So I'm back from my writer's block. Finally, right? I probably lost so many watchers and fans because of my sluggish updates. Between summer homework and get-togethers, I just can't find the time to sit down and actually hammer out a few chapters for my story. Hence I am back from the "dead" with an update! *cue noisemakers and confetti* Now if you don't mind, I shall actually start on my other stories~ Enjoy please~
"There he is!" the man laughed, motioning over to the Englishman ,"Mr. Arthur Kirkland, the next big Hollywood director!"
The Englishman beamed, nodding to the group of people huddled by his 'boss' ,"A-Ah good day. Please sir, I am humbled".
"Oh don't be so modest, Arthur!" the man threw an arm around the blond-haired man, guiding him over to the desk to retrieve a cigar from a small drawer ,"For you".
"Oh no thank you sir, I really-" the object was stuck into his mouth, cutting off his decline.
"Now now Arthur, we're celebrating you! Come on, let loose for a bit!" the man chuckled, handing the Englishman a glass of spirits promptly before lighting the cigar hanging loosely from his lips.
The blond-haired man inhaled for a while, taking in the bittersweet aroma of the lit cigar. Out he breathed a long cloud of smoke, allowing it to linger onto his jacket. He set the cigar on the large ashtray resting on his boss' desk, raising the glass of the cool amber liquid to his lips, followed by a hesitant sniff. Whiskey. He took a small sip, surprised by the strong taste of it mingling with the smoky essence of the cigar. Definitely whiskey; and not the cheap kind.
He forgot the perks that came with being a big-time Hollywood director. Aside for the workload of editing, filming, and dealing with the drama of the actors, it paid off at the end; exclusive parties that would serve only the finest of foods and the best of alcohols that would compliment one's palette perfectly. This one moment of glory that he can relive with a simple glass of whiskey and a cigar was enough to recall a flood of nostalgia to overwhelm him.
"Oh Arthur", the man snapped the Englishman out of his reminiscing ,"I'd like for you to meet your new producer that you will be working with".
The tall man walked over to the door, turning the brass knob and letting the tall door swing open. A young man stepped into the room. He looked as if he were in his early twenties-much younger than Arthur. It was almost as if her were glowing. The young man's eyes were the second thing that he noticed; there was a flame within the sapphire irises. Somehow, the young man reminded the Englishman of his youthful years when he first dove into the filming business-so anxious and excited.
A flame that could not be extinguished. He used to have that flame; the inferno that would lick at his emerald irises. A flame that was long gone, replaced by emptiness. Where has it gone?
He watched as the young man strolled over to him, sticking out his hand and flashing a toothy grin ,"Name's Alfred F. Jones".
The Englishman returned the gesture, nodding his head ,"Arthur Kirkland. A pleasure".
The young man pulled his hand away, running a hand through his untamed, dirty-blond hair ,"Of course I know who you are! My folks watched a ton of your movies".
"Have they now?" the Englishman replied, not surprised with his comment. No one this young have ever seen a clip or two from his movies, let alone a whisper of any of his titles.
"This is just so unbelievable! I'm standing in front of my parent's favorite movie directors! And I'm producing your next hit!" Alfred grinned, chuckling ,"Hey, do you mind if you could give me an autograph or something for my folks?"
"Erm... Sure. I guess..." Arthur shut his eyes for a moment, letting out a long breath.
"Great! Hey, you think you could go over some of my ideas for the movie?" the young man excitedly asked, pulling out a small black book from his briefcase.
"Well, I already have a few ideas for th-" he was cut off and the dirty-blond haired man stuck the notebook right under his nose, urging him to take them. He sighed in defeat, taking them ,"I supposed I cloud glance over them..."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Kirkland!" the young man gushed, grinning again ,"It was nice meeting you finally!"
"Quite." Arthur nodded, walking to the door ,"It's about time for me to leave. Good evening, everyone".
His 'boss' waved from his tall desk, taking a small sip from his glass ,"Thank you Arthur. A good evening to you too! Be sure to call if anything comes up!"
The Englishman curtly nodded ,"I will". He strolled out of the office building, making his way to the stop. He sat down on a vacant bench, looking down at the cover of the book handed to him by Alfred. Hesitantly, he opened it, trying to make out the scribbles on the sheets of lined paper.
"Explosions? Girls in inappropriate clothing? Cars driving off bridges? What in the hell...?" the blond haired man continued to read, appalled by the lists of things that would appeal to only a younger audience.
He shut the book, stuffing it into his case ,"Good God, I wouldn't be caught dead filming something involving these kinds of things..."
The Englishman glanced up at the usually-gloomy sky, letting out a frustrated sigh ,"Rain. Again".
Just then, the small bus arrived at the stop, its doors creaking open. Arthur promptly picked up his case, stepping into the vehicle. As he glanced out the window, he realized that his movie was no longer his. It would no longer be the style that he would usually film in. He would have to strive to appeal to a younger audience from now on.