ingridhvwk

[ingridhvwk]

two names, one ship: @sebastianxsteele

there is no term for the deep seated issue that ingrid has when it comes to forming romantic attachments. a childhood of no dates and less suitors has left her in unsteady in the department. so, of course the only man who could catch her eye— besides a stylishly dressed bobby cost, would be sebastian steele. she can't say what draws her to the still mysterious stranger (a keen observer has already noticed the similarities he might share with her favorite family member) but the attraction is there nonetheless. N

at least as much as she can communicate through her own particularly inarticulate way of discussing any thing that isn't her latest screenplay. and as much as he can reciprocate without giving away his only interest being destroying something naïve for the love of the game. the best part is that after years of ignoring rumors about her step-brother, she's already removed from all the channels that could tell her she's making a mistake. and, though it's far from his strong suit just the smallest bit of hope is enough to keep ingrid hooked. any time there's a lull in his entertainment, she'll be waiting in the wings for another glimpse of attention.

it's too bad she established her only boundary as simply “ keeping tommy in her life”, that could mean practically anything. the loving boyfriend will abide, but she'll learn a lesson lesson too. what a balanced match.

[ingridhvwk]

damion!

“Can’t say I would, but you’re running the show here. Have at it.” While they’re at it, maybe he could just go ahead and say the lines, too. Forget about the fact that he’d have to be a twenty-something from the sound of things, but if they could pull it off, more power to them. That wasn’t really the focal point, though. Ingrid was doing her best to motivate and inspire and do all the things a decent director should do, but it’s not making much of a dent. It’s not her fault. It just is the way it is, the way that it has been, the way that it has become. To feel safe seemed counterproductive at this point. “Yeah, I’m not planning on making any calls to OSHA.”

She smiles at him, and it falls heavy on his eyes, the weight building enough to drop them as he readjusts in his seat. Somewhere out there, maybe in one of those parallel universes, is that same kind of smile waiting for him. A look only a dad can get when he comes home from work. Hearing her say sorry just makes him tug on the hem of his shirt, a struggled sigh release, before his hand shakes. “Don’t sweat it.” He just wants to put the spotlight back on the scene, pull it back from being on things that should have never seen the light of day.

“Look, I like that take you have. You know, the one about appreciating what you have. Let’s roll with that and call it a day.” Make it easy. Make it quick. “Don’t you have clubs to get to or a skating rink after this? Something?”

his acceptance of her idea makes her beam, as though the sun has shone just in the spot where she happens to be standing. all missteps are forgotten the moment that they seem to be on the same page. there’s no need to acknowledge anything else; emotions that do not equate to happiness are shuttered quickly. don’t sweat it the equivalent of we are back to the best versions of ourselves. i like that take a beacon of goodness in the already good world. what more could she need when such optimism was so easy to find. 

“oh, that’s great!” the smile even brighter than before, an infectious happiness that seems to leak through every one of her cells. disappointment can’t be filtered through her brain, acknowledgement of her good ideas rights whatever lingering ills can remain. “i’ll call action as soon as you’re set!” she knows that every crew member is important. everyone wears name tags, herself included, so that each person is referred to by their chosen title not just ‘that guy’. but, she knows they wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the people brave enough to get in front of the camera, that they’re just a little bit more important while the camera is rolling. 

“the skating rink does lana del thurs-reys, but i haven’t had the time to go recently” the hard part of being a writer and director was that so much of the shooting day depended on her own opinion. and she had to have that right, she had to know the vision they were going for. people depended on her for that much, and she was always going to work hard to make sure it happened. “if you’re interested they do free rental skates if you can name their song clip of the day.

she motioned for the camera operator to get into place, the other members of the set starting to hush, realizing their conversation was coming to a close. een as she faded towards the chair labelled director, she still kept a chamred smile, the energy rolling off her. hopefully absorbed into the set’s ether. “i’d totally go if you were. rule one, never skate alone.” 

[ingridhvwk]

damion!

“Right. I think that ship sailed awhile ago,” he half-mumbled. Cal Remington probably had been on the job for longer than she had years on her life. Not that he was in a position to really say he was far off from that either, just not with a contract. For better or for worse, it seemed like he was impossible to off, always skirting by somehow. He couldn’t say he exactly envied that part, saved that up for the easy life he lived instead. “What are you, anyway? Just starting on your twenties?”

Awhile back, he might have had the chance to know all on his own. It struck him as a vague memory that his father could have had something to do with a Martin Hawkins, starring in some early production of his, but there was no way of asking the old man nowadays, not without a ouija board. Wouldn’t be his first choice, even if he welcomed one into his life. In the short company, it seemed like he was the one where its use was applicable.

“Is she a twin?” he finally asked, recognition coming in a haze. Ran into the pair of them, he thought. Not a sight he could really wash completely out of his memories; the mentioned competition the trigger point. “Can’t say I’d be able to pick her out of a line up, but… hotdog eating contest, huh. That’s great. Real great.” What said monumental feeling of loss more than a busted gut, right? Wasn’t really helping the cause of doing a good job here.

Care was slowly trickling out, replaced by numb exhaustion that sleep could never touch. What was the opposite of a zest for life? A shrug to the grim reaper? His shoulders were too heavy, elbow having to rest up atop the desk beside him while she gave her viewpoint. Preaching to the choir.

“Sure.” Could have left it at that. Maybe should have. Those shoulders found the energy to shrug, offering to sharpen the scythe himself. “For some people it’s more than a plot device. Just…”–eyes slipped to the script, not a combative type, never out for blood, only a sore point prodded at–“…to let you know, okay?” He glanced back at her after a sliver of eternity. “I’ve got it. Don’t think you need to give me any pointers on it.”

“almost half way through them!” she was chipper as she said it, as though there was no realization to be had in the fact that she had lived twenty-four years of her life with little in the way of worry or hardship. there was no meaning to the age, as there was no fear of the up coming ones. sometimes it was just that simple, she lived each day as well as she could. and surrounded by as many people as she could possibly have. 

“yeah it’s her and theo. i wanted him to work on this but we don’t really have any stunts so—” she shrugged, wished she could have written some in so that they had an excuse to have everyone together on the same set every once in a while. but there was, as always, more time for that in the future. “unless you’d like to request one!” the realities of her role as director dawned don her one more, that she was responsible for making everyone feel comfortable. there was nothing in the world she was better at, really. “i didn’t think it was necessary but you should always feel safe.”

the sentence is paired with a grin that’s so heartfelt and genuine, conveying everything that she couldn’t yet get the words in order for. the expression melted as she listened to him continue to talk, slipping from happiness to a tender sadness that she couldn’t hide even if she’d tried to. she was an open book of expressions, listening to him skate around the conversation topics that she was trying to tap into. “not method.” and he didn’t need her help, recoiling from advice, and she pulled back just as much, unwilling to accept an upset actor on her set. “sorry, i’m sorry. i didn’t know, i just wanted to—” it hasn’t caused a scene in the slightest, but she still treats him as gently as she thinks its possible. “can i get you a tea or anything to help?”

[ingridhvwk]

happy halloween 👻

attendees of mary astor’s halloween party are as follows:

Beth Walker went as Bliss Cavendar from Whip It

Ingrid Hawkins went as Daphne Reynolds from What a Girl Wants

Claudia Marshall went as Susy Hendrix from Wait Until Dark

Wynn Copeland went as Hans Beckert from M

Birdie Jennings went as Little Red Riding Hood

Sylvie Dewitt went as Lucy Ricardo from I Love Lucy

Mary Astor went as Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind

Clementine Fehr went as Fabian Bishop

Katie Wright went as Elle Woods from Legally Blonde 

Felix Hearst went as Rhett Butler from Gone with the Wind

Sarah Kinney went as Jenny from The Green Ribbon

Eloise Bardot went as Marie Antoinette 

Rowan Young went as Clark Kent

Chloe Miller went as Lydia Deetz from Beetlejuice

Nora Sawyer went as Hera

Emma Reeves did not attend

[ingridhvwk]

A new outtake of Zoey Deutch photographed by Magdalena Wosinska for Heroine Magazine

[ingridhvwk]

damion.

Damion stifled a dry laugh, made it evaporate in a tired sigh when he saw Ingrid was serious. There was even hope dancing in her eyes, a true-believer that Cal Remington was hard at work on her script. Oh, boy. Who was going to tell her? Apparently, not him. “Oh.” It was all he could genuinely offer, threw in a nod of the head to let it soak in. Not that any of it helped him, now. Back to square one. “Yeah, he’s…” he dragged in a breath by the ankles, kicking and screaming all the way down into his lungs, “one Hell of a guy.”

Great. Who else was there to palm off his script to? He stared down at it again, let the print sink into his eyes, taking the letters in one at a time. Somewhere between the lines was the answer, even when the director was intent on knowing it already. And how could he blame her with a tone like that? Hate to phone it in for someone like her, prodding with cajoling belief instead of whipping with immediate threat. “Thanks for that.” Yeah, thanks. He could feel the rope around his wrists, the cement blocks drying around his feet.

Back to the monologue, if it meant the only way out was through. Think of his person, like he was told to, with a hand at his head, fingers pressing as if corralling a migraine. /It just means that, even if someone dies, you’re still gonna keep learning about them./ Didn’t know he was going to therapy today. But was therapy supposed to sting this much? Like a dull dagger drawing circles around his chest? Was it meant to form a solid mass in the back of his throat? “I don’t–” He cleared it out, an audible disintegration as his head lifted, breath taken, lips wetting. “It’s not that. You’ve been a peach. Uhm…” Nose was brushed off with the back of his hand, a subtle scratch, a subtle means to keep it in check. “That friend you talked about with this,” he began again, gesturing with a raise of the script. “What’s their story? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a lot of dying going around in this thing. They’re good?”

“totally. he’s great.” everything in good humor and easy focus. she could not find a bad thing to say about the man that she’d given over her work to. “i feel like he’s been acting longer than i’ve been alive.” and wasn’t that all it took to gain her trust, the continuation of success. she wanted to believe in everyone, why shouldn’t someone who’s been in the industry that long get the same optimism. she trusted that it would turn out fine, an experiment in trying to be hands off, her focus on this script instead.

“oh sure— clementine fehr. have you met her? she was here for a little while last summer.” it seemed as though her friend blew in with the wind, an excited surprise that had a new focus each time. she did not keep up with news on the east coast, or news at all. but she liked writing, and she could direct, so when clem had mentioned what she’d been working on it was a no brainer to agree to help.  “she worked on hairspray i think." but the specifics of her career were lost, what she really knew was that clem was a good friend and a great person. and that alone deserved her best work. “anyways. she’s good, she’s so good! i think she was going to a competitive hot dog eating contest today.” one of those, i would drop by set if i could but...and she totally understood. life was to be lived. 

“the way i see it. it’s not really about death, i mean that part is too obvious.” it was right there in the title. people would go into it assuming that the girl would die, there was no surprise. so it had to be something else. a little bit softer, the message warmer. “it’s kind of more, appreciating what you have. what you had.” what could still be learned by simply standing in an empty bedroom and seeing if any new details jumped out from the pristine setting. “well, you know it happens a lot.”

[ingridhvwk]

BASICS—

full name: ingrid renee carmichael hawkins

birthday: june 20th (summer solstice baby!)

age: 24

zodiac sign: gemini

religion: catholic. at least her father is

religious level (1-10): 2

birthplace: napa valley, california

current residence: palos verdes, california

height: 5′4″

hair color: light brown

eye color: hazel

sexuality: biromantic

romantic preference: biromantic

relationship status: how would she know that

languages known: english, spanish

DETAILS—

car: pearl white tesla model x

phone: purple iphone 12 mini with clear mag safe case

music genres: soundcloud mixes, top pop, heavy indie 

wardrobe: reformation girl through and through

estimated net worth: $40 million independently, $500 million family combined

ransom value: now why would you kidnap a sweet girl like that

CONNECTIONS—

martin curtiz hawkins; father

jacqueline hermione carmichael roth; mother

hiram roth; step-father

cyrus roth; step-brother

thomas price; best friend

teagan harper hale, parent friend

LEVELS (1-10)—

drinking: 5 (always down for a good time!)

swearing: 3 (sometimes, but usually jokingly)

smoking status: 3 (when offered. at a party. after drinking)

drugs: 2 (also...when offered at a party)

cooking proficiency: 6 (her father is handing down a large array of italian recipes.)

intelligence: 7 (went to college! can direct a production! she’s got something going on)

emotional/social intelligence: 9 / 6 (yes they’re separate. she’s empathetic to a fault so she’ll always reach for the emotion, but her social perspective is very warped)

creativity: 8 (writer, director, creator of madison sparrow, she’s got this)

temper: 2 (never angry, sometimes sad)

[ingridhvwk]

damion.

It was different from a Santiago production. For starters, Damion felt like he could call Ingrid by her first name without making it weird. Secondly, he had his hands on the script, rereading it before his take, while she was… sympathizing? Was that the word? Felt unusual. He slowly lifted his eyes from the words to her hovering form, kind gaze on him while he looked back with a stricken sense of confusion.

“Yeah, okay.” Then after a belated second, tacked on, “thanks.” It wasn’t her fault that the goal here had been to crash and burn. He had made the smart move of throwing out as many points as he could for as many projects as he could. The chances were non-existent for him to win anything, and yet here he was as if God just wanted throw in that extra dash of suffering for good measure. He had barely glossed over the script when it was given to him, absorbing none of it, but then Ingrid had to be like this. Makes it hard on a guy to destroy something that clearly had someone on the team that cared. Again, thanks a lot, God. Good one.

So, there he was. Reading. Again. But for real this time. Trying to. Her question threw him off, cutting his reading down right after learning that his character’s father had died. He didn’t have any idea what she meant, and he may have been titled as actor, but his training had been in art design, not creating a good enough poker face to show that he wasn’t following. Good thing she elaborated. Well. Good was relative.

About that bad poker face… he frowned back, tried to correct it a little too late. “Something like that.” He counted five. Mom, dad, daughter, wife, and then friend. In that order. He took in a deep breath, leaned back, trying to create distance between them without being obvious about it. Still on the fence with all this. His hand reached behind his neck, rubbing at it, eyes darting off to the side, exit sign in bright red letters before finally struggling to return to her.

“Look,” he started off as earnestly as he could give, “you’re really going places with all this. Ten out of ten on the tear-jerker scale, but it’s not too late to trade me out. I’ll even help you find my replacement.” Make it sound good. It’s not her, it’s you type of vibe. “Yeah, you know who’d be good on this? Cal Remington. I know that guy’s not busy doing anything.”

“cal? he’s busy.” the name was plucked from people she’d spoken to recently. everyone in hollywood was her friend, but there were some people who she’d worked with just a little bit more. “he’s directing my script.” a little trade off, she’d written everything but the music for la la land and sent it away to someone who could put the finishing touches on it. and from there, she’d decided to let it be free, see where it went when she let other people get their hands on her work. and that left her with the time for this. “not that— no, he’s so great. don’t get me wrong. i just know he’s doing alright.” 

distracted from the primary target for just a minute longer. she could feel the hesitation, and that was okay. it was a lot of emotion to ask in a small span of time, although she was hoping for something a little more subdued in the performance. that was okay, she could wait a little while. they had almost twenty minutes before they were considered behind. “i’m not doing it for me. my friend wrote this script. i just really want to show her what i can do.” she knew clem would be happy no matter what the outcome was, but she still wanted to try. dedication to the actors meant just as must as the crew. “besides, i  don’t want a replacement. i think you can do it.”

she didn’t even know how to go about requesting such a thing, forever steering clear of anything that had to do with a contract negotiation. let alone having to step anywhere near the cancellation department. even now, she had little interest in knowing what went on there, who had taken the place of her brother. it seemed no one was apt to fill such a void in her life. “just think of your person, you don’t have to tell me. well i mean you can—” she wasn’t yet sure the boundaries that damion killgrave had put up. and she existed so long without any of her own, a spilling aura, and bleeding open heart for anyone who might pass by. it was hard to tell, she tried to be understanding. “do you really not want to work with us?”

[ingridhvwk]

[ingridhvwk]

@damionxkillgrave

"if you need a minute, you know you can just ask. always, just ask." ingrid was infallible. even more so since this was not her speech. it was far from hers. it was first and foremost for clementine fehr, her friend. who had written it, and written so much more emotion into it than she could have imagined. she was never one for taking credit, especially not when attributing it correctly could mean so much. her friend was a writer. she was maybe a writer, maybe a director, could never take full credit for either. she worked with actors. and that mattered equally as much. clem; this person that she loved and admired, who was proof that life existed beyond whatever she thought it could hold. because life was beyond her, it was beyond what she knew. she was trying to learn, she was trying to be kind enough to let anything unfold.

it was only up to damion killgrave to deliver. and she would give the space to let that happen. "i know it's a lot." the kind of speech that made her tear up just from reading, if done right it could secure awards in its two minute run time. she was not unware what she had, that did not mean she must be callous. how else could one process the loss of a friend, of something more, if not with kindness to guide it. "have you ever had that?" she had. it might have been the opposite, some dark black pit where people screamed into the void to show her how evil the world could be. it wasn't the case. she could emerge from it and know time and time again there was someone who held her close. someone who appreciated and loved her and knew the every porous point to be filled. it made offering the same to others infinitely easier.

"the person who you knew better than anyone else?" she knew her answer then. and she knew it again. and she knew it again over. what did damion have that was a fact. what did he have that made him rest his elbows on his knees and realized that life could indeed keep unfloding. it was all she needed. just for one moment. she knew it was a lot. she knew it was possible because she wanted to offer it again and again and again until cyrus accepted it. until—. "i know it's a lot. i can't imagine losing him. my closest friend. and i don't expect you to get close. but for a moment, for her speech. could you try?"

[ingridhvwk]

ingrid hawkins & tommy price as bill and ted

they’re having an excellent adventure not a bogus journey this time around! the filmmaking stunner and her muse have taken time away from this season’s most anticipated comedy to make an appearance at the most star-studded halloween party this side of the time zone. in their 80s thrifted best the two have decided that no conversation can be complete without the phrase most excellent thrown in at the end of it. and maybe a shot of vodka. the jury is still out on whether or not the elusive bobby cost and his muse madison sparrow will be rocking anything similar at the set that supposed to start at midnight at the newly purchased cost mansion. 

[ingridhvwk]

tomas.

Þomas lightly rocked back from the playful jab in the shoulder, a smile lingered on his face but his mind fast ahead pulling out the pie charts of why it’s a bad idea. But he didn’t want to be a worried downer, especially on a set where he didn’t even belonged to. “I know.. and I have recipes even, to fill it up I just..” he gestured the air incoherently, “it’s just a lot on the plate right now.” Right now, next month, forever, same thing. He’s already made a slew of excuses to Eve for the past year, even years back when they first met in Paris. The same pitiful excuses, that she probably just pretends to buy. “I think only some will agree with you on that,” Tomas absolutely reads cookbooks for fun, but he wasn’t sure who else actually. “How bout I just make you a book made of pastries instead?”

“sure, sure.” she nodded along with the reasoning he gave. really what it boiled down to was inspiration. people were either struck with it, or it would be an uphill journey. she didn’t write a script she didn’t love. she wouldn’t have gone so far for game night if she didn’t care about what she was doing. cookbooks had to be much the same. “i don’t cook, honestly.” she did the occasional pasta dish when the mood struck, helped her dad with a dinner or two. it was never much of a thought, there was usually a chef around, or catering on the set. “but i’d love to take a look! what do you have? what would your favorite be? the gold star recipe.”

[ingridhvwk]

simon.

“Look, you’re the one that’s not getting it,” he threw back at her as strong as his voice could come off as. It was hard when the taste of bile clung heavily to his tongue and the threat of adding another layer of it was felt in the back of his throat. His water was taken to his lips, one big solid gulp to wash it away. “Put me in, coach. I’ve got this. It’s like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a fucking drunk. What’s up with your generation? Is it just adderall or bust with you guys?” Of course, that wasn’t all of it. But it was going to be good enough. He wasn’t going to take the ride home, and he was determined not to leave this set without being dragged out. “…sorry,” he mumbled after a long moment.

it must have been the startled expression on her face that finally pushed forward an apology. she was used to the joking, the set was light, and she encouraged plenty of improv. she trusted her friends, she knew they would do nothing to harm the movie. but never under these kind of circumstances. “it’s okay. you’re not feeling well, and i really—” she hated using her authority in any meaningful way. of course she had final say on her set, but she wished everything felt like a unanimous decision. this clearly wasn’t going to go that way. “i would feel a lot better if you went home and rested. we can shoot all your scenes tomorrow, it’s okay.”

[ingridhvwk]

cora.

“Of course, Ingrid,” she spoke with a tenderness, feather-light kindness that stroked at all the insecurities. “You’re doing everything you can. You’ll see this is for the best. I trust Sylvie to be a stepping stone to his recovery. Given how Simon is, forcing a doctor on him will only do more harm than good.” The words sounded truthful, a gateway to a brighter future for all, and indeed it was; a brighter future for Prometheus. “If you need to recast his role, I’ll let Henri know.”

“no that’s fine.” there was some thought, buried deep in her subconscious, that she should stay away from henri olivier whenever possible. and for something like this, it seemed too much. “i don’t want to put the crew through that many reshoots.” if it had been necessary, she knew that they would have all put in their work, but she wanted to have faith in her choices. so many of them worked out for the best. “i was trying to tell him, i think the role could work with limited scenes. i only need him for another week.” and then he could get the help he needed. that’s what the company was there for, to help support.

[ingridhvwk]

teagan.

teagan had taken the liberty of moving in with simon to keep an eye on him, deciding it would be better to ask for forgiveness than permission–as fucking lame as that sounded. they were in the process of moving from their old room to the new, stopping in the hall as another contract passed, giving them a cheeky grin. teagan wasn’t really sure what that was about–until they turned back to look at their suitcase and realized part of a strap-on was peeking out from a tear in the bag. “uhhahaaaa… fuck me.” they laughed nervously, kneeling to shove it back into place before realizing the tear was a lot bigger than what they’d thought, and had likely left a trail of belongings along their path. they shoved hair out of their face, letting out a breath of annoyance as they prepared to backtrack to their old room. “really? we’re just, we’re gonna keep fucking me in the ass, life? i mean, even after you got mom involved last time?” teagan asked bitterly, not realizing they weren’t alone.

they opened their mouth, then closed it. a sigh of exasperation. “okay, to clarify my last comment my mom punched me in the face on live television and i had an emotional outburst and tried to kill us and two other people in the room. it had nothing to do with, like, actual fucking.. just… a matter of speech..” teagan nodded, pointing a thumb in the direction they’d come from. “i’m just gonna go now.” 

“no—don’t!” ingrid was all sweet concern, wandering the halls lost while she followed the trail of belongings that had started at teagan’s room. what she assumed was teagan’s room. she could have gotten it mixed up. she knew the past few months hadn’t been especially kind to her friend, but she was determined to add to the good, not the bad. there was no reason to remind them of everything, especially when it seemed to be just under the surface. “‘i need you!” she held up the scene that she was in the process of blocking, really just a jumbled mess of papers from a distance. she’d come to rely on the comedians in her cast to help with the time of things. to write it was one thing, to see it delivered with perfect timing, that was the magic.

“but first, should we grab those?” she pointed to the trail of loose clothing, “i couldn’t figure out which direction you were moving.”

[ingridhvwk]

cora.

It was only a matter of time before Fate called upon another of her children, their destiny coming within sight, unveiling itself to her in its own way. The moment Ingrid’s voice wrapped around the name she had already felt a pull towards, there was a divine alignment. Her head nodded slowly, sympathetically, encouragingly, rich with understanding, much more than her young director could ever comprehend. “Oh, dear,” she spoke softly before lips frowned. “I wish I could say it was more uncommon, but you have to listen to your instincts, Ingrid. If you think he needs help, I trust you to let him have the time for it. Sylvie can see him.” She paused, letting that sink in before continuing, broaching the worst case for her. “We can always find another Brooks, but there is only one Simon, just like there’s only one Thomas and one Teagan.”

she nodded along with the words, feeling the comfort in them. she’d felt so unsure, telling him to go home, to wait until he felt better. rewriting the script, reblocking scenes. but it made so much sense, to know that she was making the decision that was right for him. “i just don’t know what’s wrong.” she could list symptoms, but at the end of the day she and simon weren’t friends. she only overstepped boundaries out of concern. “if he’s really sick he should see a doctor, not just hr, you know?” but she could always agree that there was only one simon, and she trusted the company to do what was best for him. “i don’t want him to think i’m punishing him, but he really shouldn’t be working.”

[ingridhvwk]

tommy.

“word.” tommy nodded in acknowledgment, a grin following suit. ingrid was really into the whole thing and it made him be into it too. not that it was hard, half the time he felt like he was just bullshitting around with his best friend. but, like, totally in a professional way. her next suggestion caught him off guard. “woah woah woah.” tommy took two steps back with his hands in the air, “are you serious?” his widened eyes gave away his shock. he felt tingly all over, buzzing even. it was something dumb and small but who cared, for tommy it was freaking awesome. he composed himself by dropping his hands and taking a deep, shoulder raising sigh. the next question was obvious to him. “what if i fuck it up?”

“am i serious? who else would i want to ask!” she laughed, the shock in his expression setting off sparks in her vision, tiny golden twinkles she swore she could see dancing around him. he’d given so much to be a part of this production, taken the gamble with her, and she wanted to pay him back. giving him a small token, an outlet for him. “you’re not going to fuck it up. i know you.” and she did—intuitively, easier than looking inside herself. they came out of everything still together, and she was still grateful, paying him back in any way she could think of. “i mean come on, it’ll be a great time.” she already had a backlog of all his work, and while she could ask a composer to mimic the style, why would she bother if tommy was down for it? “and you’ll have an excuse to be in the editing suite with me.”