naveed usmani

Prior to Mystery Inc.'s set, it had been years since he had seen Naveen, and even more years since their little moment. But it was a difficult thing to forget, especially now. Especially since, if the rumours were ever confirmed, Royce suspected his old fans wouldn't be all too pleased. But Royce didn't regret it; he didn't regret most of his flirtations and trysts. Art was love, and love was art.

"Not like you to be confined to a hiding spot, Nav." He chuckled, scratching at a well-cut patch of beard. "Where's your drink?" Royce lifted up his own, taking a long swig. At least his sister was too busy talking to the charming set gaffer to pay Royce any heed at the moment. It had been far too long since he was able to indulge himself in fancy alcoholic drinks.

Royce had been a great help during those years in Hollywood time-out. He had the connections still to help Naveed Usmani - or "Arthur Baig" - score some writing gigs while he had to maintain a low profile. Seeing Naveed with old friend and frequent collaborator Royce Galloway kept him in a positive light for the news, though the rise of the Internet was giving people more freedom to parrot inaccuracies about his removal from the Jason Graves movie.

"My agent assured me everyone got that be on your best behavior on set e-mail, but I'm starting to think it was made for me specifically," Naveed says, raising a finger as though he's just put two and two together. A beat before an earnest moment: "I'm trying to get taken to series, man, I can't risk anything this early on."

Grace had learned to loathe parties at this point in her career, if you could even call what they had a career anymore. She always dreaded them but put up with them and the fake smiles and laughing at stories that weren't funny but now? She didn't feel like she had to do that if the industry was gonna cast them as an unhinged mean girl no matter what she did.

"I was actually just keeping it warm for you," Naveed joked, as though Atlanta heat wasn't doing a good enough job of that in the middle of summer.

There was some sort of snafu once, with this kid and a line in an awards show - at the time it was everything to him. Royce had pulled some strings, got him in the writers' room under a pseudonym and how did he get to continue his legacy? Some bratty Whizzy kid who didn't want to just read their lines like they're supposed to.

With years separated from it and a lot less booze in his system at present, he had long forgotten about the that " misstep ". Beef with a teenager. In his 30s.

Her main goal of the evening was to avoid her aforementioned ex, and get drunk enough to have fun in spite of his presence. So, she wandered through the lot somewhat aimlessly. As she walked around the side of the props trailer, her eyes fell upon Naveed. He was a familiar enough face as a friend of Lillard's, but thankfully he appeared to be alone. Her eyebrow arched subtly in response to his words, her curiosity piqued. "Why are you hiding? Not a big fan of parties?"

Lillard had never been specific about any of his dalliances, but the details of how he'd described one of his exes... she fit the description to a T. "That's what the word around the water cooler is? That I'm a party pooper?"

Things between the two seemed to fizzle out as Lillard lit a new flame, or so he'd have Naveed believe, so the comedian couldn't help but wonder if this was some sort of game he was playing at to trick Lark into coming back to him. He always did have a habit of stringing others along...