thought_contagion.

“Fucking wannabes—“ Camilla spat venomously as she strutted through the sound stage, the clicking of Louboutins against the concrete as she walked. People moved, jumped, or she would’ve pushed them out of the way, it didn’t make a difference to her, so long as they disappeared from her path. Approaching the bay doors, she stalled, if only to pull out her phone. Catching the display, she pressed the side button to ignore it, as hues fell onto the person nearby. “You look lost,” She cooed, almost affectionately if she knew how to have any sort of human emotion. “The exit is that way.”

Travis wasn’t in the mood. Then again, when was he ever? He already had a low tolerance for most people but even lower when it came to the bullshit. Making his way to the soundstage, he was mindlessly going over pages while drinking a cup of coffee in the hopes of sparking some energy within him. The latter was a pipe dream but no one could say he didn’t try -- even if the effort was minimal. Barely on the set, he could feel the tense vibes of the few crew members he passed and that already had him on the defensive.  “I love how you say that as if you aren’t standing in the entrance way of my set.” He retorted, voice monotone. “So, how about you move to the side Princess, you’re in the way and people are trying to work.”

Some nervous assistant or intern screwed up – which wasn’t shocking – but what was surprising is how badly they managed to. Whatever meeting they were tasked to feed would only have twenty or so people, and yet they ordered dozens of pastries and sandwiches – far more than would be needed and more than could fit on the table. Danika had been there before, and in order to help out and not make them look bad, she took half on their hands. It was nice in theory, but now she was in possession of food that she had no idea what to do with. Without a set to be on that day or a crew to hand them off to, she cursed her kindness as she wondered if there were any homeless people hanging around outside the studio or a gaggle of interns she could make the day off. As she contemplated, someone passing by was targeted, Danika figuring sh e could at least free one treat from the pack. 

“Hey – in the mood for a donut?”

At some point during this meeting, Travis zoned out. Probably when the marketing and publicity teams got up to present to him, babbling about how best to position his latest film. The buzz words they threw out like “epic” and “cinematic event” made his eyes twitch behind the dark sunglasses he wore. This was his worst nightmare -- actually, it was hell and he couldn’t wait for it to be over. With a half-hearted wave and a less than convincing smile, Travis left the room and finally felt like he could breathe. Not even out of the building, he began to pad around his jacket looking for his pack of cigarettes when a voice caught his attention. Looking up, he squinted (because he refused to take off the sunglasses that would make him see better) and eventually was able to confirm who it was. “Not necessarily -- althought I can’t recall you being a sugar fiend, King. What’s with the assortment of pasties?”

While he was talking more at people than to them, Andre didn’t really expect anyone to respond to the crazy ranting man. One did, however, and the somewhat familiar face gave Andre a slight hint of relief that he wasn’t going to have to deal with a crying intern for his yelling. “You mean shitnado? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s what in this coffee. Actually, no,I’m sure even shit would taste better. It’s like that scene out of Austin Powers only I’m not gonna keep drinking this shit.” Andre grumbled as he chucked the cup in the bin and the end of the table. “I’m not asking for something specially trained pigs can find o-or something a rare monkey in Madagascar has to eat and shit out first, but how can you serve this to people? Actual fucking human beings…?” Andrew sighed. He was pretty sure he reached his ’shit’ quota for the day in that one moment and knew for sure it was his lack of sleep and now coffee making him go off,  and while he didn’t ever really intend to take it out on people,he needed some sort of chemical vice to wind him down, which Travis was offering. “Sure, I mean I’m already a middle aged man half a mi-life crisis away from buying a car to get women to talk tome and probably suffering for a probable mood disorder, so why not add booze to the mix and become an alcoholic?” He joked without a laugh, only a smile cracked as he moved towards the door, on the way seeing a girl bringing in a refill for the coffee and scowling at her.”That is garbage – just throw it on a house fire where it would be put to better use.” He crumbled before walking away, turning his attention on Travis. “ You as sick of this place as I am?

It’s a shame comfort came in the form of a man who was as grumpy and jaded as he was. That Travis found solace in the fact that he didn’t have slap a smile on his face and ‘play the game’ like he was supposed to. His publicist wasn’t around, the suits nowhere in sight to poke at him so, despite the lingering doom that was coming in the next couple hours, Travis could be himself. Or whatever version that he was supposed to be. “You’ve been around for how long? At this point, you ain’t got no one but yourself to blame for thinking this wasteland is pumping anything but generic garbage.” A shit eating grin then spreads across his face, waiting a moment before continuing. “----both on the screen and behind it.” Patting the man on the back, Travis let out a warm chuckle. “I’m not doctor, but I’ve been told a little -- actually, a lot of booze can fix both of those issues.” Hands slipping into the pocket of his jacket, he began to wander off the set and in the direction of anywhere but here that contained hard liquor. “Been sick of it but I’m a masochist who keeps coming back and they pay my bills cause they know my ass isn’t going anywhere. It’s a trap and I keep falling for it.” 

He was tired, but that wasn’t anything new. Andre lived his entire life on four to five hours of sleep at most, at least five cups a coffee a day, and yelling at people to release the crankiness from lack of sleep. It was the reason why he was on a set that wasn’t his, hovering at the catering tables after his meeting with an executive trying to gather his shit together before heading right into another meeting. He would need the coffee to stay awake and not lose it when the suits made their demands, and he wasn't a stranger to set crashing either way. Finally his eyes landed on coffee and softened, Andre wetting his lips as he grabbed a paper cup and fulled it with the steaming brew, taking it to his lips with a heavy sigh of relief before spitting it right back in his cup. “What the fuck is that?  Hippie brand organic locally grown fair trade horse shit? Are you telling me this studio has billions of dollars in their account and they can’t splurge on decent coffee? God… It tastes like gasoline and piss and sadness… Just holding it is making me depressed. Where the fuck is the real coffee?”

Travis had a love hate (mostly hate) relationship with Hollywood. Raised up in the industry as a child turned adult actor, it was all he knew but it didn’t mean he liked the politics and the bullshit that came along with it. Moving from in front of to behind the camera made the work he was doing tolerable but it barely quelled the irritation that usually emanated around him. Especially when he had to head to Vanguard to meet with the suits, with his latest project in post-production the latest cut was being reviewed and he was dreading the lengthy notes that would tell Travis what he could not do with the film. Needing to get his mind off of the inevitable meeting in a few hours, he was walking around the vast lost in search of some sort of distraction. Lucky, or unluckily depending on who you asked, enough he ran into Andre who was almost as cranky as he was. “That’s what you get for trying to mooch coffee off of a Sharknado 15 set.” Travis called out before looking down at the watch that adorned his wrist. “Plus, it’s after twelve, which means we can drink something much harder than coffee.”