of concerning himself over rankings. He takes pride in being one of the best, but mostly because it means higher paychecks and hotter girls. The fame is nice because it brings those things, not because he gives a shit about being a household name. Hearing her giggle made Will's gaze flicker towards Fiona, altogether unimpressed. Sure, she is reasonably attractive and such, but the fact that she laughed at such a stupid thing was rather ordinary of her. She isn't attractive enough to make up for being ordinary. Too bad, William thinks to himself, just as another man slides past him, apparently in something of a hurry as he gives a brief greeting before continuing silently on his way. He vaguely recognizes the guy's name, meaning he must be another actor, but can't think of anything he has seen with him in it. A nobody, perhaps one of Mann's islands, as he has now decided to call them. Will hasn't really bothered to learn anything but his costar's names, and only that because he was given a list of them. He can't even name what roles different people play, with the exception of himself: the friendzoned.

It is already becoming very clear to him that Chandler is the most interesting person in the house, at least as of yet, because he doesn't know the other crew members. Laria is one of the other stars, of course, but he doesn't really dwell on that too much: she had been a fling, clear by the fact that he hadn't hesitated to cheat on her with that sexy redhead. Are there no redheads in the cast and crew? A shame, he muses. He finds redheads rather attractive, although this is partially because he sees them as a dying breed- have to screw them before there aren't any left. His stray thoughts are interrupted by a snide comment from none other than Miss Chandler herself, as the feisty young woman makes some rude comment towards Fiona, which the kid with the dreads -didn't catch his name- rushes to comfort her and right the situations. If he were more interested in Fiona, perhaps Will would be saying something as well. But as of now, he is not, and thus only raises an eyebrow at the whole scene. She, Chandler, slips past William to sit on the front porch. Being in the doorway means that he can see both parties. This place'll be interesting, eh? he thinks to himself, still smirking slightly.




Image


Like Keith, though of course she doesn't know that he can feel it too, Presley knows the instant that someone well-known enters the cafe. The three women giggling are a dead giveaway, of course, and instantly the blond woman is beginning to think that this place may be a bit too crowded for her taste. Sure, there are no more than ten people in the entirety of the establishment, but the number that are present are just enough to allow for a noise and lack of privacy which she isn't particularly fond of, despite her future job, which is to ensure some noise. The man beside her, the one whom she recognizes but who doesn't recognize her in return, seems to have a reaction of displeasure to the heightened activity of the surrounding people, something she notes. Not particularly social, perhaps, or at least not fond of such empty noise, she observes, glancing over her shoulder to see who it is that has caused the feeling of noise and unrest. As coincidence would have it, the young man is one of the cast of XOXO, Danny Crankshaw. He isn't particularly well known or anything, but has been in a sprinkle of things, and Mr. Mann perhaps hopes for him to be a star introduced fully by the TV show. The cashier he is speaking to releases a soft but high-pitched giggle, making Presley frown ever-so-slightly. She does not frown out of dislike towards Danny or the Cashier, but out of jealousy. She has no interest in the cashier, and yet knows her name, where she is living, and her current relationship status. The young woman simply rambles on whenever Presley is getting her drink- and she gets the same thing every time. However, despite the fact that Presley has patiently listened to her rants and gushing at least three times a week for the past two years, that particular cashier would not be able to pick Presley out in a crowd. In fact, she never recognizes her as being the same person- ever. It is a small testament to the fact that the blond woman is either invisible, or that no one gives a shit about the quiet girl with the strawberry-banana smoothie. But that cashier, whose name is Rachel, will remember Danny, even if she doesn't know that he is a second-tier actor. Even if she has only met him once.

The fact that other people are so easily remembered, especially in comparison to herself, makes Presley feel slightly dissatisfied- not that she would admit it to herself. She has been feigning acceptance of it for so long that the lie has partially deceived her own mind. Presley turns away as the young man seems to be lost in thought, though his head is slightly tilted as though he is listening to something. That turning away gives her a slight view of the couple, whom she pinpoints as the source of his apparent interest. The young woman glances over at the clock again, sitting alone at her empty table and deciding that she should probably make her way over to the estate about now. She certainly doesn't want to be the last one to show up, which only means arriving before the two men who sit in this cafe do. Of course, because she is currently on bike, and they might very well have cars or enough money for taxis, the chance of them arriving first remains. She doesn't intend on going quickly, after all, because from the research she has done, showing up sweaty would only result in mocking by Chandler- if the starlet were to notice her at all. Thinking about it, Presley is almost glad for her status as a perpetual wallflower. It is useful for this job, anyway. She can see and understand in this ranking.

Presley stands up and places her messenger bag over her shoulder once more, settling on the decision to depart now before any other people find themselves stumbling into the little cafe which she frequents. On her way out, she passes by both of the new housemates, and nods to the cashier as a goodbye. It is a habitual motion and, as usual, yields no response from the unoccupied young woman behind the counter. Well, unoccupied in lack of work. Rachel is somewhat occupied: staring at Mr. Crankshaw. Your boyfriend won't like that. You know how jealous he gets, Presley comments mentally as she leaves the establishment. She walks up to the bike rack and, wouldn't you know, finds her own bicycle stolen. Although her face takes on a slightly disappointed expression, she releases no sigh and mutters no obscenities. In fact, the only words which Presley has spoken all day were 'Strawberry-Banana Smoothie, please' and 'thank you'.

At that moment, a burly young man bumps into her and glances down at the woman, not bothering to apologize before pushing her out of the way as though she were a tree limb in the way and storming into the cafe. Leaning against the stone wall, Presley is suddenly aware that she had made the right choice by exiting at that moment- Rachel's boyfriend (she's been shown a picture) doesn't look happy. Oh, Rachel, Presley does sigh this time, but knows she can do nothing about whatever is going to unfold within the cafe now. She merely glances over her shoulder to ensure that it isn't something which will harm her new housemates- what sort of general assistant would she be if they were hurt in her vicinity?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Chandler Lamonte Character Portrait: Keith Zetler Character Portrait: Danny Crankshaw Character Portrait: Elias Montgomery Character Portrait: Presley Floyd
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK




Image



Danny Crankshaw's jaw twitched violently, like he was trying to restrain himself from performing a spectacular spit-take. Keith blinked at the sudden movement, and was subsequently snapped out of his trance.

Oh. He'd been caught staring, hadn't he? Well. That might get awkward later on.

ā€¦Ah, whatever. Crankshaw'd get over it.

He went back to his music. Unfortunately, it seemed that Fate had some wickedly twisted sense of humor, because he hadn't even gone over five measures when the door burst open. Wait, no. Burst was too mild a verb. The door blasted open. Exploded open. Nearly blown off its hinges open.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. It was as if the entire world was conspiring against him. Really, world? Music? What had his music ever done to anyone? Why the hell couldn't everyone just stop being morons and let him brood with his music in peace? Five minutes, dammitā€”five minutes was all he was asking!

Teeth gritted, he swung his gaze to the door to see whoever the sorry miscreant was. The sight that met his eyes almost made him forget his irritation entirely.

What. The. Hell.

Striding through the battered door, was the meanest looking creature he'd ever seen. The beast lumbered in, big hairy arms swinging like a giant double-strobed metronome, and started snarling out half-formed words at the cashier, who in turn looked rather like a deer caught in headlights.

Oh my God, Keith thought dully. It's happening. Human beings are evolving back into apes.

The cashier made a sound somewhere between a squeak and yodel as the man-beast howled at her. She sounded like a dying raccoon. In all honesty, Keith would have pitied herā€”a rare gesture in itselfā€”but as it was, he was too busy mourning the deterioration of mankind to really care.

But then the gorilla-thing tromped past him, knocking over Keith's coffee cup in its rampage of rage, and suddenly Keith very much cared.

Shitā€”

The musician managed to save his score from total annihilation by snatching up the coffee cup. Thankfully, the coffee lid prevented the entire thing from gushing out, so there were only a few brownish stains. On the other hand, it was rather horrifying that there were even stains at all. For a moment, Keith just sat there staring at his work. He wondered, numbly, if this was how Beethoven felt towards whichever higher entity was responsible for his plight. Oh, you want to be a musician? How lovely! Come on, fellow higher beings, let's give him lead poisoning so he'll go deaf! Oh, ha, a deaf musicianā€”what a hoot!

ā€¦Okay, so he was exaggerating a bit. But seriously, paper and pencil were the only tools he had at the moment. No, he did not have Finale. One needed a computer before something like Finale could be obtained, and Keith didn't have a computer. Yes, you heard that right. Shut up. He'd been struggling, okay?

"Who the fuck do you think you are to be stealing my girlfriend? Huh?"

Keith's eye twitched. The gorilla thing. He seemed to be engaged in a one-sided shouting contest with Crankshaw's forehead. A vulgar one-sided shouting contest, more specifically. How unimaginative, Keith thought, as the man rattled off a string of words that all seemed to start with the letter F. ("The fuck you fucker think you're fucking doing? Fuck you, you fucking fuckerā€”") Honestly, it was like the guy's vocabulary consisted entirely of profanity. People these days. Was it so much to ask for intelligent conversation?

Crankshaw suddenly spoke up, pelting the crass man with some snappy reply that seemed to stop him in his tracks. Smirking, the actor whirled around and headed quickly out the door, apparently deciding that gorilla thing was no longer worth his time. Within five seconds, the actor was conversing happily with that nondescript girl (wait, when had she gone outside?) intending, probably, to throw the gorilla thing completely off its tracks. With the absence of the actor, the cafe was quiet for about two seconds before Keith realized one crucial fact: the beast no longer had Crankshaw to take his anger out on. Which meantā€”

Alright, I'm out of here. He drained his coffee, gathered his coffee-splattered notes, andā€¦

Headed to the bathroom.

Best exit ever.

(What, did you think he was going to walk out the front, like Crankshaw? Hell no. The gorilla thing was blocking the front door.)

The bathroom was actually quite pleasant. Quiet, devoid of human existence, and nice-smelling. Sharp and spicy. He supposed it was the dried herbs hanging on the wall.

He finished the rest of his proofreading in the tiny single-stall bathroom, undisturbed.

And to any poor soul who actually needed to use the restroom, well. Tough luck.

By the time he exited the bathroom, the gorilla man was nowhere to be seen. The clock, however, read two thirty, so it was probably time for him to go. Sighing, Keith left the cafe and headed on over to Mann's estate. Starting work. Living with fifteen other people. Living with celebrities.

Oh, this was going to suck.



Keith Zetler stood in front of the estate, wondering how he was going to get in. He'd seen it before, of course. Moving his meager amount of possessions in had been one of the first things he did, if only to get it over with. The problem was, he didn't want to use the front door. There were bound to be people in that vicinity, and Keith did not want to socialize. Already he could see several peopleā€”a few were entering the house, one person was standing at the doorway, and someone was lounging on the front porch.

The one on the doorway was familiar, if only because Keith had seen his face painted on the covers of countless magazines. Wilson or Wilbur or something. The actor, the heartbreakerā€”the one who had more love affairs than the sky had stars. The one on the porch was familiar as wellā€”it was that Chandelier girl, sprawled all over her chair like she owned the place. Typical actor and actress, both of them. They were going to be a mess to deal with, and honestly, Keith didn't want to start now.

He ended up taking the long way around, along the stone wall under what little cover the surrounding foliage provided, and eventually ended up in the backyard. Oh, how convenientā€”a nice flight of stairs that would lead him straight to the bedrooms without human interaction. Ascending the stairs, he opened the door and entered a hallway.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Keith was not alone. Someone else was also on the floor, probably searching for his room as well. He studied the man, frowning. An actor, it seemed. El-something, wasn't it? Elā€¦El Dorado. No, don't be stupid. Elā€¦ton John. El..El..eanor Rigby.

Eleanor Rigby. The stray thought brought a smile to his face. That one was a classic. He wondered if there was a piano somewhere on the estate, it'd be so nice to play it againā€¦

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Candelaria Flores Character Portrait: Nathaniel Crowley Character Portrait: Gabriella De Luca Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Zara Lexington
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image


I should just leave now. There really isn't a point in making sure that no one gets hurt- what am I going to do, drag the unconscious bodies to the mansion? Hardly an easily accomplished feat on my bicyc- oh, right. Stolen. I'm going to have to replace that. It isn't like I can get a taxi or hitch a ride with someone else, unless I sneak into their backseat before they leave for the set. Actually, that's doable. Maybe a bit creepy, but if I'm really desperate. . .I don't want to be late to work, do I? What if they ask me to get them coffee from some strangely specific place? I'll have to walk there. I'll buy a bike tomorrow. No- after the meeting tonight. How far is the estate from the nearest bike shop? One mile? Two? It's in a residential area, so probably further than that. Well, I can always do with a nighttime walk anyway. I can watch the sunset, I guess? As long as I stick to the lighted and crowded areas. No, bad idea. I may not be mugged, but someone will pickpocket me, probably. Is that common here? Stupid question- it's already happened three times, just not recently. It happened more back home, but then I got lost a lot, didn't I? The stray thoughts run through her constantly-active mind, quickly enough that Presley is still processing the scene unfolding in the cafe behind her. Rachel's boyfriend, who resembles a caveman and bares an ironic tattoo displaying a dove on it -does he realize that's the sign for peace?- has moved on from Rachel to Danny, and shouts an impressively long string of obscenities at the actor. Rachel just stands to the side, staring at both of them with a wide-eyed expression, as though shocked.

Don't be so surprised, Rachel. You have to have seen this coming- do you ever listen to yourself? Presley thinks, though she still has sympathy in her inner voice. Rachel seems to have rather bad luck with men, from what the nondescript young woman has heard her say. Not putting all of her attentions on the loud but one-sided showdown, Presley glances over towards Keith, who isn't looking particularly happy as he looks over his sheet music, which appears to have a few coffee stains on it, from what she can see at this distance. By the time she has glanced back over to the fuss, Danny is smirking at the massive man and darting around him out the door, looking confident with his escape. One person, she notes, is less pleased with the man's decision to skip out of the fight. He does seem like the sort who would prefer a good smashing of skulls over a reasonable chat. Still, the caveman does not pursue Danny for the moment, instead opting to stare threateningly at the rest of the patrons, daring any of them to speak up about his actions and outburst of anger.

Presley watches as Keith quickly gathers his belongings and escapes any lingering wrath of the giant by hiding in the bathroom. Like a person who doesn't want to eat in the lunchroom, Presley observes. She can do so without any remorse, because she was that child- not because she was bullied, but because there was never quite enough room for the young woman at the lunch tables, and she would rather eat alone in a small place than a large and crowded one. She looks away from Keith as he disappears behind a shutting door, and now allows her eyes to stop in front of Danny. Rather than just walking past her, he stops in front of her with a polite smile. Why is he stopping? Am I blocking the bicycle rack? I suppose I am. I should apologize. He wouldn't hear it anyway, I suppose. It's easier to just get out of the way then. Oh- ouch. Now my shoulder is a little bit sore. I doubt I'm scratched, though- good thing I'm wearing a cardigan today.

When he asks her for directions, his voice sounds rather sheepish, which contrasts a bit with the smirk he had been wearing only seconds prior to this current encounter. Dubious of his sincerity, but feeling obligated to help nonetheless, Presley opens her mouth to speak, before closing it for a moment. I'd forgotten, this one is from Chicago. His accent sounds like home. I wonder if mine has faded? No, it hasn't- Mr. Mann remarked on it when I met him, didn't he? Why would I think that it is fading? I suppose my mental voice has shifted slightly? Yes, that must be it.

Are you going to the mansion? the words are intended to be out loud, but find themselves mixing with her mental monologue. Presley sighs slightly and tries again, this time speaking coherently. "Are you going to the mansion?" she asks him, an accent audible in that sentence. After speaking it, the young woman realizes that he probably doesn't know who she is, and thinks that she is just some fan who knows where he lives (or will be living). However, she does not clarify this, because she doesn't know how he will take the question, and has always been rather conservative with her words. She does not give her name, because he has not asked nor given his own. Deciding it easier, she pulls a small notepad out of her messenger bag and begins to write the directions from here to the estate down with a black bic pen. Her handwriting is in cramped yet miraculously legible cursive.

Stupid question, he probably is. Wait- rich area? That is slightly presumptuous, isn't it? There are less wealthy parts here, she thinks, but whilst doing so must acknowledge the fact that her own apartment is only marginally affordable because it is cramped, in an awkward area, and the air conditioning tends to, well, not work. I suppose it is primarily wealthy, then. But other people live here as well- where does he think that Rachel works? The people who cook his food? The person who probably drove him here?





Image


William turns his head at the sound of a car driving down the long paved path to the estate, instantly recognizing the vehicle as belonging to one of the hottest actresses in Hollywood: Candelaria Flores. The Latina is going to be playing the role of the fashionista on this show, and it is well-known that she fits the part rather well, being famous for her apparently impeccable style. Personally, Will thinks that she looks better with the clothes off, but that isn't really something the general public would know- she doesn't exactly any scandalous shots on the internet. The A-list actress steps out of her car, looking the same as always, though her hair is a bit shorter- she had apparently cut it for some recent part or something like that. She wears a smile whilst climbing up the front steps, but that expression appears to falter ever-so-slightly as she watches Chandler walk out of the building and, of course, notices Will leaning against the doorway in. The sight makes the actor himself smirk ever so slightly, though he is by no means a sadist- just a bit of an asshole. Well, perhaps slightly more than just a bit. The young woman comes into the house and introduces herself to the group, eyes scanning the motley crew as she does so.

Knowing her, she's probably memorized all of their names by now, Will muses, and not incorrectly. He may not have been serious about their relationship, but the two did date long enough for him to become slightly in tune with her personality. They had dated for nearly nine months- something he knows because that was the production length for their bit in filming the movie they had starred in together. Almost immediately after the movie premiered, the duo split and such. William hadn't had a problem with it -he didn't exactly cheat because he was looking for a committed relationship- but based on the way that she had slapped him, Laria had been at least a little bit bitter at the time. Probably something about infidelity being bad, and how she now was added to the list of 'girls Hemley dated and cheated on.' The list is actually quite elite, if only because he usually doesn't date the girls that he messes around with- just the ones he either works with, or think are especially hot/good in bed/amusing/all of the above.

The first person to respond to Laria's greeting is Nathan, the no-name actor who had spilled coffee all over the goddamn counter only moments ago, and who has sent Will a quick but dirty glance after the former of the two had made a sarcastic remark about his klutzy nature. The young man's smile is wide and irritatingly friendly. Will isn't a natural grump who dislikes seeing people smile, but he has already decided to dislike this bumbling actor, and that includes the fact that his smile is definitely way too big for his face. "Welcome to the island, Candlestick," Will greets her with a smirk, using an old nickname for her. Another kid, this one with long dreadlocks, walks in at that moment, greeting everyone and standing next to chair with two bags. Though they are not friends, Will at least nods to the guy. Douchebag though he may be, the actor tends to at least acknowledge people when they enter the room. As though they have decided to arrive in some sort of antline, another walks in only a moment later, this time a girl that William doesn't recognize, but who apparently knows the guy with the dreads, based on the fact that she goes over and pokes him in the side.

Was there some sort of preshow get-together that I wasn't told about? William wonders, raising his eyebrows as at least three of the people seem to already have some amount of prior knowledge on each other's identities. He glances back towards Fiona, remembering her comment about enemies as she greets Laria. She's definitely not from around here though, eh? What amuses him, though, is the fact that the young woman is quick to identify a nickname for herself, in order to prevent people from associating her name with Shrek's girlfriend. Honestly, this is probably counterproductive, because William, who hasn't seen any of the films about the green ogre, hadn't thought of this before, but is now curious as to who Shrek is. That popular dreamworks film, right?

Another face, this time another famous one, walks through the door. At the sight of her, William grins slightly, though her back is to him and she therefore does not see him checking her out. He's seen Zara around, of course, and must admit that she is smoking hot- the whole ice queen personality is kind of a turn on for him as well. Not because he wants to 'fix her' or some sentimental garbage like that, but because it makes her something of a challenge. He doesn't say anything at all, for now just enjoying the view. Still, this whole meet-and-greet thing is starting to severely bore the actor, and he's wondering where the assistant is- he could use a beer right now, but doubts that Robert has any stocked in the fridge. As he thinks this, someone walks briskly past him, not even stopping as he continues up the stares and, presumably, to his room. "Well, isn't he friendly," Will observes, watching the guy disappear up the stairs before sliding his arrogant gaze back to the people around him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Candelaria Flores Character Portrait: Nathaniel Crowley Character Portrait: Gabriella De Luca Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Zara Lexington
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image
Eli had found his room with relative ease. He briskly unpacked his belongings, slipping some clothes unto hangers in the closet and others into dresser drawers. After he was finished, the young actor briefly looked around. Eli couldn't hole up in his room forever and didn't plan to either. Though he wasn't sociable, he knew he'd be living and working with the people who were now poring into the mansion. The thought caused even more tension to build in his shoulders. Elias hadn't met his roommates just yet, but knew of their names - Danny Crankshaw, a fellow actor, and Keith Zetler, XOXO's music composer. He didn't mind sharing the room with others, but still wasn't prepared to become all buddy-buddy with the guys. He'd do as he'd always done - focus on his lines, complete his scenes, and live his life. Simple.

Eli slipped out of the room, passing a dark-haired brunette in the process. The guy seemed to be looking for his room as well and Eli did no more than offer a brief nod of acknowledgment before continuing back downstairs to where the group had still seemed to linger. The meeting was to take place in just thirty minutes and as said before, Elias was a punctual man. After rounding the corner back to the kitchen area, Eli spotted several new arrivals - some he recognized, others he didn't. He wasn't sure if he should offer up another introduction to the new additions, but didn't think on it too long. He wouldn't. Instead he headed toward the fridge and pulled out a small bottled orange juice. He eyed and empty stool before walking over and sitting down.

He'd almost felt compelled to speak, wanting to ease the awkward tension he felt. He was sure it was lost on everyone else, but with his distant personality the situation seemed at all sorts of odds. Instead, she twisted the cap on his OJ and took a long swig. He'd almost wished it was something stronger, but Eli didn't drink often. When and if he did, it was always in comfortable situations. This most definitely did not fall into that category. Bottle still pressed to his lips, Eli took the opportunity to look around. A young man with dreads stood next to a cute brunette, and her attractiveness wasn't lost on Eli. The blonde girl and brunette guy that had been present when he'd first arrived were still there, as was Chandler and Will. Though Chandler had taken up a new position on the couch. One guy had disappeared, but two other girls were now there as well. Eli drank it all in. The people were varied in personality, looks, everything. It would make for an interesting time off camera, certainly.

Finally, he spoke up. His words were clipped and short, his tone brief. "It's almost three. Has anyone heard from Robert?" he asked the group, indifferent to the conversations he was interrupting.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Candelaria Flores Character Portrait: Nathaniel Crowley Character Portrait: Gabriella De Luca Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Zara Lexington
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image







    She was bored already, and it was her own doing. Chandler, of course, concealed this fact by leaning back casually against the couch, crossing her legs primly and getting her phone out. Uh... yeah, nothing. Hey, when you're busy being rich, famous, and bitchy, it's hard making friends. So she texted Robert Mann. Hey, Mr. Boss, when are you getting here? She knew he wouldn't reply; he never did check his texts. She tucked her phone back into the pocket of her cover up and stifled a sigh. How boring. So she stared surveying the area. Beach. Nothing special, nothing she hasn't seen before. Average people, none of them good looking. It was time for a chance of scenery. Chandler shifted to get a better view of William. She didn't really care whether he saw her or not; she had the right to check out her coworkers, didn't she?

    Truth be told, he had made her smile. Not beaming, no, but she had smirked at his comment about being Hollywood's favorite bitch, despite her best efforts to suppress it. It wasn't a compliment she took lightly. It took a lot of work to stay away from the pressure to be seen as perfect as a celebrity. How many actresses had already succumbed to that sort of adoration and fan base? Of course Chandler put on her best face for the public. She was accommodating, occasionally friendly, and quick with a laugh, smile, or witty comment. But that was the best face she had: lighthearted and distant. She knew she wasn't a very personable celebrity. She wasn't like some of the others, who had fans crying for them when they went through a divorce, or got fan mail all the time, or had devotedly loyal fans. Chandler's fans loved her because of her talent. Or so she liked to think, anyway. She had no other explanation for the reason why people liked her. She didn't go out of her way to make people feel welcome. She tried to stay away from the 'role model' label. She didn't let fans into her personal life. She did interviews, but kept things very professional and distant.

    It had to be talent, of course. Chandler appraised William as she let her thoughts wander, noting for the second time his good looks. He really was a hottie, and one of the few who barely reacted to her 'uncalled for' comment. And his sarcastic reaction to Nathan's clumsiness had brought a chuckle out of her. She would have to get to know him, that one.

    She ignored Candelaria for now, knowing introductions would be made later on. She wasn't particularly excited about meeting the girl. So what, she was fashionable. It wasn't hard, with all the money celebrities had and the stylists available. What made Candelaria worth talking to was her talent, and Chandler had to give the girl some credit for that. She could act, that one. But then again, so could she. And so could William, who had apparently gone out with the girl for a good while. She glanced at the two of them, trying to assess the atmosphere between them. She couldn't hold back the grin that came to her lips. It would be fun, getting to see their relationship work out. Maybe she would get to see some real life drama between the two, the kind they would be playing out in XOXO.

    A man with dreads walked past her. He smiled at her, which surprised Chandler a little. He was the first person to really smile at her today. The friendly sort, hm? We'll see how long that lasts, she thought. Because put any amount of people together in the same house, and something was bound to happen. It was common knowledge. It was why best friends were recommended to stay away from becoming roommates with each other, so that their friendship would be salvaged. It would definitely be a fun few months. Not that Chandler cared. She was rarely in the middle of a tangled mess. More often than not, she was a target of someone's anger and hatred, but she never got involved personally; she didn't have time to get worked up over another person. Especially when the other person was a worker, or Shrek's wife.

    A girl walked past her. Then another girl, this one a recognizable face that Chandler had no trouble putting a name to: Zara Lexington. Apparently, she was quite the Ice Queen. Well, Ice Queen, meet the Snow Queen. Chandler may not be as hardened as Zara was, but she was definitely as cold. She wasn't expecting the similarity of their inner temperatures to create a bond between them, but it did help her feel a little less out of place. Yes, William seemed to be just as snarky as she was, but how could you count on a boy? No, he would be busy trying to grab the attention of each girl around. Even now, she could see him looking over Zara's backside. Cute.

    She couldn't hear the conversation going on inside, and she didn't care. She'd rather be outside, by herself, in her bikini and cover up. Oh, shit, it was almost three! She had to change! She ignored the others coming in, and walked after another male - a crew worker, again. God, this was getting old. Chandler kept her head high as she walked past the group, ignoring Elias's question, and headed to her bedroom. She refused to go to a meeting clad in a skimpy bikini. God, that would be terrible.

    She changed, into a simple outfit that was prim enough for a meeting, and comfortable enough for her new home. She smoothed down the tank top and tied her hair into a loose bun. The nerves were beginning to work their way into her stomach again; the riveting conversation downstairs had chased them away. She took a deep breath and began studying herself in the mirror. She looked fine. She looked ready. She looked perfect.

    As usual.






Image







    It was awkward, to say the least. Drake rubbed the back of his head regretfully, wondering if he should have just kept his mouth shut. But if he hadn't, he would have felt off balance for the rest of his time here. He wasn't the man to stand aside while a lady got insulted; he had been raised better, even with an alcoholic father and a perpetually working mother.

    "It's not even three o'clock and I already have an enemy. Thanks, Drake right?" Fiona asked, beginning to fuss with her hair. He noticed her trembling, and felt a pang of sympathy. Poor girl. She had done nothing but play with her hair, and was antagonized by Chandler for it. It wouldn't do much; from what he could tell, Chandler wasn't exactly the person whose opinion set someone's social class. She hated everyone, didn't she?

    He shook his head at her. "Yeah, it's Drake. Don't worry about Chandler. And you don't have to thank me, the knight in shining armor thing is just something I do," he said with a wink.

    Before he could say more, Candelaria Flores walked in. He shut his mouth immediately and kept his gaze on her steadily. Gosh, she was gorgeous. He began to smile as a memory began to take form.

      "Drake, do you feel like watching a movie?" Rita asked, flopping down on the couch besides her boyfriend, who was flipping through the channels lazily.

      "Sure, what's out?" he asked, his eyes moving from the TV screen to smile down at the girl beside him. She was short, with curled brown hair and brown doe eyes, and he was crazy about her. They had only been dating for a month now, but they were already living together. Probably because he had nowhere else to go. Either way, it was nice to have her around.

      "The movie with Candelaria Flores is out!"

      "Candel-who?" he gaped at her, his features arranging themselves into an aghast expression. "Is that some code name for that guy on Beauty and the Beast?"

      "What?" Rita wrinkled her nose at him, her eyes dancing. "No, Candelaria! She's an actress!"

      "Oh. Well, alright. Let's go." Drake turned the TV off and stood, stretching his arms and pulling Rita up beside him. He threw one arm over her lazily and kissed her temple. "You look really nice today, babe," he murmured in her air. She giggled and swatted him away, mock-frowning.

      "Stop that, or else we'll end up making out and not watching a new movie! By the end of it, you'll be salivating over her. She's gorgeous. I haven't met a guy who hasn't masturbated to her."

      "Um, Rita, I don't want to know you talk about masturbating with other guys. We'll see if I feel any sparks between me and Candel. Let's go."

    Rita had been right; by the end of the movie, he was convinced that he and Candelaria Flores were going to get married. He had teased Rita endlessly, making her play-jealous with his claims of leaving her for the actress. And now... now, it felt a little weird to be around her in person. Surreal. Surreal, but nice. When he first found out he was going to be around Candelaria, he had smiled and thought back to that moment. He felt no bitterness towards Rita, though she probably felt bitter towards him. No matter. He was here now, with Candelaria Flores.

    "Candelaria, it's nice to meet you. I'm Drake," he said, waving from his spot by the refrigerator. He hoped no one wanted a drink, because he had already gotten comfortable, and didn't feel like moving. Gosh, she was just beautiful. This felt so strange. He couldn't stop thinking about Rita, being around this girl. She didn't even know it, but she had been a part of his relationship with her. Her name had been a long-standing inside joke between the two of them. He would tell Rita she looked beautiful... but he thought she would look better if she cut her hair like Candelaria. And every once in awhile, Rita would buy a magazine with Candelaria on the cover and give it to him. One time, she got it for him as his birthday gift. They had even framed that birthday magazine cover, for the fun of it.

    Weird. Just weird.

    "Welcome to the island, Candlestick," William said from his spot in the doorway. Well, how awkward. Hadn't the two of them dated? He mentally shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't his business. He did recall hearing Rita talk about it, but by that time, the two had already been on the rocks, him feeling distant and Rita, in turn, becoming clingier. It had been a pathetic attempt to bring some of the previous spark and fun into their relationship, he recalled. Yes, she had tried to bring back the teasing, and he had only smiled fondly at her and ruffled her hair, like she was his kid sister. He felt a little soft pang of guilt. Poor Rita. He had apologized, and tried to make it up by her, but the two of them knew they were over.

    It wasn't his fault. He couldn't control his feelings, he really couldn't. But this William... he was different. He didn't give a shit about the girls he fucked and ran out on, didn't ever feel the nostalgia he was feeling now, didn't ever think back on a fun date and smile affectionately. He didn't ever try to work things out. He just bailed before he had to face the damage he was bound to create. A deep dislike settled over him. Part of it had to be this recollection of Rita, and the guilt he was feeling for doing what William basically did: fuck and run. It had been more emotional for him, but at the very core was the same issue: commitment. It shamed him to be anything like William.

    His gaze drifted to Candelaria. Perhaps it could change. But what was he thinking? She was an actress; he was an aspiring actor, desperate enough to go under the guise of a handyman to get even the smallest connection to Hollywood. He was pathetic.

    Jasper walked in then. Grateful for the distraction from the direction his thoughts were heading, Drake nodded right back at the man. He liked Jasper. Not so much in the 'bros for life' way, but he could see it heading towards that direction. He was certainly one of the more likable people here, anyway. He waved at Gabriella when she walked in, but otherwise decided to stay out of the social interaction for the next few introductions. If too much conversing led to something like the Chandler-Fiona fiasco, then he would rather sit in the sidelines, thank you very much.

    Zara Lexington was next. She didn't say much, to Drake's relief, and instead started talking to Fiona. Drake let his mind start to wander, predicting what would happen in the next few months. Wait, forget that, it was a daunting task, and he didn't feel up to imagining the temper tantrums that were bound to come soon. Wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't notice another crew walker walk by them and leave, and though he heard William's comment, didn't think much of it. Who cared what that guy thought, anyway?

    "Looks like I'm not the last one here, my flight was hella delayed, thought for sure I would be," he heard. He turned to look at the speaker. Olivia Pershephone. She was playing the Skank, if he could recall correctly. Again, proof that actors had to play someone entirely different from themselves often. She didn't seem to be the slut, or anything close to it. More like the sweetheart of a small town. He smiled, though his smile was beginning to feel a little tired. Too many introductions for one day.

    "Drake Wesley," he said simply. He was suddenly tired of his own name, and the repetitive routine this was becoming. He yawned and took another sip from his water bottle. He wanted to leave, but he still felt like the host of this first meeting. Thus, he stayed. But nothing else happened after; only Elias walked in and asked where Robert Mann was.

    Drake checked his watch and noted that it was, indeed, close to 3 o'clock. He shrugged his shoulders at Eli, and then straightened, clearing his throat to gather attention. "I've been here for awhile," he said, and without explaining why exactly he had been granted permission to board there early, continued, "and Robert Mann showed me where the meeting will be held. You guys can follow me." He began walking to the conference room. He had personally added in more chairs, and the effect was one inner circle of the actors, and small chairs against the wall of the room for the crew workers. Robert Mann wanted the crew workers there for obvious reasons, but he had apparently told the actors that he didn't want to have two separate meetings for both groups, and would be combining them.

    He opened the door to the conference room and motioned for the people behind him to walk in. "Come on in."

    "Gladly," Chandler said, her voice dignified and calm. He saw the hint of a mocking smirk on her lips, and sensed that she was making fun of him, with her long stride and confident raise of the eyebrows. Drake physically bit back a sigh.

    She really was trying to make him blow up, wasn't she?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Candelaria Flores Character Portrait: Nathaniel Crowley Character Portrait: Gabriella De Luca Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Zara Lexington
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK




Image



And then, somewhere between the croons of all the lonely people and where do they all come from, it hit him.

Elias Montgomery.

Yes, that was right. Elias Montgomery. The other one of Keith's assigned roommates. Which made zero sense, by the way. There was no reason in hell for Mann to be giving him two roommatesā€”no logic, no rationale. Why not that Duck fellow, or theā€¦the Rasper guy? Not that Keith had met either of them, but even then they seemed far better, far saner choices than him. Him, the antisocial person. The anti-people person. Ugh, the entire arrangement was so poorly planned out, it was like Mann had just drawn names out of a hat or somethingā€¦

ā€¦Come to think of it, that was what had probably happened. Either that, or Mann had misplaced his brain.

Anyway. As his roommate, Montgomery was another guy whom Keith had been forced to cyber-stalk. (At the library, that is. Because, again, he didn't have a computer.)

Overall, Keith hadn't found much. Montgomery's profile was far less colorful than Crankshaw's had been. Actor. Home-schooled. Florida kid. No sordid scandals, no tragic backstory, no illicit love affairs. All the signs pointed to a perfectly normal guy, which, ironically, made him something of an abnormality. Indeed, Montgomery seemed almost a halfway decent human beingā€”a true rarity in this tawdry junkyard of a thing that was show business. Seriously, with that clean record, he was pretty much a saint compared to all his peers. Especially those who wore scandals on their sleeves like ornaments of pride.

Unlike Keith, Montgomery didn't seem to realize they were roommates. In fact, the actor only offered him a curt nod before continuing on to his business. Keith raised an eyebrow at the man's retreating figure, the suddenness of Montgomery's departure leaving him no time to formulate a proper response. It was as if the man didn't expect him to respond or even care.

Cold. Distant. Zero conversation. Minimum human interaction.

Now here was a guy he might just be able to stand.

Hefting his shoulder bag, Keith turned to enter the room Montgomery had just exited. It was almost three o'clock, and there were a few things he wanted to bring along with him to Mann's little assembly. From his bag, he once again withdrew his battered music folder, as well as a notebook and pen for writing notes.

Just because he wasn't looking forward to this meeting, didn't mean he wasn't going to take it seriously.

Stashing his bag away with the rest of his possessions, Keith exited his room and headed downstairs, where he found a congregation of people who seemed in the midst of some terribly important migration. Like a flock of self-absorbed peacocks, he thought wryly, complete with a Duck at its head. Sighing, he moved to follow them. From a distance, of course.

Idly, he counted heads. Chandelier and Candelabra. Wilbur and Rasper. Winona and Elias. And a few others who looked somewhat familiar, but whose names he could not quite remember. Vaguely, he noted that Crankshaw was not yet here. Strange, that. Perhaps he'd gotten lost.

Thankfully, it didn't take long to reach the conference room.

"Come on in," the Duck was saying, moving his arms in an elaborate, gentlemanly gesture.

"Gladly," the Chandelier girl replied silkily, a smirk on her lips and a strut in her step. Keith almost snorted. Definitely a peacock, this one. Unsurprising, given her occupation.

He waited for the crowd to enter before walking in without a word, making sure to choose the seat farthest away from civilization. Civilization being, of course, the central table. Shifting his notebook to his other arm, Keith leaned back in his chair and eyed the table critically. How bothersome. All posh, glassy sheen and unnecessary floral decorations. Why anyone would put such awkwardly tall vases on a table was beyond him. It really served no other purpose than to obscure people's vision, and the flowers would eventually wither and die anyway. It was all so terribly impractical.

Then again, this was Mann they were talking about. King of impracticality. And who was Keith to question the madness that ran through the director's veins?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Zara Lexington Character Portrait: Chandler Lamonte Character Portrait: Drake Wesley Character Portrait: Robert Mann
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image

Yet another entry is made, this time a blonde girl with a rather sunny smile and a relatively familiar face. He thinks about it for approximately half a minute before recalling her from a movie with Alec Baldwin. From what he can recall at that moment, she has the tendency to play sexier parts, and yet is known for being a prim and proper little Southern miss. He's not sure where from the South she comes from, but has heard somewhere or another that she is indeed from that region of the US. This is only confirmed by a slight drawl in her voice, the accent only slightly noticeable, and only in a single word of her sentence. "Looks like I'm not the last one, my flight was hella delayed, thought for sure I'd be," she explains, smirking despite the fact that nothing about her says smug or sarcastic. Her sentence, itself, is rather simple and dull- other than the accent, the young woman isn't making much of an impression on the Hollywood A-lister leaning against the wall. Still, her somewhat prudish reputation does present some manner of a challenge to the infamous player, and he does like a challenge- what's the point otherwise? Will has always been the sort who prefers the chase to actually holding the prize, partially influenced by a broken relationship between his parents and by his dislike of commitment and consistency. Although the young man isn't actually very big on quotes, there is one by the Irish Playwrite and Author Oscar Wilde that he rather likes: Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. Though he isn't much for having his nose stuck in a book, even Will cannot deny that Wilde was a king of smartasses in his time, and cannot help but appreciate such a fact.

When Nathan speaks once more, Will is torn between being glad that he is leaving and irritated by that childishly huge smile that the klutzy actor has. It seems that he has adopted the condition of feeling that every action of a person he's decided to dislike is offensive. Still, this does not wipe the ever-present smirk from the fact of the handsome man, because he really isn't one for allowing such an expression to disappear from his face- it's like a trademark of his, the blue steel to his Zoolander, although just a tad less. . .ridiculous. When Nathan has left, Will turns towards Olivia and greets her with a nod, but doesn't feel the need to introduce himself- everyone is already aware of his identity, after all, that much is clear. Or at least, Will fancied this to be true, and it most likely was- there are a few stars in the room, but he, Chandler and Candelaria burn the brightest in terms of fame. Each in their own way, of course, but each command the attention of those around them in some form or another, this is an indisputable fact. Whether it be the noticeable personality, cutting tongue, or eye-catching good looks, which all of them had in their own ways, things about the trio had a great presence. Of course, Zara has the same demanding aura about her, but her quietness and seeming lack of personality seem to disqualify her from the rankings.

The quiet man, who had swept through the group without a word in greeting, returns downstairs with a look of importance on his face. The actor doesn't seem the type to waste words, nor the sort who would voluntarily interact with others at all, for that matter. An antisocial air seems to hang over him, though it almost seems more of a preference than a tragic fate, giving him the image of indifference and cool intellect. "It's almost three. Has anyone heard from Robert?" the actor asks, voice clipped and rather business-like. He must do fantastic in interviews, Will thinks sarcastically, though he automatically glances towards the clock and notes that it is very near to three indeed. He'd rather hoped to get the meeting over with and such, and wonders when Mann will arrive.

As these wonderings pass through his mind, Chandler passes by him and ascends the stairs, presumably to either escape the radiating atmosphere of what surely must be slightly forced cheerfulness or to change out of the little number she is currently wearing- little being a generous term for the cover-up and bikini set. Not one to deny himself the appreciation of finer things, Will's eyes follow her for a moment before returning to the group, specifically Drake. The staff worker has apparently been living in the house for a bit, probably setting things up, and so is able to lead the group up to the meeting room. As he invites people to walk in, Chandler makes a little sarcastic quip and enters with a smirk and an arrogant stride. Definitely hot, Will observes with a smirk of his own, feigning a tip of the hat to Drake before entering the room.





Image


This is apparently her turn to surprise the man before her, as her mention of the mansion seems to take him off guard for a moment, obvious by his startled expression and the thoughtful look that follows it as he zeroes in on the best explanation for how she knows about a location supposedly kept under rather tight wraps. There is a second between the point where she decides to reveal to him why she knows about the place, if only to prevent any further misunderstandings, and when a smirk forms on the man's face. Her mouth had almost opened, but remains tightly sealed as she watches the evolution of his expression, from lost to smug and then to a frown. She only notices the frown when she glances up from writing down the instructions on the little notepaper, finishing it off with a small note in the margin. Normally, she is not one for any sort of wasteful motions, not even excess words or movements, as seen by her almost eerily stillness when she ceases writing, but the young woman does have the habit of adding helpful hints and minuscule sketches in her instructions, if only for the sake of aiding whomever it is that the note is intended for. His frown confuses Presley, who gives him a quizzical look in return, blonde bangs covering her expressive eyebrows and slightly lessening the affect of her expression.

He clears his throat then, not doing a very impressive job of making it seem realistic, though she doubts that he was going for realism in the cliche and exaggerated gesture. After all, realistic is slightly less likely to grab the attention -for most people, anyway. Everything seems to grab her attention, if only as some sort of compensation for her own inability to do so. "Y'know, it would probably be easier if you just showed me the house, seeing as you already know where it is," he addresses her, and Presley begins to put away her notebook immediately, not wasting time if the course of action is to be changed. He checks his phone whilst she does this, and announces that it is almost three o'clock. She is still looking down, shoving the notebook into her bag, and her eyes widen slightly at this news. Damn it, I really need to get a watch or something. Almost three? I should have left earlier. The place is seven minutes or so from here. . .by bike. Brilliant- absolutely fantastic. Now if only the TARDIS could just show up and drop me off a few minutes early. How long is it by foot? Fifteen? Twenty? she stifles a sigh and composes her anxious expression before looking back up at Mr. Crankshaw.

"Right. Mustn't be late. Follow me," despite the softness of her voice, the last bit seems to come off almost like an order rather than a request, and she is soon turned around and walking towards the place. Although she may be relatively sweet and such, she is also very cautious about both people and her work, and terrible at small talk to boot- it is far safer to keep the conversation brief and move quickly, for the sake of punctuality and not seeming terribly awkward. She expects him to fall into step with her, and slows until he does so, which is relatively soon. He doesn't seem to type to be slow in picking things up, at least based on their brief encounter, and this is something she appreciates. Kind and unassuming as she may be, the young woman does rather dislike it when people take a millennium and a half to realize things and react appropriately. A small pet peeve of hers, perhaps. Presley's gaze slides over to look at Mr. Crankshaw out of the corner of her eyes, trying to decide whether to introduce herself. It is probably appropriate, at best, although he has not asked and very well may not care. Deciding not to give information that may not really be wanted, she remains silent. To her, all silence is fairly comfortable, but she realizes that this may not be the case for others. Should I break it? Better wait and see, she decides in the end. The walk therefore continues.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Candelaria Flores Character Portrait: Gabriella De Luca Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Zara Lexington Character Portrait: Chandler Lamonte
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image



The first person to introduce themselves to Laria was Nathan. When he told her his name she nodded. Not long after she could see a blonde girl come over to the Latina and smile at her before introducing herself, "I'm Fiona, Mr. Mann's assistant. Nice to meet you," Laria offered a small smile and was about to speak before Fiona spoke again. "Ok that was really formal, let me start over I'm Fiona but my friends call me Fi or FiFi," She shrugged, "FiFi?" She asked herself in her head. She never heard that nickname before. "I prefer not to be called by my first name, because as you can saw people reference it to Shrek. She raised an eyebrow as she looked around the room and went back to Laria. "Shrek? How can someone compare you to Shr-- Nevermind, I got it. Ok, no problem." She said with a smirk on her face once getting the reference, the only reason she had think about it was because she only saw that movie once. It wasn't her type of movie. She like classics... Not, cartoons.

She then heard someone say something to her as he looked towards the kitchen to see Drake waving at her. "Candelaria, it's nice to meet you. I'm Drake," She gave him a small smile before giving a small wave back and speaking to him with a simple, "Hi."... Was that all she could say? She was around of the most attractive men she has ever seen, and she's been in a movie with Channing Tatum. Yet, all the Latina girl could say.... was hi? Don't get me wrong, she wasn't turning insecure but she was too close to it for her liking. No, Candelaria Flores was not insecure, over a guy she didn't even know at that.

Other than that, bizarre feeling she wasn't used to feeling. The feeling of looking at him in the corner of her eyes before looking back in front of her, or how she kept messing with her perfectly painted light blue nails. Everything seemed to be going fine, almost everyone seemed rather decent, she already had her eyes on someone, and best of all William hadn't said a word toward her since she walked right past him when entering the house. Maybe it would stay like that for awhile or at least an hour. Until she heard the one voice she could tell out of anyone, the one that had the small Irish accent she used to wake to after a "restless" night before, if he didn't wake her up when he was getting up so freaking early in the morning! "Welcome to the island, Candlestick," Of course, he had to go and call her that. Candlestick, it wasn't the worst nickname she was ever given. It was just something he started to call her by when they were filming together and through their relationship, she sort of got used to it...

She looked at the ceiling for a moment before putting a smirk on her face and turning towards William in her ankle white bootie boots. She looked at him and let out a small chuckle. "Aw, thank you, Willy. And as always, it a pleasure to see you again." She said with a raised eyebrow. She felt no sadness towards the younger man, not in the slightest bit. he was just a bit bitter over him cheating on her, not that she didn't see it coming but, she didn't think it would be right after the movie ended or that it would actually hurt as much as it did. She hasn't really said a word to William since that day they broke up, sure she saw him around in magazines and even saw him at premieres of movies they both attended seeing that they were both well known by a lot of people.

Laria looked at Zara as she entered the house and went directly to Fiona to tell her something. Laria didn't know what it is but to be frank it probably wasn't any of her business anyway. She heard Will saying something and turned her head towards him to see a guy walk right past him to go up stairs, "Well, isn't he friendly,". She let out a small scoff and rolled her eyes once more. She couldn't help it, being around Will just made her roll her eyes at him and the things that came out of his mouth. Laria saw Elias come back into the room and ask about Mr. Mann. And, to be honest, she was wondering the same thing. And not long after she heard Drake reply to him, "I've been here for awhile and Robert Mann showed me where the meeting will be held. You guys can follow me." She wondered why he stayed longer than the rest of them. She was just curious about a lot of things in life.

When she started to see him walk towards the conference room, she followed. She wanted to say something to him but by the time she was about to say it, the group had made it to the room where the conference would be held. Drake told them to go in and Chandler walked right past him with a quick, "Gladly." She didn't know how to make out Chandler for some reason. she wasn't that cut an dry to just go head and call her a bitch. And, after the younger actress entered, Will wasn't far behind with that signature smirk on his face. She fixed a piece of her black hair before going into the room and offering Drake a smile as she did. She didn't say anything, mainly because she didn't know what to say to him with out it either being one word or her accent coming out like it aways did when she was around new people who caught her eye, mostly guys. She walked into the room and took a seat far from William just so nothing would come up between them. She was professional in a meeting and it he wanted to start something after, fine. Just not now.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Candelaria Flores Character Portrait: Gabriella De Luca Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Zara Lexington Character Portrait: Chandler Lamonte
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image





Jasper watched as more and more people came into the house, mostly cast members. Like Zara Lexington, the girl who was surprisingly playing the party girl. For someone who rarely showed emotion, or spoke for that reasoning, she must be a good actress and very believable in roles. He watched with his dark brown eyes as the quiet girl walked over to Fiona, a girl he didn't know much about. At least not yet, all he knew was the Gabby didn't really like her and she made that perfectly clear to both Jasper and their other guy friend, Drake. But, in his opinion, she seemed like a rather likable girl. Not that he would even think of disrespecting her even if he didn't like her. He just couldn't.

He could hear William say something just as Keith walked right past him up the stairs. Keith, another person he didn't know much about except that the Hawaiian and Keith were probably polar opposites of each other. Something that rarely worked out for the best. He looked William as he said something to his ex-girlfriend and co-star, Candelaria. That had to be awkward for the both of them, or at least for one of them. And, if not, he could feel the tension that the Latina was giving off to him as Jasper saw her attention go from Drake to Will. Oh, God. Hopefully, they would be able to build a bridge and get the Hell over it because he had to share a room with the guy and if he had to hear them arguing... he was going to lose his very long temper.

He could see Will nod towards him, well at least he didn't hate him. For now at least, hopefully it would stay that way. Because, he may have been taller than Will but, he still could probably win in an actual fight between the two. No one was that big of an ass without getting into a few fights. "Looks like I'm not the last one here, my flight was hella delayed, thought for sure I would be." He looked at the door and could see a really good looking blonde coming inside the house. He couldn't help but smile as she talked. There was just something that set her apart from the others girls. From what he learned about her, she was in no way a slut like her character. She was actually the opposite of that, thank God. Looking at her, he could feel Gabby smirking up at him with her teeth showing a bit.

"Shut up, Gabriella." He said to her under his breath before clearing his throat. He looked over at Drake and could see him looking at Candelaria. It was nice to see that if you like or felt something for someone, no matter the age, you couldn't hide it if you tried but, at least with Candelaria and Drake they were a year apart, but with himself and Olivia... she was three years older than him. Which felt a bit strange. He attention went back on to Drake as he answered Elias question about Robert Mann. "I've been here for awhile and Robert Mann showed me where the meeting will be held. You guys can follow me." Jasper knew that Drake stayed at the house longer but he wasn't close enough to the man to ask why. And, the only reason he knew was because he had to check all the cameras he put in the house.

Jasper grabbed his two camera bags and followed behind the group. After William, Chandler, and Laria went into the room he went into the conference room before taking a seat that was against the wall. He slipped the two bags off of his shoulders and gently onto the floor before messing with the bracelets on his arms.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Fiona Santiago Character Portrait: Candelaria Flores Character Portrait: Nathaniel Crowley Character Portrait: Gabriella De Luca Character Portrait: William Hemley Character Portrait: Zara Lexington
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Image



3:15PM ~ 4:30PM





    "You all should know this from reading your scripts - as I'm sure you all have done - but here's what I'm planning for XOXO: Elias, who do you play again? Oh yes, that's right, Ryder. To make things simple, Ryder and Veronica, the skank, are going to become friends with benefits, hook up buddies, keeping it a secret from the rest of the group for the hell of it. But Ryder's youngest sister is going to get in a car accident, and Veronica is going to be the only person who is able to get to him. As in, they're going to fight and have hot sex. Predictable, I know. I need the two of you to start the foundation of that bond. I need the two of you to start talking, at least about your characters and the bond they share. I need complete cooperation here, slaves."

    "As for you, Zara... you look particularly beautiful today. Hannah - that's her name, right? - is in love with Ryder. Mostly because he was the only one who didn't pay attention to her. She's constantly throwing parties to catch his attention, and of course he shows up, but instead of kissing her neck, he's fondling some other skank. Uh, not Veronica, Olivia. A random skank, not an important skank like you, sweetheart. So I'm going to need the two of you - Zara and Elias - to try this out. I need you to tell me what needs to work, what needs to change, how well the two of you can act it out. Zara, you must be all over Elias, and Elias, you'll notice, of course, and you'll find it amusing, but... who the hell cares? She's just another chick, right? Another chick you can dick."

    "And you, Candelaria, with the beautiful name, you are essentially playing yourself, am I correct? Bianca, your character, has strong feelings for Joseph - William Hemley, that's you, you're Joseph. You're going to deny it, of course, but the two of you are best friends, and you're always calling him, asking him to hang out with you. For once, Joseph gets to friend zone the one girl who actually has feelings for him, meaning, he's completely oblivious to her feelings and is always nice to you, always going to be with you when you're 'bored' or 'hungry.' The two of you, start buddying up. The two of you are going to be inseparable."

    "But not completely inseparable... Joseph is in love with Veronica, remember? You gotta feel sorry for the guy. He's actually going to catch Veronica and Ryder in the act; I know, it sucks. Your task, William, is to practice being in love with Zara. I don't see how that would be hard for you, the girl's gorgeous, but just tell me how the chemistry goes later."

    "And Nathan ... Trent is in the background in this one. Watching everyone fall apart. You know everything, you see everything, and you're going to be blackmailing all of them. In fact, you've got your eye on little miss Bianca. Of course you're attracted to the girl; she's wealthy enough to catch his eye, right? He doesn't particularly like the girl, the two get into more fights than real conversation, but he finds it fun. He likes it. So, weasel your way into our beautiful Candelaria's life. That shouldn't be hard; she doesn't bite. Not often, anyway."

    "Our favorite jokester, Gregory! Danny, your character is a riot, the scenes we have for him are hilarious. He's intrigued by Cindy, that is, Chandler's character, and is always trying to get some fun out of her, but as fun as she is, Cindy only thinks the two of you are friends - which, right now, the two of them are. But it will grow into something larger, let me assure you. I need you and Chandler learn to be comfortable around each other. Start talking, spend some free time together. Just learn how to relax when the two of you are together, laugh, smile, so that the friendship is natural on camera."

    "And last but not least, Chandler, Cindy Peters is not a very large part in XOXO just yet. She's kind of in the background, but she's going to be the mediator for every relationship. Everyone's spilling their guts to Cindy Peters, because she's the girl who keeps her mouth shut all the damn time. You have the same homework assignment as Danny, but otherwise, that's it. Your time in the spotlight will come later, the screenwriters are still working out the kinks of your grand debut."

    "You guys didn't expect homework, did you? No, you are going to be working your asses off. I expect only the best from you, because I know you're capable of it."

    "Meeting adjourned. Workers, stay after. We have some technical matters to discuss."




    "You heard everything that just happened. You know exactly why I put those people together. Elias and Olivia are not the people you would imagine to be good friends... find a back story for that. Writers, that's for you. Be creative, show me what you got and I might even consider giving you a job. All of the pairs are a little unexpected. Zara and Elias, the silent but beautiful statues... Candelaria and William, the ex-es... I felt a little bad putting them together, really, but the script was originally like that, believe it or not. You can all guess the drama just waiting to be caught on screen. William's bound to try to get Olivia out of her shell, probably into her pants... Danny and Chandler? I know Chandler would most definitely be repulsed at the idea of them having to be friends. Work with it."

    "I want all of you to keep an eye on all of them, but pay a little more attention to your roommate. Or for some of you, roommates, as I announced earlier in the very beginning. If you can, if you're daring, steal a diary entry, a phone, anything. I expect to see results. A meeting will be held in two weeks; bring something big by then."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Robert Mann Character Portrait: Keith Zetler
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK




Image



"I want all of you to keep an eye on all of them, but pay a little more attention to your roommate. Or for some of you, roommates, as I announced earlier in the very beginning. If you can, if you're daring, steal a diary entry, a phone, anything. I expect to see results. A meeting will be held in two weeks; bring something big by then."

And so Robert Mann capped off the speech with his customary, more-dramatic-than-necessary flourish. Vaguely, Keith supposed that he was going to have to get used to it, now. All the theatrics, the drama, the over-the-top actions and reactionsā€¦

Not for the first time, Keith wondered if he should just call it quits. Cut his losses while he still had his sanity intact. This place, full of fake people and their fake, fake words was the worst place in the world for him. But then he glanced down at the battered folder in his hands and remembered. It's for the music, Keith. It's always been for the music.

Everyone else was leaving. They scuttled and slinked and slid, oozing out of the room like a trickle of surly ants. Keith lingered, barely glancing at his co-workers. He wouldn't follow. There was still some unfinished business to attend to, after all.

"The scores," the aspiring musician said bluntly, holding his folder out to Mann with a steely look in his eyes. It was only supposed to be a cover, this musician thing, but it would be a lie to say that he'd ever considered it as such. Musicā€¦it defined him. And by God was it infinitely more preferable to all this gossip mongering business.

Yes, he knew what he was getting himself into when he signed up for this insanity. But he also knew what he was truly here for. And by the knowing glint in Mann's eyes, he knew it, too.

"Ah," Mann said, plucking the folder from Keith's stiffly proffered hand. "Now, that was certainly fast! Looks like our little virtuoso has been working hard, hmm?"

Keith gave him a flat look. "Don't call me that. It's creepy." And it was. Truly.

But instead of the intended effect (i.e., get the hell away from me), the comment soared right over Robert Mann's head like a badly aimed paper airplane. He didn't even reply to the statement; the man only grinned and leaned slightly forward. Perfectly warm and charming. One hundred percent businessman smile. And yet, there was something calculating in his expression that made Keith feel uneasy. Behind that teddy bear smile was a shark's grin. Keith was suddenly reminded, with startling clarity, that this was the man puppeteering the entire fiasco. The man who wasn't afraid to manipulate others, who wasn't afraid to dissect themā€”any one of them. Person by person, piece by piece, tear out their hearts and then leave them lying thereā€”a quivering, broken mess.

For one paranoid moment, Keith wondered if Mann was conducting a secret reality T.V. show of the damn reality T.V. show itself, before common sense smacked the logic back into him.

Just. Calm down, focus. He's all smile and no teeth. All lure and no rod. Just, just whatever you doā€¦don't bite.

Mann twirled a finger at him.

"I meant it, you know. Writers that impress me get a job."

"I'm not interested in screenplay," Keith found himself saying. Distantly, he realized that this was the most he'd ever said in a single day, at least for a long time. Thirteen words. Sixteen, if you counted his coffee order from earlier. ("One coffee, please.") Damn, he was really getting soft.

Robert Mann chuckled.

"Woah, woah, hold upā€”who said anything about screenplay? No, I'm talking about a real, honest-to-God position in the music industry. Official composer of music for XOXO. Toss in a few recommendations here, a few suggestions there, and boom, what do you knowā€”instant credibility, rocketing you to the top."

ā€¦Alright, forget the not biting thing. Keith was snagged, and he knew it, too. Hook, line, and sinker. But, in his defenseā€”did it really count as manipulation if he was aware of his employer's machinations? Admittedly, it was more on the side of willful stupidityā€¦but this was a cause Keith could get behind.

It's always been for the music.

"I'll see what I can do," Keith finally said.

Twenty-two words. Seventeen sheets of music. Two actors to humiliate. And one deal with the devil.



Veronica Lutz, the skank, is secretly obsessed with comic books.

Ryder St. James, the heartbreaker, is a fanatic collector of Beanie Babies.

Both are intensely ashamed of their respective hobbies and go to insane lengths to keep them secret. Unfortunately, fate has other plans. Through some extremely convoluted coincidences and a bit of divine intervention, they learn each others' secrets. Bound together by the supreme power of embarrassing avocation, the two brave the harsh, judgmental gaze of the world around them andā€”


...I don't even know what the hell I'm writing.

Without warning, Keith crumpled up the paper in front of him and tossed it in the rubbish bin.

Alright. Take twelve.

When Ryder St. James isn't wooing girls or breaking hearts, he's hang gliding.

One day, a freak gust of wind sends him careening off course. As a result, he crash-lands in Veronica's bedroom. Because that's how things work. Naturally. (Shut up, logic.)

So there they are, one devilishly good-looking fellow in a divinely good-looking girl's bedroom. After the customary exchange of death threats, the two quickly reconcile and, being hormonal teenagers, naturally decide toā€”


Crackle-thud. The sound of another paper finding its way to the rubbish bin.

Take thirteenā€”

Every night of the new moon, Veronica Lutz sneaks into her family's basement and practices voodoo magic. It's an outlet for her inner turmoil and insecurities, you see. Because year-long grudges and plots of revenge are perfectly healthy activities.

Anyway. Miss Lutz is furious with Ryder for some reason or another (who was Keith to understand the alien mind of teenagers) and so she makes plans to curse him. But then she decides that a simple cursing isn't enough, so she creates a mini-Ryder voodoo doll and sticks a billion pins in him. She mails the entire gruesome ensemble to him on his birthday.

Unfortunately for her, she's in such a blind state of rage that she forgets to omit the return address on the package. So Ryder soon figures out who his creepy offender is.

He confronts her about it. She vehemently denies everything. In fact, she more than denies it. She blames the entire thing on her imaginary friend, Charles. Naturally, Ryder is concerned about her mental state. But instead of doing the sensible thing and dragging her to a doctor, he decides to make out with her. Because insanity is hot, or whatever.

ā€¦And the two lived happily ever after.


Crumple. Rubbish bin.

Keith was not a creative writer. His art was sound, not words. These pitiful and downright sad attempts at character development were quickly flatlining into nonsense, and honestly? His sleep-deprived brain wasn't really helping, either.

He had to go clear his head.



There, silhouetted in a halo of unearthly light, was the most wondrous creature Keith had ever laid eyes on. A smooth, glistening body. A curved, perfectly-proportioned frame. Sleek, beautiful legs. Flowing velvet cloth that hung like heavenly tresses.

Slowly, as if disbelieving of the sight before his eyes, he inched ever closer. Once he was close enough, he reached out and brushed the shining lettersā€”golden patterns over dark skin.

STEINWAY & SONS

Robert Mann really did go all out. Here, in this lovely half-shuttered room, was a glorious Steinway piano.

He'd always wanted one. Always. Unfortunately, the closest he'd ever gotten was a dinky old electric keyboard scavenged from a yard sale.

This was something in a whole other league.

He ran his fingers over the keys and thought immediately of the song thatā€”thanks to Eliasā€”had been playing through his mind for the better part of the day.

And so he played.

And so he remembered.

It's always been for the music.