Different and nice.”
He smiles awkwardly, words evaporating in his brain, full of molten emotion at hearing her say his name.
She flings her hand out toward his shoulder, but not touching, which he appreciates more than contact, “O-o-o, I didn’t say that well. It’s a nice name, and I’m not fond of cutting nice names short.”
“That sounds like a great reason to me, and I wasn’t offended.”
She snickers, “It’s a good thing Mr. Price’s over there by the bar; he’d’ve wanted to kill me for being so awkward.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him, Rhonda; he’s no good for you anyway.”
Raising a thin red eyebrow, like the top of a fiery question mark, “Now, what makes you say that?”
Scratching at his neck, “Well, you call him Mr. Price for starters. What does he call you?”
“Rhonda,” she pauses, “Well, not all the time. Most of the time I’m ‘darlin,’ ‘sweetheart,’ or ‘baby.’”
“Does that bother you?”
“No, I don’t think it does. He…he doesn’t mean anything by it; that’s just how agents are. Hollywood’s a weird place.”
“Well, that’s true.”
“So, why is he bad for me? Mr. Fuze, you’ve captured my interest in this one.”
“Mmmmm, he’s not a nice guy. Working in Hollywood, you hear some things, and he’s not a good person.”
“Got me work; he got me on my first TV show. Got me in this party tonight.”
“Yes, but that’s not a reason to be rude to you.”
Twisting her lips for a moment, “at makes you so convinced that he’s bad for me? Didn’t you say that you’re a new writer?”
“Yeah, I am a new writer, but that’s my job: I study people. Good writers study people around them for behaviors. You can’t write a believable character without knowing how that character would act in real life.”
“I see, and how do you think I would act?”
“You act a lot more polite than Mr. Price. I can already see that much.”
“What else do you see, Chester?” she asks with a raise in both corners of her lips.
Pointing inconspicuously with his hand across his midsection, “See Harvey over there? He’s picked out the most drunken girl at the bar to have a conversation with. She definitely doesn’t work for the show; got to be an actress. And, low and behold; there’s his business card. Mr. ‘I can make your dreams come true’ and an eager and hopeful girl are making a business transaction of sorts. There’s nothing friendly about it.”
He smiles as he looks back toward her, mildly amused at how fortuitous it was for Harvey to have taken out his business card in the middle of Chester’s analysis of the situation. With her eyes growing soft, her face looks like she’s been slapped.
“I’m sorry, Rhonda, did I say something wrong? Sometimes I get a little overzealous when I’m trying to be funny. Probably why the show hired me.”
Releasing her lip, “That’s not how I signed with him. I would…I would never…”
“Oh, oh, of course you wouldn’t. Man, I’m an idiot. He would never behave like that with you because you have talent. This girl is drunk at a party. He has no intention of representing her—he hasn’t even seen any of her work. He just wants her to think he will. I mean I wouldn’t trust him if I were you. I wouldn’t put him past hitting on you, especially as beautiful as you are. I just know you wouldn’t go for it.”
She sniffles, and turns her face into a smile.
“What? What is it?” he asks.
“You said ‘beautiful.’ Most boys say ‘pretty.’”
“Well, it’s true. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s nice. It’s nicer than the shorter version. Just like Chester.”
He snickers. He knew she was smart, despite what all the rag grocery store newspapers would purport. He had seen her in interviews, and he felt the depth of the emotion in her movies. No one could be that convincing without understanding the situation of the scene fully: every
He smiles awkwardly, words evaporating in his brain, full of molten emotion at hearing her say his name.
She flings her hand out toward his shoulder, but not touching, which he appreciates more than contact, “O-o-o, I didn’t say that well. It’s a nice name, and I’m not fond of cutting nice names short.”
“That sounds like a great reason to me, and I wasn’t offended.”
She snickers, “It’s a good thing Mr. Price’s over there by the bar; he’d’ve wanted to kill me for being so awkward.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him, Rhonda; he’s no good for you anyway.”
Raising a thin red eyebrow, like the top of a fiery question mark, “Now, what makes you say that?”
Scratching at his neck, “Well, you call him Mr. Price for starters. What does he call you?”
“Rhonda,” she pauses, “Well, not all the time. Most of the time I’m ‘darlin,’ ‘sweetheart,’ or ‘baby.’”
“Does that bother you?”
“No, I don’t think it does. He…he doesn’t mean anything by it; that’s just how agents are. Hollywood’s a weird place.”
“Well, that’s true.”
“So, why is he bad for me? Mr. Fuze, you’ve captured my interest in this one.”
“Mmmmm, he’s not a nice guy. Working in Hollywood, you hear some things, and he’s not a good person.”
“Got me work; he got me on my first TV show. Got me in this party tonight.”
“Yes, but that’s not a reason to be rude to you.”
Twisting her lips for a moment, “at makes you so convinced that he’s bad for me? Didn’t you say that you’re a new writer?”
“Yeah, I am a new writer, but that’s my job: I study people. Good writers study people around them for behaviors. You can’t write a believable character without knowing how that character would act in real life.”
“I see, and how do you think I would act?”
“You act a lot more polite than Mr. Price. I can already see that much.”
“What else do you see, Chester?” she asks with a raise in both corners of her lips.
Pointing inconspicuously with his hand across his midsection, “See Harvey over there? He’s picked out the most drunken girl at the bar to have a conversation with. She definitely doesn’t work for the show; got to be an actress. And, low and behold; there’s his business card. Mr. ‘I can make your dreams come true’ and an eager and hopeful girl are making a business transaction of sorts. There’s nothing friendly about it.”
He smiles as he looks back toward her, mildly amused at how fortuitous it was for Harvey to have taken out his business card in the middle of Chester’s analysis of the situation. With her eyes growing soft, her face looks like she’s been slapped.
“I’m sorry, Rhonda, did I say something wrong? Sometimes I get a little overzealous when I’m trying to be funny. Probably why the show hired me.”
Releasing her lip, “That’s not how I signed with him. I would…I would never…”
“Oh, oh, of course you wouldn’t. Man, I’m an idiot. He would never behave like that with you because you have talent. This girl is drunk at a party. He has no intention of representing her—he hasn’t even seen any of her work. He just wants her to think he will. I mean I wouldn’t trust him if I were you. I wouldn’t put him past hitting on you, especially as beautiful as you are. I just know you wouldn’t go for it.”
She sniffles, and turns her face into a smile.
“What? What is it?” he asks.
“You said ‘beautiful.’ Most boys say ‘pretty.’”
“Well, it’s true. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s nice. It’s nicer than the shorter version. Just like Chester.”
He snickers. He knew she was smart, despite what all the rag grocery store newspapers would purport. He had seen her in interviews, and he felt the depth of the emotion in her movies. No one could be that convincing without understanding the situation of the scene fully: every
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