Take 'em to the bridge

[tandt]

*TIMELOST

Temperance Marshall entered into the faux tribal interior of one of many Starbucks found on the Boulevard. This one seemed to be particularly well-funded, though she didn’t come here for the view. Hell, she barely came here for the drinks. It was a public and well-known place from which to network, and even though the chocolate tasted stale and the bagels were hard, it was better than McDonald’s.

Temperance approached the register and placed her order without looking at the employee — her attention was focused on finding her debit card.

“Mocha, no cream, please.”

A marching band sounded off in her head when she pushed aside a half-melted candy bar and saw her card. She passed it to the cashier, made her purchase, and began the tedium of waiting for however long it took these slackers to make her order.

Punctuality was a necessity in this business. Temperance had learned that lesson long ago. Though kindness and courtesy would imply it obvious, not everyone thought as she did. Because of that, she would be lenient — a one-time favor — only once should her new client arrive past the designated time.

She sat down at a corner table and crossed her legs, setting her purse on the seat beside her and extricating from it her mobile. She dismissively checked the time and then began organizing her schedule. For both herself and her clients, a life well ordered was critical.

3:47. Edward Tate had just over ten minutes to arrive. If he didn’t know the location, one of the first things Temperance would suggest is that he purchase a GPS for his vehicle. He would be doing a lot of traveling should he hit it big, and in Hollywood, many lots and studios were cleverly hidden away. This wasn’t the business that allowed a large amount of wiggle room; he’d have to adapt quickly or be kicked back to the destitution of the business he left behind.

[tou]

"Could you possibly... y'know," Edward grumbled in the back of the taxi, his eyes frantically skipping back from his phone to the back of the cabi's head. "speed it up? I have a time-sensitive appointment. I'm already late, and I don't want to keep her waiting, y'know?"

The cabi was quiet since he'd gotten into the cab, but now he seemed to grow even more quiet, sagging into the soft leather couch that was the front seat of his cab. His breathing was shallow, as if he was under some sort of stress, but he still kept his composure on the road, obeying the limit, running up the meter oh so cleverly, and continuing to ignore the pleas coming from the back for him to speed up.

Edward stared at the back of his neck for another five or so minutes before he threw himself back, his hands raising up, defeated, the minutes ticking away, and possibly so even the nerves of his newly found agent. The agent he'd not had a real conversation with yet. The agent who probably felt that at this point, she was wasting her time on some low-down adult film trash.

"Look," Edward began, his hand grabbing down on the back of the front row couch, pulling himself closer to the cabi. "Ju-just let me out here. I really need to get there, and you're driving too slow. The place is just two or so blocks from here. I can jog it."

The driver carried on for another minute acting as though he hadn't heard before pulling over slowly as ever, turning around to face Edward and sticking his hand out demanding his payment. "Twenty-three bucks." he said through a voice apparently clogged up by a solution of mucous and spit.

Edward flipping through his wallet and handed out exact change, completely ignoring any sort of unwritten rule which would demand he shell out extra as "tip". The concept itself bothered him, being that he was so cheap, nonetheless to give tip to one so undeserving and so undedicated to his craft as to speed up a little when delivering a client. Edward was hot with anger, though he'd never let it show. He closed the door as if he would were he calm and stuffed his wallet back into his back pocket before he took off in a steady stride.

He pushed open the door to the coffee shop, allowing the cool air to wash over him as he stepped out of the heatwave. He shuffled through the crowd, all the while scanning the tables for the face he's engraved into his head. Brown hair... a mole... green eyes--got her! He scattered over to her, placing his hand on the seat opposite of her, at the same time taking off his hat and pressing it to his chest.

"I'm so sorry I was late--it won't happen again."

---

notes: oooooooh sooooooo freee~
outfit: to the left

[tandt]

*TIMELOST

Temperance sighed — the only acknowledgment Edward would get — and didn’t immediately look up from her mobile. Having waited a good six minutes longer than anticipated, she found herself absorbed in prettying up her complex organizational system. Because he had made her wait, she felt it only fair that he be forced to endure the same courtesy.

“Mocha, no cream,” called a young woman from the front counter. Temperance looked up in response and set her phone on the table, moving to retrieve her drink and without breaking her stride, spinning on her toes and walking back, delicately sipping the hot beverage all the while.

She let another minute of silence drift by before sliding her mobile back from whence it came and interlacing her fingers, matching the gaze of her delinquent disciple.

Temperance Marshall was pretty enough to be an actress, or a model, herself, though business dealings such as these were given a fair amount of bemused tolerance. The industry expected her to wear skirts, heels, and copious amounts of make-up. She did so, all the while subconsciously chanting an oath of comfort and warm water at the earliest convenience.

Edward Tate was a man, but more importantly, handsome. Provided he bathed regularly and kept his hair in-check, he would be given a great amount of leeway. Still, one of the few ironies of Hollywood that Temperance so enjoyed was knowing how uncomfortable men were when they too were forced to wear make-up. Unfortunately for Edward, he'd be experiencing that in spades very shortly.

“First impressions are critical, Mr. Tate. Were I a casting director, I would have locked the door the second you didn’t arrive on time. The agency calls that ‘hooky’, and I’ve seen way more important clients released from their contracts because of it.”

She leaned forward, a coy smile on her face. She was studying him, not just because a good agent knows the most intimate details of her client, but because based on the picture she received, she assumed he’d be shorter. She’d have to reevaluate that shoe commercial she had planned…

“So, let’s put that nastiness behind us and start fresh.” She held out her slender, soft, and perfectly manicured hand. “Temperance Marshall.”

[tou]

She sure knew how to make a guy feel terrible. He timidly pulled out the seat, placing himself into it, and putting his hat upon the table being careful not to aggravate the situation further by disturbing anything near her. The silence was drawing in on him, constantly uneasing him as she retrieved her coffee and sat back down, apparently allowing the silence to marinate into him, down to his bones.

Since he saw the clock pass the golden hour planned by her through a text message, his heart began to pound, the threat of a scolding looming over his proverbial horizon. His unease was definitely in part owed to this very fear, and when it came, internally, he began to cower. It was odd. She was beautiful, this much was inarguably true, and he'd come to expect beauty to come with teeth in his former line of work, but not also with a sharp tongue. At least not on its own. Not from a woman.

"Um--yes, I definitely understand. Like I said, I won't allow it to happen again." he said frantically, willing to apologize a million more times if it would get him onto her good side.

Like a child, his gaze wandered, the stress of the situation wearing on him. To the untrained eye, you'd think he were some sort of amateur to awkward situations, especially in his line of work. But who could stare at this woman without either breaking down or crying? Especially while she was staring back. In the back of his mind, he could feel himself being judged as he was so many times in the past. He handled it like he did every time. By acting like he didn't notice, and shooting the occasional glance back to check if the person was done with their evaluation.

His eyes shot back upon the sound of her voice, shockingly more gentle than before, loosening him from the emotional shackles she'd placed him in just moments before. He extended his hands out to hers, enveloping her elegant petites in his gargantuan feelers.

"Edward Tate. Pleased to meet you." he smiled.

---

Notes: i got feeeeeear on a sunny day~
Muse: buzzin' all over me!

[tandt]

*TIMELOST

She didn’t let it linger, lest he begin to think she was warming up too him. “Enough with the pleasantries,” she chided, pulling her hand away and leaning back in her seat, once again finding her mobile in hand. “Let’s get down to business.”

Temperance pushed a few keys and cleared her throat, analyzing and rehearsing the first few things she had annotated before relaying them to Edward. “First thing’s first. Is your portfolio up-to-date? You should get new head shots every six months, as well as after any major image changes or injuries.”

“Though I’m sure you know this, I want to go over it again: Your portfolio must be current. It should list all films you’ve acted in, no matter how minor the role. Cameos and voice talent should also be listed though never before leading roles.”

She flicked her thumb down, causing the scrolling digital image of her mobile to change screens. “You have two readings tomorrow. One is for Hanes — I doubt for socks — the other is for a villain role in an upcoming buddy cop film.” She looked up at his eyes immediately, hoping to catch that fleeting look of disappointment when what she told him next took hold. “It’s a henchman role. You’re not a leading man yet.”

She took another sip of her drink then made a gesture towards the front with her head. “Do you want something to drink? I recommend water. I need you trim for callbacks should Hanes like your tush.”

That was meant to be the last bastion of levity in an all-too serious conversation. Truth be told, Hanes was fairly particular about who they let model their underwear. Still, Edward had a decent shot.

[tou]

He pulled his hand back shortly after she did, trying his hardest not to look nervous or feeble, perhaps something he was failing at, and rather miserably. Placing his hands flat upon his shorts, he wiped away the sweat that was building up, the pressure building up as she started going about the things he'd need if he was to work with her.

"My last agent had me redo my portfolio about three months ago just before I came out here from Boston. I haven't done any... movies since then so it's all recent." he informed her, leaning over onto the table, his hands rubbing one another.

He began to analyze her as she peeked through her mobile, checking appointments she'd lined up for him already, and informing him of them. Something about it all was surreal. Incredibly different from his last agent in that she wasn't selling him for his private parts and more for his artistic quality as an actor, if that even existed. But even then, she had a power about her, unlike he'd ever seen in a women of her age. He felt incredibly lucky, to have one so ambitious on his side, and at the same time, incredibly excited and nervous for the future.

"Um...," he began after hearing about his coming readings, "That's cool. I'm used to not being the lead... kinda happens often in porn."

He was taken a bit aback by her offering him anything--it didn't seem like her, but then again, he didn't know her. If that weren't bad enough, her ruthless suggestion of water caught him more off guard. He was coming to understand their relationship. She would help him accomplish her dreams, but at the same time, he had to help her out. He was her meal ticket after all. He sighed at the thought, the responsibility in addition to the residual pressure of the situation wearing him down.

"Okay...," he half-smiled, half-laughed. "Are you going to write me out a diet plan? That'll be much appreciated."

[tandt]

*TIMELOST

As if on cue, Edward’s phone would chime. Temperance had just texted him the diet plan he requested, along with a few other helpful tools of the trade.

In fact, the material he received continued to arrive on his phone in regular intervals, as it was far too much information for one message. Each time the jingle interrupted their conversation, Temperance would crack a faint smile; she obviously was eliciting a fair amount of enjoyment out of her own comical sense of timing.

“When you’ve finished both of your readings, call me. I might have more for you, but at the very least I need to report back to the ATA. We need to be kept abridged of your career.” She had now removed a notepad and ink pen from her purse and began transcribing something from her phone onto it. “These are the directions,” she stated. Why she wasn’t just texting them, he couldn’t be sure, but he needed to trust that she knew what she was doing.

“Be sure to arrive at least thirty minutes early to each reading.” She slid the paper across the table. “Among those texts was a list of skin care products. Purchase them and follow my directions step-by-step. Healthy, blemish-free skin is imperative, unless you have cancer or something, in which case they’ll have to be more PC about how they tell you ‘no’.”

Sighing, Temperance took another sip of her mocha and began reciting everything they had discussed in her head. “Do you have a vehicle of your own? You can’t rely on public transportation in this business. It's ruined more promising careers than game show appearances.”

[tou]

Edward tensed at the sound of his phone going off in the middle of their conversation, however, seeing her grin, he could already half tell the messages were coming from her, especially with the consistency of her well-timed facial expressions. Pulling his phone from the pockets of his shorts he scanned through the texts quickly, smirking at her alacrity in sending the diet plan. She really meant business. Like... really.

"Uh..., will do." he affirmed her, making sure his commitment to her and more so to working was acknowledged by her. It wouldn't be much of a problem, though she probably thought he operated on a late clock now that he was late to their first meeting .

"I do have a car, but it's being serviced... I actually have to pick it up tomorrow from the shop. It's only been this week that I've been operating off of public transportation."

He pushed himself back in his seat, mulling over the meal plan on his phone under the table, his fingers rolling over the pad ushering the display down, further into the document. He couldn't lie. She was thorough. And her skin regimen was nothing short of that as well. If he didn't become an actor, at least he could say he had clear skin. Maybe proactiv would take a liking to him.

He closed out of the display and returned the phone to his pocket, eyes jumping back up to Temperance who was sipping on her hot coffee. To pass the time, he thumbed the woody material of his hat awaiting her next demand amongst the myriad she apparently had.

"So, is there anything I need to know before I start going to reading and what not? Any substantial difference between this and what I was doing before?"

[tandt]

*TIMELOST

Setting her cup down, Temperance adjusted her position in the seat. Posh though this Starbucks was, it was still nothing more than a glorified fast food joint. The cushions were hardly what she would call comfortable.

“You’re asking if there is a difference between a major motion picture and porn?” She gave him a curious, almost disbelieving look. Was he really asking this? “Well, for starters, bad acting can get you replaced. I can’t say I’ve watched any of your —” she cleared her throat. “—Films, so I don’t know the measure of the man.”

She took another sip and then glanced down at her phone. After shuffling through a few more screens to verify that all the information she had transcribed was passed on, Temperance returned her mobile to her purse. “Suffice it to say, you’ll be required to step up your game. You can never be too good. If you’re not sure about your chances, I can schedule acting lessons.” She sighed, letting him know her disapproval for that course of action. Hopefully his response wouldn’t turn that proposed disapproval into actual disappointment.

“It’s a bit late in the game for that. This isn't a high school play. Even the simplest courtesy extended by a casting director costs someone money. If you're not up to par, I'll hear about it, and then my boss will chew my ass.

“He has high hopes for you, you know,” she informed. “Maybe he's a fan of your work.”

[tou]

He laughed. A good hearty laugh. His hands slapped against the table just so slightly as his other held onto his stomach, the flesh therein rising as he sporadically breathed in and out. It was a spectacle to say the least and perhaps even a little unprofessional, especially in the face of a firm woman such as this, but he couldn't help it. His wide grin fading, he breathed in sharply, blue eyes dashing back up to the woman, his sclera red from the small beads of liquid that evacuated them.

"I'm sorry," he coughed out, the laugh continuing to die as he progressed. "You--your face was just classic, though!" It was awkward. Laughing in his agents face like this. "I meant was a reading any different. As in--am I supposed to be reading these scripts any differently than I would I were being casted for... you know... one of those movies. Of course, I know that there's obvious differences between these two industries.

"I don't need acting lessons though," he said a bit more seriously though the lightness of laughter was still dancing gingerly along his speech. "I did a few productions at Northeastern. I only did that other stuff for money. Don't worry, Ms. Marshall," he stumbled a bit on thinking what exactly would be acceptable in addressing her, "I'll try my damndest to make sure your job is safe. That or you can poke my eye out. Hold me to it."

He'd loosened up, just from a small laugh, and while that choice was probably a little premature, he still felt a lot more comfortable around her, which, in the long run, would definitely be beneficial if they were to work together. At least in his opinion. Maybe she liked to be feared.

"Are you implying that your boss is gay...? Men aren't the focuses of the heterosexual movies...." he laughed ever so slightly.

---

notes: lmao!!

[tandt]

*TIMELOST

“He’s your boss too, you know,” she replied, a faint shadow of a smile lingering on her lips. “But no. I’m not implying that. At least I wouldn’t ever admit it in public.”

Temperance coughed dismissively and seized another drink.

“And I’m glad you’re taking this seriously, for both of our sake’s. You wouldn’t believe how many fresh-faced goons I’ve had to tolerate only to dump a week later. They think that just because you have an agent, you’ve hit the big times.” She pointed her mixing spoon at him. “Don’t make the same mistake, Ed. I’d like to see your name in lights.”

She polished off her drink then reestablished a stony countenance. She didn’t want to get buddy-buddy with a guy she had not only met less than ten minutes ago, but a client to boot. The healthiest and most profitable position she could be in is as a distant advisor to her ascending celebrity.

Not wanting to waste either of their time any further, Temperance yet again retrieved a piece of notepad paper and an ink pen from her purse and scribbled down a phone number and address. “Here,” she handed it too him. “That’s the name of a car dealership affiliated with ATA. Get there before five o’ clock and tell them I sent you. They’ll loan you any car off the lot free of charge.”

Temperance gathered up her things and stood up, flipping the empty cup into the nearby trash receptacle. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Tate. Remember, follow my instructions to the letter, and call me when your readings are over. I should have something else lined up by then.” She extended her hand once again, intending to end this exchange and go about her business.

[tou]

"Since you put it that way, I suppose he is something like a boss to me." he nodded, one eyebrow raised as he gave more thought to the relationship. As much as it was true however, he couldn't truly call anyone who was assuming the position of "boss" such without knowing them personally. It was just one of his things, and therefore his only boss was this one. Ms. Temperance Marshall.

He could see her relaxed composure regain its stony base, as if grasping hold of the somewhat funny woman he'd just so briefly conversed with. It would be too soon to say that he liked either better, but humans are prone to premature judgment, and Edward was no better. And so, his premature judgment was that the laughing part of Temperance was the best. The most human. The most social. As she regained her flat face, his mouth would remain curved up in a thin grin, his good mood shining through.

"Thanks," he nodded, taking the paper from her hands and looking down at it, soaking in the information. "I'll be sure to go there right away."

She was awfully generous, though, she probably didn't view it that way. Instead, she probably thought it was all part of the job, and perhaps, outside of Edward's mind, it was all part of the job, but from such an optimistic mind, it was nothing more than generosity. A desire to better Edward, even if for her own selfish purposes. He appreciated it, to say the least. And in ways, he admired her for lending him such great information and resources. It was far different than in the old industry. He felt like now, he wouldn't get shot up with Viagra and forced to perform. No, now he felt like he was seen as a person at the very least. Perhaps he was being a little too optimistic.

"Thanks for all your help," he placed his hand into her own, shaking it as he stood. "I really appreciate it."

He took his hat and placed it firmly atop his head, tucked his chair under the table and was on his way.