[HIATUS] 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 || unORDINARY

Chapter II

꧁☾𝚄𝚗𝚎 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚞𝚡 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚜☽꧂

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"Johnny!" Cecile yelled as she burst excitedly through the door, a bunch of stapled A4 sheets waving carelessly above her body within her pale hand.

My eyes rolled in annoyance. "You know how much I hate being called that," I reminded her, sifting through the scattered papers of my own.

Cecile giggled—something I find her not doing overly often, "No matter!" she said in somewhat of a sing-song voice, "Your favourite agent just got you a new gig!"

My fingers interlaced and elbows placed atop of the desk, "What? How did Lillium get me a new gig? I thought I put you on the job?" I asked, sounding serious but only joking.

Lillium didn't even work for me.

Cecile just rolled her eyes—knowing what I was implying.

Ignoring that, she went to sit on the desk in front of me, "All the details are right here," she said, sloppily planting the stapled sheets on top of my table and looking smugly over my face.

I raised an eyebrow and reached out to grab them off the desk, but as I did, it was shunned out of my reach.

"Cecile!" I yelled, retracting the outstretched hand back to my person.

Cecile put on a quaint smile, clearly knowing that she was striking a nerve.

"You can have it . . . if you promise not to have a hissy-fit when you find out where it's being filmed, and you also have to say that I am indeed your favourite agent."

I sighed, leaning my cheek on a clenched fist of mine, "You're technically my only agent," I said, unamused, "So that means that you're both my favourite and least favourite; always remember that."

She just simply lolled her head to the side and casually pushed the stapled papers back toward me, voice returning to a somewhat serious tone, "Don't say I didn't warn you, John. You won't like where it's being filmed."

I took the paper from her and hastily flipped the top sheet—reading: 'A Tale of Two Worlds'—to the side.

Noticing the place and time of filming, my eyes and mouth both opened wide.

"WELLSTON!?" I yelled, eyes quickly trailing down to the bottom of the sheet, "IN A WEEK!?"

Cecile huffed and moved to sit on my desk—her arms folded, "Didn't I tell you not to throw a tantrum?" she reminded me.

Once she said this, I whacked my head on the table. Hard.

Is that any better, CEciLe?

"Oi! If you do that you'll get hurt," my agent said as she carefully peeled my head from the table's wooden surface.