This New in the Old
He was used to business meetings; the long table, the men in suits trying to convince him in which direction he should go, the little water cooler in the corner, but most familiar was the room; it would always be the same. White walls, trying to make it look more spacious; a potted plant somewhere; large glass windows looking out onto whichever city he happened to be in; the glass wall looking out onto the corridor that provided a useful way for him to distract himself, people's imaginary lives to create inside his mind.
He was used to that. That was the usual.
When Ed stopped next to a large, brick warehouse, that looked unused since its completion date of 1940, which could be read above the large doors; Lucas couldn't understand what was going on. The new member of staff had to be pretty important to warrant him going out of his way to meet them, usually it would just be a quick handshake at a set or studio.
There was someone the meet him, opening the car door before he even got a chance to; it was Mark. He was Lucas's wardrobe, his personal fashion chooser, his go to guy. He was there before every party, every show, every interview...he went everywhere Lucas went, making sure that the paparazzi would never get a bad picture of him. It was all part of the 'brand', the look. Lucas knew full well it wasn't his skills that got him the parts; it was his reputation, his celebrity status. This was status due partly to his position at the top of all the best dressed lists and he only got there because of Mark.
"Hello darling," He greeted enthusiastically. He'd taken an earlier flight than Lucas, making sure that he would be ready whenever he was needed.
"Hey," He'd gotten used to the eccentricity of the man in front of him, but he still had a little trouble in feeling comfortable as Mark pecked him on both cheeks.
"How was your flight?"
"Normal, now, why are we here?" Lucas didn't want to mess around. He was tired, thirsty and incredibly homesick. It killed him to be so close, but to still have to wait longer to get home.
"James and I...are adopting!"
"Congratulations!" He smiled happily for the man whom he had been closest to for the past 4 years; in some ways he was his best friend, after Haley of course.
"And I'm leaving,"
"You're what?"
"I want to raise my daughter," A smile came to man's face at the thought of being a father. "You know, go to ballet class, watch her put on shows in the living room, be there on her birthdays and Christmas's,"
"Basically everything this job would stop you doing?"
"Don't get me wrong, I love this job, it's been great," Mark smiled and began leading him inside. "You've been fabulous...and I can't say I won't miss the business class flights around the world, VIP treatment, meeting all sorts of people...but I think..."
"It's really great, I wouldn't have expected any less from you," He smiled reassuringly at his employee. "And, just give me a call and I'm sure we'll be able to arrange some VIP treatment,"
"Thank you," He let Mark give him a quick hug, something he rarely allowed, but this was an exception. He suddenly realised where he was.
"You brought me back to where we met? How appropriate," He grinned.
"That you should now meet your new person here..."
"My new person?"
"You think I'd leave without finding you the perfect replacement? Sheesh," Mark began walking down the corridor, beckoning with his finger for Lucas to follow him through the door at the end.
"Shit," The door opened to reveal a huge room, full of clothing racks. The ceiling was high and the brick walls had been painted over with white, the floor was concrete, causing their footsteps to echo loudly through the space.
"You don't have to wear them all," Mark laughed. "I thought it would be a good effect...worked pretty nicely,"
"Ok..."
"Now, she should be over here," Lucas followed Mark again, this time keeping by his side.
"So, are you completely giving up working?"
"For a bit," Mark's pace didn't slow, his pointed shoes clapping against the cold flooring. "Then I think interior design," Lucas looked at him, unsure as to whether he was being serious or joking about his stereotype. "Don't look at me like that, honey. I'm gay, it's what we do," Lucas laughed quietly, but it turned into a loud sound, reverberating around the walls. "Well, this is hopeless," Mark sighed, stopping abruptly. "BROOKE!" He put his hands to his mouth and called the name repeatedly.
Lucas tried to imagine what the woman would be like. He begun by thinking of all the Brooke's that he knew or had heard of. He could only think of Brooke Shields. He wondered if she would be his age or older, he then remembered quite how old he was and realised she could be younger – he was 30 after all. Maybe she was a protégée of one of Mark's friends, as he was pretty sure Mark had no time to have protégées.
He hoped she was pretty; he imagined her with blonde hair, maybe in ringlets. With a bit of luck, she'd be quite small as well – he wasn't the tallest of guys. She'd be thin, but not thin enough to make her limbs look like twigs; she'd have a good appetite too. Then he could take her out to proper restaurants, the kind he liked, not the ones that charged $50 for an anchovy and a salad leaf.
He then realised he was thinking about her as if she were a potential date, or even more, possibly a girlfriend. She wasn't. She would work for him, just like Mark had. Maybe they'd be friends, maybe they wouldn't. But they certainly wouldn't date.
Then he thought about what quality he wanted most in her.
Loyalty?
Trust?
Humour?
The ability to not get star struck?
He settled on the latter.
