He glanced up from his phone to see Isabelle staring at him, her dark eyes fixed angrily at him. Sighing, he decided to ask, "What? What is it?" She waved her arms in the air and snatched his electronic device much to his dismay. Finally taking the situation seriously, he placed his elbows on the wooden table across from him.
"You have a movie audition. The director has his eyes on you. It'll be at four in the afternoon. You have to be there Jace." She launched his phone on the sofa he sat on. Turning his gaze back to her, he nodded slowly before explaining he was tired and needed to rest. A frown set on her face but she hugged him goodbye and left, softly shutting his door.
He was an actor. A notorious one to say the least. Though he figured people only admired him because of his appearance. Pursing his lips, he thought of calling Kaelie. Maybe she'd be free. He had insomnia. Sleeping was no option. He just lied to get Isabelle away from him. Sometimes he needed a break from the show business. Instead of phoning his ex, Jace decided to got out. Perhaps some fresh air would do. Grabbing a hoodie and changing the rest of his clothing to ones that were less noticeable, he released a breath and left the condo.
Rain drifted from the sky and drops fell upon his hood. He kept his head down. Afterall, that was what he had to do. He thought about getting a cup of coffee then thought better of it in case of further attention and just decided to walk the pavements of California. He heard the buzzings of cars, the screeches of buses, and the chats of people. Not really thinking as straight as he could, Jace didn't see the man in front of him until he had slammed into him. The man cursed, reaching for his phone and placing it near his ear. "It's alright Clare. Pretty big, yeah. The gig will start soon. No worries." He continued to speak and Jace apologized quietly but the man was already trudging past him.
Rolling his orbs, Jace walked back home. Back up the stairs. Back up the usual receptionist. Back up to try and sleep, knowing he would fail. Not bothering to remove or change his clothes, he collapsed onto his crisp bed, feeling the covers rumple and wrinkle. He stared at the ceiling and waited. Waited as the clock ticked and ticked. As it teetered and clicked to a different hour.
Not the expected life of an actor. But it was all he had.