Chapter 10 already… wow is all I can say

I have many other ideas for stories, and I have this one that I plan on doing… but idk when I should… maybe I should wait till I finish this story. Then again, I am itching to show a new story of mine. I may let it out….

Chapter 10

I throw my head back and let out a loud laugh.

In front of me, Four stands in a brown striped shirt that seemingly was to small and short, with a black blazer and the same color dress pants. He seems to overdressed, and was definitely not dressed in his style.

"Oh, shut up, Tris. You look as bad as me." He remarks.

I continued to laugh, my cheeks turning red. It's true, I do look pretty bad. I was dressed in a baby-blue blazer with a white blouse and baby blue long skirt. I looked officially weird, and not myself, just like Four did in front of me. My hair was pulled back with black clips to top it all of.

"Are you going to let me in and stop laughing?" Four says with faint annoyance. The corners of his lips are turned up a bit, making him smirk.

"Oh, right." I say sarcastically, standing by the door and giving him room to walk in. He makes his way to the living room, me being hot on his tail. The heels I wear make clicking noises as I walk.

Today Four, Micah, and I have all agreed to meet up at my house to work on the project about 'Four's acting life,' or in other words, the time that Ms. Jeanine Matthews, his manager, had accepted him into the acting career. I was playing Ms. Matthews, Micah was playing Four's dad, and Four was playing himself.

He plopped himself on the couch, and I join myself next to him, removing the heels and rubbing my red feet. Gosh, how did any girl put up with these?

"I see you have taken initiative to decorate the place." He says, hunching over, his forearms resting on his thighs.

I smile at the fact that he noticed, and look around myself. It's not much, that's for sure. Just a old camera sitting at the coffee table poised upward and ready to record. I set up a white sheet as the background, hanging over the tv, pinned against the ceiling. On the sheet, I drew a crappy looking table, making it look as 3D as possible, with a door to the way opposite side. It was really bad, considering I am not the drawer. I have tried that already. I'm not a drawer, or a singer, or a dancer. Just a writer.

"Yea. You like it?" I ask, hoping it isn't too bad.

"No, I hate it." He looks at me seriously and stern, and puts on an angry face. "Why the hell did you not consult me on this?! This is a piece of crap!"

I look at him in a state of confusion and horror. Darn. And to think I was trying to impress him!

He studies my face, his eyebrows scrunched up still, and then, suddenly, breaks out into laughter. I look at him weird. He just howls loudly, clutching at his stomach, and wiping some residue that's in his eyes.

"You-shouldve… seen your… face!" He topples over, almost falling in the coffee table before catching himself.

A stupid, and harmless joke. Huh. I shove him. "You ass! I thought you were for real!" My cheeks heat up with frustration, but I can't help but smile a bit.

"And that," he laughs some more, "is why they call me an actor."

I begin to scold him more as he laughs his head off, his whole face becoming red. I begin to laugh to. He looks cute with a reddened face. I can't believe I did that to him.

"Knock knock?" A voice interrupts our fit of laughter, and Micah stands in the doorway of the living room, dressed in a grey suit and tie. His hair is combed to the side, enhancing his face. He's handsome. Really, really handsome, once you direct the attention to his face. I've never thought to look at him like that. I don't like-like him at all, that's for sure.

"Okay, well," Says Four, making me break my daze from Micah. I look to him and see his hard and unreadable face back on. The Four face.

I clap my hands together softly. "Let's do this."

Someone busts out laughing. Again.

"Cut." I say softly. I run an agitated hand through my now disheveled hair. We have been practicing to get this part in the act just right. I don't know how many attempts we have been through so far, and only got a portion of it recorded before someone starts to laugh. It's so annoying, considering I am the one editing all this crap.

"I have to call it a day." Says Micah. He rubs a hand to his face soothingly. It is pretty late now, dark outside. I am uncomfortable, hungry, and tired.

"Okay." I yawn, and place the fake clipboard down on the sofa. My parents were back from there trip and are currently in the kitchen. They had come in numerous times asking if we wanted any snacks or food. I just declined, not asking Micah or Four for their thoughts.

I walk Micah to the door, and he steps outside while I stay in my warm house. He smiles, and gives me a light hug, into which I hastily give back. He releases me, and walks away to his car. I listen to his car engine as he leaves.

I close the door and walk back to the living room, to find Four lying lazily on my couch.

"What are you still doing here?" I ask, pushing his legs off the couch so I can sit.

"I don't know." He honestly says. He closes his eyes and leans back on the armrest of the couch.

"Well, I'm going to go get dresses out of this," I motion for my body, "outfit."

I cascade up the stairs and walk into my room, shutting the door behind me. I get out a pair of grey and white sweatpants that stop a little above my ankle and a dark purple t shirt and black jacket.

I look at myself in the mirror, unaware of what I might see. What I do see suprises me, yet I don't know why.

I am plain and boring, with my big smallmouth and slim nose. My eyes are bloodshot red from being tired of the day, and My hair is messed up with a bunch of loose strands hovering over my face, the clips obviously not working. I hastily remove them and let my short hair hover over my tired features, hiding them to its full extent. I sigh. I guess this is how I'll look for now.

I paddle back down the stairs, my now bare feet sticking to the cold wood floor with each step. I'm halfway down the steps and I hear something peculiarly weird.

Laughter?

Yes, laughter. The laughter coming from my father and… Four. He's still here?

I walk into the living room, intruding on them both.

"Oh, Beatrice." Says my father, smiling wide. "Your friend here is very funny."

"Yes, Beatrice." Grins Four. "I am very funny."

"A very funny and stupid douchebag." I mumble.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, son?" My dad asks, still smiling.

The thought disgusts me. Dinner? No. My father probably has no flippin idea who Four is. How famous he is, and how… not funny.

"No dad!" I screech. My father looks at me, his eyes narrowing.

"Why, Beatrice. Let the man have a say."
"Tris." I howl. "And do you even know who he is, dad? Do you know his name?"

My father scowls. "Beatrice!"

Four laughs, as if he finds this all funny. "In all respect, Mr. Prior, I would love to stay! Alas, I have to go. I have another interview tomorrow for my upcoming movie. Besides, I wouldn't want to trouble you," he looks at me, a smirk evident on his face. "And your daughter." He says that is a lower voice, a deeper one. Alluring.

My father seems taken aback by this. "Well, alright then. I'll see you… soon, hopefully."

"And I you." His acting skills disgust me. He walks to the door, but gracefully passes me first, handing me a slip of paper.

"My number." He says, eyeing me. "Don't be hesitant to call."

I probably look in awe. It's not all the time a superstar gives you his number.

And with that, he walks out.

Short… I know. But I'm trying to find the time. I will be releasing another story though, so go check it when it's out.