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It was standing by the car that her eyes kept a close glance upon Trace and refused to look away while her ears were listening to the Director, the man who took a chance on the misguided yet ever so fascinating, talented Actress.
Not only was Emily known for her rom coms, but she was also known in playing parts of the infamous television series American Horror Story. Playing the seductive, sex driven mad, blood sucking; The Countess of the Hotel Cortez.
It was not something she was exactly famous for, but it was that season that got her big break and was noticed.
Shifting her gaze from the big hot shot actor man, Emily sighed, still listening to Steven, finally getting a proper authentic smile upon hearing a party was happening at the Villa he had rented for the 3 full month's they were in Africa.
Sex was the consolation one had when one couldn't find love.
Lust was just the same.
Both of those things Emily had in spades.
She loved sex and she could only lust over. There was no such thing as love. Emily found that out the moment her Father walked out when she was the age of 7, as well as her two marriages that failed and ended in divorce.
Emily could not love.
As the speech was over, Emily turned her body and opened the car door, shifting inside one leg at a time before shutting door closed - staying put on the seat.
She did not want to look at him again, at least not right now and if fate would allow, they wouldn't meet again until the movie, but that was not going to happen.
Upon reaching the Penthouse in the hotel, Emily endured a most wonderful shower of warmth - letting water again, like in the morning soak her body only for now, her hand trailed down the front and gave herself a nice little touch, all the while thinking about the man who she as not fond of.
Getting out, wiping herself down clean after exfoliating, it was with a make up team and a stylist that Emily Winthorpe was tanned up, lotioned and made up.
Her long golden hair curled in the same way where it was brushed out, creating the "Hollywood" wave.
Face painted with make up made to look natural, bronzed but with a statement lip, showing off that famous mouth.
Her body tanned up - given that shimmering glow while being covered by a dress that was body con and tight.
Thin spaghetti straps.
A black mini dress with a single slit in the fabric on her left thigh. A dress that showed off those legs with all the while, her feet being shown with thinly strapped heels.
Sitting down by the mirror upon a stook where on a table - make up and jewels were laid, Emily reached forward and uncapped a bottle of perfume oil.
Sweet, intoxicating scent.
Dabbing the oil on the inside of her wrists, and behind her ears, Emily looked at herself in the mirror and kept gaze at the mess her personal life had become by the reflection.
Yet, he couldn't help herself.
On a small, steel platter rested a slight mini mountain of white powder that as quickly cut into lines and Emily lent down with a rolled up American dollar bill and snorted up the line.
Leaning back, sucking in more through her nose - Emily stared at the ceiling with her mouth open, sighing as the euphoria started to seep in.
It was nice, the drug, it was too nice to keep in the room and it was placing it in a small tin container that once containing mints, that she placed it into her purse and stood up, leaving the room and began her travel to the Villa.
It was only a 10 minute ride.
Wiping her nose once more after taking another line in the backseat, Emily closed her purse and exited the car.
Being escorted to where the party was happening, the Actress smiled as she wandered in being shown outside where people stood around, talking with one another, laughing with one another - simply enjoying company.
[b "Oh yes, please..."] she replied, lifting a hand and gripped a glass that was filled with champagne.
[+red "Emily, my dear, you look ravishing.."] Steve called out as she left the people he was speaking too and approached the Actress.
An actress who hardly wore nothing.
It was true, she was almost naked underneath the dress. She only wore a thin thong that was made of the finest lace.
[+red "And you smell, just lovely. Jennifer, Justin - id like you to meet Emily Winthorpe..."]
Emily continued to smile, shaking hands, making herself known but it was talking to the guests that her eyes landed on her leading man.
Trace Andrews, looking incredibly beautiful.
All sharp and dapper in the suit, with a tie she slowly wanted to undo along with the buttons - removing them one at a time only for her to see what was under the fabric.
If it was what she thought in her mind, Trace had no chance.
She would ravish his body and fuck that man until the sun woke up.
Raising the glass, Emily took a sip of the champagne as she continued to look his way, completely hating him but completely enamoured, enchanted by him.
[i Come and get me...]
Trace watched those hands go from her ass to motioning towards the set as if she had done nothing wrong. In an instant, Trace snapped back from his dirty thoughts of bending the woman over and having his way with her. [i I need a cold shower...] Trace thought as he gritted his teeth.
He'd done his own research on this woman as soon as she made her claim to fame. Trace wasn't buying it. She was too.. unqualified for where she had gotten in her career. Everyone loved her, but Trace just had to find that one flaw about her that would make him sleep better at night. It was like she just woke up one day and became a movie star when he worked his ass off from grade school to get to where he was. That was when he'd uncovered the little secrets about her... that her manicured hand was always either wrapped around a bottle of gin or a penis. Either or she wasn't all innocence and the definition of romance. There was one thing he knew for sure... This woman knew how to make a man pay attention to her.
Trace did everything he could to look away, scoffing to himself as she spent her sweet little time admiring the set and ignoring him. Trace knew he was a big deal. Travis set him up with all the interviews, auditions, and podcast sessions that he could take. It helped that the women raved over him although he was married to a gorgeous brunette that was a successful businesswoman in her own right. It seemed like he had it all together, and people were gravitated towards him and his British charm for some reason that had him always landing roles. This one would send him over the top as he hoped to join the conversation of who was the best Bond of all time. However, he did NOT want Emily Winthorpe to be his Bond girl, no matter how much he felt a natural attraction to her.
Somehow this woman still managed to get paid more than he did for cheesy chick-flicks and romcoms. She was the American dream to so many little girls, some even dressing up as her for Halloween. Little did they know she was a bitch on the inside. Trace was about to find some excuse to leave when he noticed the blonde bombshell walking his way. [i What more could you say blondie?]
Trace didn't leave though. He stood planted firmly in the ground. She was gonna have to try a lot harder than that to make him back down. John, her agent, seemed to try and warn her to back down, but the witchy woman herself lifted her hand as if to wave him off and put a muzzle on her puppy dog that ran errands for her. Trace just crossed his arms, trying another approach with the woman as she spoke. He just listened, saying nothing for a while.
[#169c34 "I have heard about those movies, however I am not interested in watching an Indiana Jones, John Wayne knock off. A bit of advice, handsome...be original. Maybe then..youll get to where I am.."] He only grinned, listening to the smaller woman run her mouth off at him. This could be a lot more interesting than he originally thought... to think up ways to drive her insane and attempt to get her to quit the movie itself. [#169c34 "I don't think this is the role for you 007. I'd opt out."] She spoke as if he was instantly going to fall under her spell and say yes like a mind control zombie. She even added a little irresistible bite to her lip. [i How cute.]
Trace just watched as her agent came up to do the damage repair that he was most likely used to with his bratty client of his. He'd mutter some fake compliment about how talented Trace was and how he was a fan. Trace would just wait for the right moment, calling out nonchalantly, [b "Nice to know you think I'm handsome. Sounds like more reason to stay a while, Bond girl. Oh and Cinderella? Tell your agent I can get him an autograph for when I hit it big and jump to your level after this movie... since he knows who I am and all."] He joked, grinning as he didn't turn to look at her. Her agent was too busy dragging her away before they could get into more of a fight. Trace just stepped away, laughing to himself. [i Time for that cold shower...]
Trace would do just that, stepping into a icy cold shower to get ready for the Director's party at a gorgeous Villa for his top notch celebrities and the kickoff of his new movie. Trace wanted to make a statement. He left another simple voicemail to his wife, without much thought to it. It was just a way to check in with her... tell her he was okay. He would then fish out a black, expensive suit from his closet. He matched them with shiny black shoes that matched the whole suit that fit him just perfectly and slightly bulged at his toned muscle underneath. Trace spritzed a few shots of his evergreen cologne and combed through his dark black hair, adjusting his tie and suit before having Travis drive him in a Mercedes Benz off to the Villa address.
Trace stepped out with his large frame, making his way to the picturesque Villa that overlooked golden fields and was sitting just on the perfect spot for the sunset to melt over its frame like butter. It was breathtaking, and it was just the mood the director wanted to set. Trace stepped inside after assuring he looked sharp, giving a firm handshake to the director, [b "This is gorgeous Steve... you've outdone yourself."] Trace would kindly take a glass of wine as a server came by, sipping the smooth liquid as he was turned to look out over a glass view of the outside. [b "What a view... I've always told myself when I retire from acting or just get a few more minutes of alone time that I'd buy some house in the mountains or on the beach with a sunset view like this one. A man can dream can't he?"] Trace would laugh wholeheartedly and clink glasses with the man then drink and stare out in silence a moment, saved from the obnoxious voice of a certain Goldilocks.
When one tries to seduce anyone, don't do it with talk, with words. Women know more about words than men ever will. And they know how little they can ever possibly mean.
In life, people tend to wait for good things to come to them. And by waiting, they miss out. Usually, what you wish for doesn't fall in your lap; it falls somewhere nearby, and you have to recognize it, stand up, and put in the time and work it takes to get to it. This isn't because the universe is cruel. It's because the universe is smart. It has its own cat-string theory and knows we don't appreciate things that fall into our laps.
Emily was a master seducer.
She knew men like the back of her hand and the buttons they had. Her fingers would press them - taunt them and tease them.
One had to be cruel to be kind.
Be mean, keep them keen as it was often said and in this case, she wanted the married British man with an infinity for action to be keen.
Shifting both hands from her tiny waist - arms reached out in front of herself simply motioning the house and how alike it was to the era they were about to step it.
It was simply remarkable.
The set designers did an amazing job however all the while she was complimenting the fine work of the workers, all her ears could hear was the voice of a man who seemed to be quite annoyed that Emily had just brushed him off like he was nothing.
Yes, Enily knew full well who he was.
There were times while laying in a fresh warm bubblr bath she would open a magazine and read the interveiws that were jotted down.
No matter where she went, Trace Andrews was everywhere. From the TV, to magazines, too even youtube where his greatest moments were edited in montage from fans - videos of dedication.
There was even one time where late at night and feeling aroused that Emily did put hands on herself and thought about him - climaxing moments later.
He didnt need to know that.
Besides knowing her rep off camera, it was while pointing out the fine detail of the woodwork that she though if saw her everywhere as she was..well....everywhere.
Highest paid actress of 2018.
Now in 2019, her new year was starting and this movie...was to send her way through.
Listening to his words, Emily rolled her eyes and turned around- excusing herself from Steven and John and begun to walk back to Trace with that smile.
John shook his head.
[+red "Emily...."] John spoke as his eyes watched Emily raise a hand and waved him off as to saying..everything was under control.
[b "I have heard about those movies, however I am not interested in watching an Indiana Jones, John Wayne knock off. A bit of advice, handsome...be original. Maybe then..youll get to where I am.."] she replied, removing the sunglass once more from her face and stared upon the man that she so desperatly wanted ravage.
John placed a hand upon his forehead and sighed as himself and Steven heard the words that she spoke.
[b "I dont think this role is for you, 007. Id opt out..."] she muttered, finally becoming quiet only to bite that lower lip that wanted to be kissed.
[+green "Mr Andrews, what Emily was meant to say that you have too much talent to be starring in a film such as this."] John retorted as he grabbed the Actresses hand and began to walk away with a smile, Emily in tow. [+green "Big fan, by the way.."]
A nervous laugh escaped his throat as they both along with the PA approached the Lexus car.
John stared at Emily.
[b "A big fan? ...why dont you represent him..then? Him..mentioning all his films..rubbing it in my face. What the fuck?"]
[+green "Emily..one of these days ..that mouth will get you into trouble. You need to pick fights wisely. Thats Trace Andrews. He is powerful and man about town. Dont fucking blow this. After last night...you owe me..."]
He was right.
After the abuse he copped last night..she was sorry and then she nodded in agreement.
She had to be nice.
John walked off leaving Emily behind as he was too frustrated to be near her.
It was then the PA took out a vial of white powder and the two entered the car quick.
On the fold out arm rest in the interior - Emily did a line before taking a swig of wine from the bottle that was hidden under the seat.
Girl was always prepared.
The PA didnt help the destructive nature.
Getting out moments later - wiping nose a little more, it was there that the Director mentioned the movie to begin in 2 days.
However tonight, he would be throwing a party at his Villa he rented for the two biggest Celebrities that he managed to get a hold of.
Standing by the car, Emily glanced at Trace, anger welling inside her body along with desperately wanting.
She needed him.
It was undenyable.
Emily was enchanted.
Emily was the first to pull her hand away from his as if it were a hot stovetop that gave her third degree burns. Trace raised an eyebrow in surprise, returning his larger hand to his side. [i Oh really now... is this how you want to play Winthorpe? Well two can play at that game.] Trace was thinking as the woman spoke for the first time, as nonchalant as her entrance. She didn't care that they had to wait for her. She was going to take her sweet little time stuffing her ass in those jeans before she could make her way down to the cast meeting. [i Yeah, what a worthy pick for film sweetheart America...] Trace watched as Emily lifted her sunglasses almost prudishly, looking him over with those emerald eyes. She was beautiful... and a bitch at the same time that was. Then she uttered those 8 words that made his blood boil and figurative steam come out of his ears.
[#22d30d "Funny, I haven't heard a thing about you.."] Trace's yes almost popped out of his head. His nails dug into his palms, and Trace was obviously breathing heavier. She did NOT just say that... Did she? Trace must have been daydreaming or something because there was no way in hell that she didn't know who he was. He was an action movie star, and he was definitely renowned for it. He'd been in several blockbuster hits... He was on interviews. He was a popular figure albeit much less than her fame. At least he didn't bang every woman he saw like some man on a conquest. Trace blinked again, stunned like a taser hit him straight in the chest at high voltage.
The woman was so much smaller than he, but she packed a punch in ways to make up for it. As the PA got closer, Trace opened his mouth to utter a word, but he was speechless a moment in both anger and shock. Trace searched his mind for the perfect retort. There was no way in hell Emily Winthorpe would win this little verbal battle if it was up to him. The little vixen beat him to speaking after her PA whispered something in her ear that Trace was sure was about him. What the hell was this? Seventh grade? They were keeping [i secrets and talking behind his back? What the hell?]
[#22d30d "Oh yes, of course. You are the new 007, a role that seems to obtain a change of Actor after 2 or 3 films. Just like Dr Who. Not the best franchise to be in..."] Trace felt a bit of fire stirring in his belly and erupting up to his eyes and lips. He met Emily's eyes with that same anger, not looking away as she seemed unfazed and steady. As soon as she walked, Trace turned in a huff and called after her in his deep British accent.
[b "You have to have heard of me... Sunset Shootout? Temple of Tranquility 1, 2, and 3. Hell the remake of Tombstone? Do you live under a rock? And James Bond is a coveted role by any male actor out there."] He spoke, but she didn't seem to care as she sauntered over to the director and kissed his ass with those plump lips of hers. She was driving him crazy by pushing every little button he had. Trace was fuming, but he had to follow after her a bit. This was his job after all.. He had to be a professional, didn't he? Well, she certainly wasn't. [i I can fight fire with fire too, princess.] Trace glared directly at Emily as she turned her bitchy face and lowered her sunglasses as if satisfied that she yanked his chain. Trace shook his head, biting his bottom lip and taking a few more deep breaths. He couldn't break the rules of society and hit a woman could he? Hell he wanted to so bad...
Trace didn't take his eyes off the figure of the woman in front of him, still trying to comprehend what she'd said to him and her petty backwards look. She had an attitude... a HUGE attitude. Emily had all the spunk of a punk rock star packed in a small body. [i How did I know this was going to be a nightmare?]
Then, Trace's eyes bulged again but for a different reason. Emily placed her hand quite obviously on the back of her upper thigh and ran it up her body as if to accentuate her features and her tight ass. The jeans fit her just right in all the places it mattered. Trace could feel his pants tightening a bit. His mind raced with dirty thoughts of what he could do with this woman... how he could teach her to listen. Why was he thinking this way? He was married... and he also really disliked this woman. [i But she does have a killer ass...]
We've all at some point in our life encountered that feeling of secretly liking someone, secretly having your eyes on them, secretly wishing they knew, but deep inside you were afraid of what the outcome would be. So you kept it unnoticed. Kept it hidden, locked inside, just hoping that maybe one day that moment would finally come when they would notice you.
Liking someone doesn't mean you have to be lovers, sometimes you just have to be friends - but Emily could feel somewhat disregard when it came to Trace.
She was good at picking people, understanding them; however this man had an aura about him that he was simply unimpressed by this girl being his leading lady.
It was her intuition.
That - and also her Agent gave her clear warning that Mr Andrews wasn't too sure on the Directors choice.
Why is it so embarrassing to admit you like someone? It should be a compliment to them, and even if they don't like you back, they should at least commend you on your refined taste.
Trace had arrived to the set right on time.
Who was he trying to impress? - he got the job and he as still continuing to kiss ass?
[+red "Trace... come here and meet your opposite for the remainder of filming... Miss Emily Winthorpe. She's quite lovely if I say so myself."] Steve spoke, standing by the Actress as he motioned for the newest Bond to come on over to introduce himself.
Approached came a man who was a decent 6'2 tall.
A man who did secretly take her breath away and for a split second, make her think the most naughtiest of thoughts.
Trace was the epitome of handsome and through the lens of her glasses, basked in all of his glory.
Keeping her stand on the ground, Emily didn't move; letting Trace do all the work in standing up on two feet that sauntered him over to the woman with the golden blonde hair.
A hand stretched out, his hand that wanted to form a connection and a shake, to which Emily obliged.
[i "I've heard a lot about you Emily."] Trace spoke the moment both of their hands came together - palm against palm and together they shook.
Emily could feel the strength in the grasp for a single moment before she was the one to pull back, breaking it off.
[b" Really?.."] she replied as her lips parted to make her voice known. Hand reached up and it was her thumb and index finger that pinched the arm of the sunglasses and pulled back - removing them from the bridge of her nose, showing off that face and the eyes so emerald and deep.
Freckles upon her face no longer hidden by the restrictions of make up.
[b "Funny, I haven't heard a thing about you..."] again Emily spoke, keeping her hues upon the man who towered over the 5'6 woman.
It was in that moment, the PA got a little closer to the Actress and whispered in her ear.
Of course she knew who Trace was, but she was not about to be nice to the man who didn't want her here. The Assistant whispered words, nothing relating to Mr Andrews but the two played it off as it it had.
[b "Oh yes, of course. You are the new 007, a role that seems to obtain a change of Actor after 2 or 3 films. Just like Dr Who. Not the best franchise to be in..."] she muttered, raising an eyebrow - keeping her stare steady at the most intoxicating man she had ever seen before breaking gaze and stepped right past him.
[b "Steven, the set looks amazing!...'] Emily called out as she wandered towards the Director and as she walked, she did turn her head and looked at Trace who remained behind, putting on her sunglasses.
A bitch with attitude.
Standing beside the man who took a chance on her, Emily's hands moved behind and began to slide them up the side/behind her upper thigh, up her tight ass in the washed out jeans and rested upon her hips as she and the Director continued to talk.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Trace had been speaking with Travis and the director on set for while, simply waiting on Emily to arrive. [i She's late... typical.] Travis thought to himself, taking a sip of the silver tumbler that held simple ice water. He wasn't one to shy away from alcohol, but Trace would refrain from it when he had a job to do. However, this role may require the dashing actor to replace the water in his cup for a little vodka... or a lot. Trace was snapped out of his rather unhappy thoughts by the director's voice.
[#c1060c "So Trace you have experience riding horses you said?"] Trace nodded, running a hand through his dark black hair. He was an action star, known for his intense and fast-paced fight scenes or car chases. The movie they'd be acting in was set in the early 1900's, so there would most certainly involve a few horse riding scenes, relating to the question by the director, Steve. He'd been around a while, and he definitely knew what he was talking about.
[b "Yes sir. I trained for about three months when I was cast in Sunset Shootout."] Trace spoke with a deep voice, always laced with a heavy British accent that most women found sexy. Steve's face lit up as he clapped his hands together, [#c1060c "Wonderful... I assumed your action film background would serve us well. Miss Winthorpe may be needing some assistance with her horse riding skills, but I'm sure you wouldn't mind giving her hand."] Trace sent a look to Travis as though saying he'd rather not, but he just hid his emotions in another long sip of the ice cool water. [i Only way in hell I'll do that is if she falls on her pretty little ass all day... that could be entertaining.]
Trace lifted up his pullover jacket sleeve, checking the time on his Apple watch. How did he know she'd cut it close? He was wearing a pair of distressed and dark denim jeans, a deep blue pullover with a zip and a white t-shirt underneath and a pair of brown cowboy boots. He carried around his usual scent of pine and evergreen with the cologne and shampoo he used, having taken a shower as soon as he woke up. Trace lifted his deep brown eyes back to Steve, about to speak up against Emily when the devil herself clicked up in her heeled shoes.
Trace sat back, bringing a hand to his chin and looking her up and down. She was certainly a sight to behold... no matter how fucked up her life was. Her hair was long and blonde, framing her slender face. She wore light makeup, just enough to accentuate her large eyes and pouty lips. Trace's eyes went to the intentional cleavage she showed off and the sight of her ass in those jeans... Well, that would be the reason why she always had her legs open. It wouldn't be easy for a guy to decline her if she was taking her clothes off and begging for him. She definitely didn't earn his respect one bit, other than flaunting her womanly figure. She was going to be useless... absolutely useless. Trace watched the blonde woman hug Steve the director, rolling his eyes behind another long, intentional sip of his drink.
Trace was no dummy. He knew how much America loved their little golden blonde sweetheart behind the movie screen. [i How the hell does this woman have so many damn fans?] Trace thought, knowing all too well about her habits. He was surprised the woman didn't offer the director an alcoholic drink as soon as she came up. Hell, he was surprised she wasn't drunk off her ass and stumbling her way to them. The day was young though. No guarantees she wouldn't be in a few hours, accompanied by a man to escort her to her hotel room and break her bed. Trace wanted this to be over and quickly.
Trace watched the actress walk back behind Steve, wishing to stay where he sat. His plan was foiled with just a few words, [#c1060c "Trace... come here and meet your opposite for the remainder of filming... Miss Emily Winthorpe. She's quite lovely if I say so myself."] The older man smiled with those dimples and wrinkles spread over his face, still holding signs of being a handsome man in his prime.
Trace sucked in a huge breath and stood heavily to his feet, standing tall before the woman. He worked out often, having to keep his abs and muscles toned for any role that would have him take his shirt off for an extended period of time. His figure would show just that, and his handshake would reflect his strength just as much. Trace stuck out a hand that went against everything he wanted to do in that moment, but he wasn't a flat out ass... all the time that is. [b "I've heard a lot about you Emily."] It was all he said, and his eyes showed distaste and frustration at having been paired with such an imbecile of an actress as he looked down into hers.
Emily was a poorly wired circuit.
She got jealous at times.
Became completely overzealous but when she hit rock bottom, there was no where left to fall.
Anger she got most of the time as drinking made her irritable, but over the course of it all, she learned real quickly to fight through the boiling of her blood and maintained being a lady.
Sure, there were times she was drunk on set and did do scenes with alcohol in her system but she handled it well, some didnt notice.
Perhaps she truely was an actress after all.
Emily could love just like that, with a snap of fingers but she could leave just as fast.
Over the coming 3 weeks; before production started, Emily and her Agent along with others made their trip too Africa to start on some of the training she had to do.
One needed to be prepared.
Riding a horse - was one of the talents she needed to obtain; as well as being fitted for the proper attire of the 1930's.
Leaning about coffee and plantation information along with the machinery they used.
That was a bore and she made it known.
During the day, the intoxicating actress with the long golden blonde hair and eyes that of deep emerald acted professional and did what she was told - taking small swigs of alcohol in the trailer when she waited.
It was what she was being paid the big bucks for, right?
At night, at the hotel, one would be lying when they said nothing happened.
Emily would have a man, resting inbetween her legs, messing up the sheets - trying to pleasure her in ways she never thought she would ever feel.
When alone, she would enjoy the drink, often getting into fights with John to which he took the belting she gave him.
She had issues.
All she wanted...was love.
Amazingly, when she woke up the following morning that left the horror act of her insane ways behind, Emily was fine.
Body now being used to the drink, it was within a quick moment in the hotel room that America's sweetheart actress had a shower to cleanse her past sins...only to give a clean canvas to create new ones.
Palms resting upon the glass, forehead with her eyes closed did just the same as she closed the lids - letting the warm drops of water soak into her body only to hydrate that skin so smooth that longed for a touch.
Her heart ached for love and company.
Washing clean, smelling of the sweetest vanilla and wild orchid, Emily turned off the water supply and stepped out, drying down and wrapped the thick cotton towel around her naked frame.
Wandering out into the room, a squeel of shock escaped her throat before placing her hand upon chest that now had a fast beating heart.
[b "Damnit, John!.... Don't do that..."]
[+green "Sorry, Em.."]
Sighing as she lowered her hand, Emily sauntered over to the closet and grabbed the clothes her PA chose for the Actress to wear for that day.
While in the walk in robe, words left to enter John's ears.
[b "I'm sorry about last night. Usually I dont remember what I did to you..but this time I do. I didn't hurt you when I pushed you, did I?.."] she spoke softly as the towel flung out towards the bed.
In the closet, Emily got dressed.
Underwear that of silk on both items.
A pair of tight denim jeans that were ripped at the knees along with a
little slit upon her thigh.
A white shirt that she tied up at the bottom of the hem so it would remain around her waist tight.
Buttons undone to show off a little clevage.
Hair down in loose curls that were brushed out to waves.
A face natural, no make up beside the mascaa to make her eyes look more open and wider and lipgloss to keep her signature pouty mouth moisturized.
[+green "Don't worry about last night. It's in the past. We need to focus on today and the cast meeting. You'll be meeting Trace Andrews today, along with the production staff an other cast members.."]
[b "Oh good. I look forward to this..."] she replied, stepping out - motioning to John on how she looked.
[+green "Beautiful as always. Emily, please...best behaviour.."]
[b "Always..right?.."] again she spoke, wandering to the bar fridge and grabbed a little glass of gin.
Sunglasses grabbed tight, the two exited the room, John sighing about the gin and left hotel - got into a car that waited and travelled to the set.
Upon arrival, Emily took the drink - downed it quick, pushed open the door and let one long leg out. Heeled boots upon her dainty feet.
One leg out, foot on the ground before the other and stood up before stepping away from the car.
It was walking towards the crowd that her hips swayed as she walked - placing the sunglasses upon the bridge of her nose and looked out through the lens.
[+red "Ah...Emily! Great too see you again..."] The Director spoke as she ushered from Trace Andrews and his posse only to greet Emily with open arms.
Smiling that signature smile - her hair flowing in the breeze, Emily wrapped her arms around the older man in greeting for a moment before letting go, hands on his shoulders.
[b "Pleasure is all mine, Steve.."] she spoke to him before following him back over to the crowd he left to greet her.
There, her eyes stared upon him.
The man of the hour.
An eyebrow raised.
[i My my my ....] her mind spoke.
Alot more ... enchanting in reality he was.
Trace aced his audition. He knew it the instant the last string of words left his accented tongue. The lines on the page after page of the long script seemed to come naturally to Trace as they rolled off his lips like a low wave against the shore. He was confident that he'd landed the role as soon as he set the stack of papers down on the table in front of him, letting his fingers rest on the smooth wood. Trace lifted his dark brown eyes to look at his agent both calm and collected. Trace's agent, a young and spirited man by the name of Travis, was one of his closest friends. They spent a lot of time together reviewing scripts and preparing for interviews and the like, so Trace knew when he'd bagged an audition simply from looking at his face. This was one of those times... It was a matter of time before the Director would approve him for the role, and they'd be on their way to Africa to make a damn good movie with him as the leading male.
Trace's roots lay in action primarily, sprinkled with the lighter themes of drama, mystery, and romance. He was the traditional meaning of tall, dark, and handsome. Trace stood over six feet tall, sported jet black locks and a stubbly beard, and had the acting chops to boot. He found it rather easy to nab roles. Trace was rather popular with women in the movies he found himself starring in. Travis had to filter through love note after love note in the mail, tossing just as many as came in or replying with something generic to up his client's reputation. Trace was rather successful, and he liked it that way. He knew that he was good at what he did, and he studied for every role he got, no matter how small. Trace did his research. He took the business seriously enough to find it valuable. If he were to play a character, Trace would have to first become that person. Acting was about reinventing yourself to become what the script, director, and even crowd asked. It was similar to a rebirth of sense, and the best of actors slid into their roles with the greatest of ease as if they popped out of the womb the same way.
[i "Well Mr. Andrews... I believe you are a perfect match for our female lead. She was picked just earlier, and I must say I am pleased you decided to audition. We may have just found what we were looking for."]The director spoke as he pushed his glasses further up his nose, reviewing some papers that looked like they had been written all over in black ink. Trace showed a small smile, running a hand through his dark hair, [b "Good to hear sir. Who is this talented actress that I am to be working alongside?"] Trace was asking out of curiosity mostly. He wanted to know this woman that the director seemed to rave over. Was he working with someone in the forefront of film? Trace got his hopes up until Travis spoke up with the name of his next coworker.
[#c1060c "Emily Winthorpe. You've heard of her I'm sure?"]
[b "Emily Winthorpe? There is no chance in hell I'd catch myself working with her... she won't take this role seriously. Director sir, I would certainly look into another..."] Trace rose his voice as he spoke, driven mad just at the thought of the idiot woman he'd have to be delighted with for the next few months of filming. Travis swooped in to shut his friend and client up before they lost the part. [#c1060c "What he meant to say is that he'd be willing to take the challenge... Trace will exceed all your expectations I assure you."]
Trace sent a frustrated glare towards Travis, but he kept his mouth shut. Emily Winthorpe was a scandalous starlet and nothing more. She warmed her bed with as many men as possible, and he'd heard rumors of her drinking on set to an excessive amount. The woman was too immature for a role like this.. well, any role. Travis knew her for her roles in romance movies... well, that certainly fit. She could just find more men to open her legs to. Travis already detested this woman, and he hadn't even met her. Hell, he didn't need to. [b "With all due respect, Emily Winthorpe wouldn't know how to act in an action movie if it bit her in the ass."] Trace would say, not aware as to how repetitive it sounded to the director as Emily had uttered similar words just hours before. The director broke into a slight grin, [i "I'm not going back on my offer Mr. Andrews. I know you'd be an asset to this movie that I desperately want on my screen."]
Trace took another heavy sigh, playing with his wedding band on his left hand. He wouldn't dare turn down the role. It was seemingly made for him... and Emily Winthorpe was NOT going to mess that up, no matter how much trouble she made. [b "You're right... It will be an honor working for you. See you in Africa then."] Travis said with that trademark smile of his and a wink, heading out for a drink immediately after. He'd need some throughout the whole trip to get through each interaction with the woman, and that would be a lot of damn alcohol.
Trace called his wife, Lydia, leaving a voicemail when she didn't pick up. He'd already sent for Travis to gather his clothes and have them sent to Africa. It was part of the job as an actor that Trace wouldn't have much time to see his wife. Their time was spent mostly in Facetime or Skype or just voices through the phone. Both Trace and Lydia were busy people, and Trace didn't think twice about waiting to see her before he boarded a plane. It was normal for him and her... nothing out of the ordinary. The only new thing as he'd be going to Africa in the scorching hot sun and having to babysit an actress he had no care for.
Trace could pull this off with flying colors... maybe even work towards a nomination for a film award at the end of the year. On the other hand, Emily was destined to maintain her hot mess status. The job was going to be a form of hell. At least Trace was somewhat invested in the script, and he was getting paid a hell of a lot for the screenplay. Trace digitally signed his contract and was on his way to Africa, donning clothes to provide comfort in the hot sun. The set was just as magnificent as the script, and Trace spent a moment just taking it all in before he felt a tap on his shoulder.
[#c1060c "We're ready for a cast meeting before we start filming. Let's get going."] Travis' voice echoed into Trace's ears, and he turned his head. [b "Time to get this party started my man."] He clapped his agent's back in a friendly manner as a grin spread across his lips. He strode off towards the small clearing made for actor meetings, catching sight of none other than little miss bitch as soon as he got there. Then, his huge grin faded.
It was with a flick of her wrist that a script, filled with pages of words that were carefully thought out along with actions that were chosen by the writers; landed dead set in the centre of the mahogany round table.
Emily sat upon a cushioned chair and kept quiet. Eyes glancing at her Agent to stood on the opposite side along with the Director who made sure this role, was written just for her.
He knew about her life behind the camera.
He knew about the drinking, the constant coming and goings of men who were only there for comfort and nothing more, but he also knew what kind of effect Emily had the moment she was behind the screen.
She was epitome of beauty, grace, talent.
The camera loved her.
The critics loved her.
[+green "So? What do you think?..."] John spoke. John, being her Agent, never gave up on Emily. An older man, the girl was like a daughter and took care of her despite putting him through hell with the poor judgements she made.
[+red "There is still work to be done, but you can see what we are going for..."] the Director spoke as he took a seat.
[b "It's good. It does need a little tweeking but I think it has potential. It's well written, I'd love to do it..."] Emily spoke, turning the chair with a swing of her hips and reached into her purse, pulling out a small bottle of gin to which she opened up, hearing the click of the safety lock. [b "So, who is opposite?.."]
The Director who was well known in his own right, kept his eyes on Emily as she took off the lid to the bottle and raised up, downing the gin, emptying it with three gulps.
Only silence for a few second before sighing, Emily completely obvlious to it all.
It was then he spoke the same of her new leading man.
A man who was tall, handsome as hell, British and who had a flare for action as he was the new and held the name of James Bond.
[b "You're joking right? ... He is a action star, he wouldn't know romance even if it bit him in the ass.."]
[+green "He, like many stars are open to new genres..."]
[b "It's like me going into action movies. It doesnt fit..."]
[+red "I think youd be good at it..."]
[b "You, John...have to say that. It's what I pay you for..."]
Over a while of debating, Emily was made to think twice about her opinion and several valid points were made.
It came to an end where a pen rested inbetween her fingers and a scribble was marked on the contract.
3 months would be spent in Africa.
[i "The aristocratic Karen Blixen travels to Africa to join her husband, Brorl who spends their money on a coffee plantation, instead of a dairy farm. After discovering Bror is unfaithful, Karen develops feelings for hunter Denys but realizes he prefers a simplistic lifestyle compared to her upper class background. The two continue on until a series of events force Karen to choose between her love and personal growth."] - that was the story.
Romance and Drama.
Emily could easily pull this off, but the man ? .... he had no hope...
Filming was due to start in 3 weeks time.
3 weeks went fast and before Emily knew it, she set foot on the set that was built with wonderous precision.
The heat radiating from the African sun.
She hadn't met her new leading hand yet and truth be told, she wasn't looking forward too.
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