Disclaimer: I own the plot. Ally C owns the characters. I don't know who owns Brangelina, Zefron or Clooney, but I still own the plot. And I really don't think George is that hot.
The Conversation;
Grant Quinnly had a good life. He was rich, famous, and very popular with the ladies. Especially those with foreign accents and long legs.
But the latter of those three things is what got him into trouble with Joe. And Abby. And you really didn't want to be in trouble with either one of them – which is why Grant Quinnly was in deep shit when both his publicist and his manager decided to have a chat. But with Abby and Joe, it was never just a chat. Grant knew this because the first words out of their mouths were: "You need a girl."
"A girl?" Grant laughed. "What are you talking about?"
"Kid, you're a prostitute." Abby was the first to break it to him.
Although, Joe was willing to get in on the action. "Maybe a stripper."
"Okay, you two have gone… to, like, shit land or something. Maybe it's all this sexual frustration that you're holding in or the pent up-"
"No, Quinnly," Abby told him, cutting him off. "In the eyes of the paparazzi, you seem like a playboy. And, really, we were trying to tell you nicely because at least strippers and prostitutes get paid for what you do."
"So," Grant said slowly, "you're telling me I should change my career?"
"No, these days, porn stars are looked down on – I meant that figuratively, not literally. But, I guess you could take it like that, too." Joe blushed.
"Well, literally or figuratively, you seem like a whore," Abby told him, point blank.
"A man-whore," Joe soothed, smiling weakly.
Grant looked between the two of them. "Okay, are you insulting me? Because I should know if you're insulting me."
"Grant, I am your manager, and Abby is your publicist and what we're trying to say is that-"
"You need a girl," Abby finished.
Joe nodded, "The Girl. You know, one you can take to all the movie premieres? Because taking a different blonde chick-"
"Or those Brangelina brunettes-" Abby put in.
"-is a little slutty."
"So what you're saying," Grant confirmed, "is that I have to find a girlfriend? Easy. Done."
"No, kid," at this point, Abby was getting a little annoyed, "you need to find a girl you like. A girl the paps will see you with. A girl you'd kiss on the cheek. A girl you'd pull out a chair for or open the car door for or-"
Grant held his hands up, "Whoa, wait a second! I will not become that vampire kid. I'm not that gay that I'd start sparkling! So what if my hair looks coiffed? Zach Efron's hair looks coiffed."
"You need a girl who you could see yourself falling in love with," Abby finished.
"What?"
"Oh, and you have a year to do it," Joe pointed out.
"Joe, I'm fully booked for the next year!"
"Yeah, four movies, kid. Do the whole… I fell in love with my co-star crap. Media'll love that." Abby raised her eyebrows at Grant. "So?"
"So what? This is fucked up. I'm not doing it." Grant shook his head and almost made it out the door before he was pulled back by Solomon. "Come on, Solomon, you know this is fucked up."
"The only thing fucked up is your image."
"Nothing is wrong with my image. George Clooney-"
"Is hot. He also doesn't get caught on tape with his flavor of the week," Abby explained.
"Grant, you don't have a choice. You have until all four of your movies are done. Happy hunting." And with that, Grant was pushed out the door.
"Hey! That's my room!" Grant banged on the closed door, then tried jangling the knob. "You'd better not be doing anything kinky in there!"
He sighed and started walking away, but not before muttering, "I hope to God they don't find those hand cuffs."
Check mate: So, first chapter? It was originally supposed to be the first take, but then I decided that I needed to get the conversation in first, even if it is mini-skirt short. I owe Malli/WeirdButAwesome a huge hug 'cause she edited this, like, super-power fast. Review?
