We Move Lightly
Beck/Jade
Prologue
In a normal day, the average person passes by hundreds to thousands of people, and that number simply increases in a city the size of LA. Sometimes the two people awkwardly lock eyes. Sometimes the two will even take the time to nod in acknowledgment at the other person. Most of the time, these encounters are chalked up to coincidence and never thought of again, having no real relevance to the lives of these different humans. But on occasion, one of these chance meetings just happens to surpass coincidence and take on real relevance, permanently reshaping the lives of two seemingly random strangers.
Jade West, student at Hollywood College of the Arts, was one of the many pedestrians hustling down Wilshire that fateful afternoon. She was determined to finally get a semi-comfortable booth at her favorite sushi restaurant, and, as far as she was concerned, the other people hustling down Wilshire were simply hindrances in her mission. She'd never been much for empathy, anyway; she had ambition unmatched by anyone except possibly Lady Macbeth, and perhaps that was why playing the great Lady on the stage had been a dream of hers since the beginning of her Theater career.
Therefore, her response to bumping into another individual was scarcely socially acceptable. True to character, she let out a few choice words that probably made long-dead priests quake in their graves before glancing up and meeting a pair of brown eyes that reminded her of her old puppy and, accordingly, seemed almost out of place on the twenty-something-year-old man in front of her.
"Sorry about that," he said apologetically, not quite the response she had expected. She'd thought perhaps he would have given her a few choice words in return and been on his merry way, but never in a million years had she expected him to apologize. Where in the world is this guy from? She thought to herself. Certainly he had no clue how things were done in LA. She opened her mouth to voice a quick apology for her foul mouth and move on, but he interrupted, fixing her with a thoughtful stare before inquiring, "Hey, do you happen to go to Hollywood College of the Arts? I feel as though I've seen you before somewhere."
One of Jade's eyebrows went up in disbelief. Certainly, she thought, if she'd met this guy before, she would have remembered. He had this aura about him that was unique, a quiet confidence, subtly calling attention to himself without being conceited. During her time in LA, Jade had made quite the habit of observing people, but even so this guy was unlike anyone she had ever observed – unnecessarily polite, silently observant, unobtrusively assured. "I do, actually," she responded, not viciously for once in her life. "Do you? I don't remember having seen you around campus, and I know practically everyone."
The young man in front of her simply chuckled, as if he was somehow amused by her assertiveness – which, needless to say, was not the typical reaction she evoked from males. He seemed to think for a second before he spoke, also, telling her, "I actually don't. I'm somewhat of a freelance actor, if you can believe it, and yes, I do in fact make enough money to support myself. I definitely recognize you, though. Are you in theater, maybe?"
Her eyes widened in surprise: first because of his offhanded comment about making enough money to support himself, not something typically said to a virtual stranger, and second because it was rare for her to be recognized through her theater work. With a nod, she told him, "Yes, I am, actually. You're into theater?"
"I've dropped in to view a few productions here and there," the young man said sheepishly. "I actually found them to be rather enjoyable. You're very talented, if you don't mind my saying so."
She felt her heart rate speed up, and she thought that if he was trying to pick her up he was doing a rather good job. Most of the time young males tended to cut to the chase, complimenting her on her body or her looks rather than on her acting, which she prided in the most. But she was determined to keep herself collected, and so she responded with a simple, "Thank you. Most people don't appreciate theater as they should."
"I'll be on my way, then," the man said, sounding almost nervous, like somehow knowing who she was – a simple student actress – had shaken his seemingly impenetrable confidence. "But I hope to see you around. I'll definitely be attending more of your shows, at least." He gave her a genuine-seeming smile, and when he did so her life practically flashed before her eyes. God he was a rather nice looking individual, she allowed herself to think.
And before she could stop herself, she blurted, "I don't think I caught your name."
He turned back around, fixing her with a slightly confused stare that slowly turned into another genuine smile, one that reached his overly wide brown eyes and brightened his whole countenance, from his lopsided grin to his soothing voice. "Beck Oliver," he told her, holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you. Or whatever."
For some reason, Jade felt her normal, bitter response fading away, the usual venom infused in her tone dissolving. Something about Beck made her feel more relaxed; something about Beck made her want to be better. So she held out her hand and told him, "I'm Jade West, and it's fairly nice to meet you too. Or whatever."
The warm, heartfelt laugh that Beck produced in response made her heart lighter, and she felt herself almost smiling as she gazed upon the eccentric young actor. "I'd be forever honored if you'd let me have your number," he informed her sincerely. "We could meet up sometime and discuss the time-honored tradition of the theater and the disgusting trials of freelance acting, if you're up for it."
"Why not," Jade replied dryly, letting her lips curve up into an amused smile. And so Jade West, the perfectionist Theater major who scarcely spoke a word out of line and despised almost every single human being at her college, wrote her number in Sharpie on the arm of a guy she'd only just met. That one crazy decision on her part would forever affect her life – or, at least, her life for the next few years.
And it is there, ladies and gentlemen, that the real story begins.
A/N: Cute movie + desire to write a character-driven fic= this.
Also don't worry. I have the plot for this fully mapped out and half of the next chapter of Maelstrom written, so s'all good.
It took a lot of time and effort just to write this prologue – might be the perfectionist in me – so reviews are very much appreciated and will be replied to! This story is one I'm putting a lot of effort into as far as writing style goes, so I hope you guys enjoy. Definitely let me know what you think.
Title creds to a song of the same name from the Like Crazy soundtrack.