An interview with BC.

Chapter 1.

It was the last day of work before my 3 week vacation, when my good friend Jane stopped me right before I went home.

"Hey, Kim. I wanted to ask you something." , she said.

I slowly turned to her and sighed. "What is it this time? Can't I just have one little moment alone in this house?"

Jane smirked, took a file out of her bag and handed it to me. "Marvin and I have decided to celebrate our anniversary tonight. But the problem is, I have this interview to do with an actor and if I do it, I'll miss the dinner. Would you please help me out?"

While shaking my head I took a look at the file. It was a sheet of paper with a couple of questions on it, about a movie called 'The Hobbit'.

What on earth is a freaking Hobbit? I asked myself and flew over the next page.

"I didn't even see the movie Jane? How am I supposed to interview an actor who played in it? Did you really think that through?" I asked.

Jane ruffled with her fingers through her dark brown bangs and a big smile grew on her face.

"I did give you a summery about the film. It is quite interesting though. The interview is at 10 o'clock tomorrow, till then you have enough time to watch the film and go through the questions."

she replied and hugged me tightly. "Thanks a lot Kim. I see you around. Have a great vacation." And as fast as she had arrived, she vanished before I could say anything.

I fell into my new purple bed sheets and closed my eyes for a minute. What have I gotten myself into? My exhausted body could have been anywhere by now, but to my sorrow I'd let Jane talk me into this interview. It's not that I'm not interested into movies or the business, I just can't stand these pretty, arrogant, self-centered actors, who think they could change the world with one eye blink. During my carrier in the magazine I've got the pleasure to meet a lot of, that one would call, famous people. Some just didn't talk to me at all and some tried to hit on me without any decency.

As I flicked trough the pages, Jane gave me, I just couldn't find out who I would interview. And as I tried to reach her, she didn't answer my calls or text messages. I turned over to the side, placed the file on the bedside table and got under the blanket. For a couple of minutes I would just try to get some sleep and after that I'd watch the movie, to prepare myself for ….

"Good morning New York. This is Bryan, it is 9 o'clock and you're listening to Radio 311. This next song is dedicated to all the people who got the chance to sleep until now, wake up guys!"

…

…...

"Holy S***!"

I looked on the alarm clock. 9Am it said. "I'm so screwed."

Quickly I pushed the sheets back and ran into the bathroom. If I wouldn't eat breakfast I could probably get there on time. The hot water running over my skin felt good, I washed my hair, my body and brushed my teeth. I threw on something nice, to at least look presentable and left the house with my handbag.

A could autumn's breeze gave me the shivers and on my way to the subway station I opened my hair so it could give it some volume. The train was extremely empty for this time in the morning, there were a couple of clerks and some teenagers who had their hats pulled deep in their face, while listening to some music.

The doors opened with a creaky sound and I quickly stepped outside. On the street I ran two blocks and finally arrived at the hotel, the actor stayed in. There were 10 minutes left for me to be there, so I looked around and spotted a ladies room at the end of the main hall. Opening the door, I stepped in and checked on my hair and applied some make-up. Ready to go, I left the restrooms and walked up the stairs to the conference room we were supposed to meet in. I opened the door and looked around. There was nobody in there, so I sat down and waited. I waited for 10 minutes, then 20 minutes and after half an hour I stood up and slammed the door behind me.

Why? Was this a joke? I'm spending my time on an actor, who can't even appear to his own interview. I was furious and flew down the stairs to the main hall. Angrily I sat down in a lounge chair beside a man who was reading a newspaper. He finished with one layer and put it down on the small glass table in front of us. I turned to him and pulled a fake smile: "Are you finished with that piece?"

The man looked at me surprised and nodded slowly. "Would you mind?" I asked formally.

His hand made a small gesture from the table to me and he turned away again.

I slowly bended forwards and grabbed the paper. . "Not a man of many words." I whispered to myself.

The man let out a sigh and folded his newspaper in his lap. "Can I help you with anything, Miss?"

"Oh, he can speak." I replied ironically.

Immediately as I spoke the words, he turned his whole body towards mine. "Do you have a problem, Miss?" He still asked politely. I was so annoyed from the morning and the stupid interview that I pushed a bit more. "Yes, I actually do. I have a huge problem with people who think that they're something better just because they appear in a so cold blockbuster about a little man and his little hairy friends, chasing a stupid dragon. And this so called 'actor' doesn't even has the mettle to appear on his own interview." As I finished my little soliloquy the men looked angry.

"Maybe it is a good movie." he replied. I shook my head. "Dear god, it is a movie about a 'hobbit'. And this guy is not even 'playing' the role. He just synchronized the dragon and nothing else."

"So you've seen the movie?" the man asked. I turned to him: "Oh I didn't have to. I tell you, it's not worth it."

He smirked. "But how can you judge an actor, if you haven't even seen the movie he plays in?" The man raised from his seat.

"What do you want from me? Do you want to tell me how I have to do my job?" I replied irritated and raised with him. He opened a button of his shirt and frowned. "I'm just telling you that you could be a bit more tolerant in the position that you're in. I'm sure that this guy put a lot of work into this film and you're just devaluing it because it is not your taste."

"Oh, excuse me. I don't care what you think. Because you're not the right person to tell." I whispered angrily.

His voice dropped. "Maybe not. Or maybe you're not the right person to judge."

I gasped, he only stood inches away from me and looked at me with a pitying stare. What was wrong with this guy? In this moment I could've ripped him into shreds, when suddenly an older man coughed and we both looked at him. It was Mike, my boss from the magazine.

"There you are Kim. We were searching you the whole time. Where have you been?" he asked.

I frowned. "We?"

And I thought I was dreaming, when Mike pointed at the man standing in front of me. "Yes, we. As I can see you've already met Mr. Benedict Cumberbatch. The actor you were supposed to interview?"