Brenton Thwaites Imagines

The Interview

I sighed as I walked into the five-star hotel. I scoffed as I walked up to the front desk. I rolled my eyes as I saw the gold pens, fancy notepads and expensive lotion.

Typical. Only the best for someone is considered the best.

I wanted to throw up. Instead of spending hundreds of dollars on a five star hotel why doesn't someone give their money to charity? All actors are selfish.

"How may I help you?" Said the way too cheery lady.

"Hi, I'm with Vogue Magazine," I said flashing my press badge. "I need to know which room Mr. Brenton Thwaites is in." I could tell she didn't feel like telling me.

"He's in the Simmons Suite," she said like she was all that. "And don't even think that he's gonna fall for you." She snickered.

"Yeah well, I have as much of a chance as you do." I said before walking towards the elevator.

When I reached the room I knocked on the door and waited. "I didn't order room service!"

I sighed. "Mr. Thwaites, it's Anna Terin from Vogue magazine. I'm here for your interview."

Seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Brenton with his shirt only having one button done and wet hair. I tried to hold my laughter. He looked down at himself and laughed at his messy self.

"Sorry..... I'm not very good at watching the time." He chuckled.

"That's ironic considering you're an actor." I said sarcastically as I walked into his room.

"Well then," I heard him chuckle under his breathe. I sat down and pulled out my notebook. "I see you like to do things the old fashioned way." He chuckled sitting across from me.

"Well it still works and it's a lot lighter." I didn't expect him to laughter way he did. I chuckled as he started to calm down. "It wasn't that funny."

"You don't give yourself enough credit Mrs. Terin."

I cringed. "Anna. Just Anna."

"Anna," he corrected standing up. "Would you like a drink?"

"I'm fine."

"Oh come on!" He said grabbing two sodas out of the fridge. And handed me one.

I laughed as I opened the can and took a drink. "Alrighty, so," I started.

"Don't you hate giving interviews?" He asked out of the blue.

"What?" I asked.

"I mean, I would hate having to travel around, putting my schedule around some arrogant actor's, asking boring question that they don't even give you the answer to."

I chuckled because he hit the nail right on the head. "Well, don't you hate being an actor? I mean all the traveling, not being able to have anything private, being constantly judged for ever little thing you do, not being able to go to the grocery store without being bombarded, all the crazy fan girls who know more about you than you're own parents do. Everyone telling you where to go, what to wear, who you should be? That doesn't sound very appealing. Yes you get money and become famous, but is popularity really worth loosing your privacy?"

We sat there silently, thinking about what I had said. He just stared at me. After a few minutes, it got awkward.

"Anyway," I cleared my throat.

"You're right." He interrupted......again.

I sighed. "What?"

"What you said. You're right. Sometimes I wish I wasn't famous but when I'm filming, that dread immediately goes away. Yes, I have no privacy and girls can get really creepy but I do it because it's fun. I act because of the people it helps."

"You mean, the company's that get money?" I scoffed. He chuckled before shaking his head.

"No, the kids." He paused leaving me really confused. "Not all actors are stuck up, arrogant, selfish people. I'm not like that." He smiled.

I chuckled. "Prove it."

"I spend any free time at the local orphanage." Talk about feeling sheepish.

I didn't notice how long I had been staring at him until he started laughing. "You look way to shocked."

I felt my face redden as I turned my attention back to my pen and notebook.

"So, what was it like being able to work with Meryl Streep? She...."

"Wanna hear a joke?"

I sighed loudly as I clicked my pen shut, put it in my notebook and closed it. "You obviously don't want to answer any questions so sure. What's the joke?"

"What does a nosey pepper say?"

"What?"

"I'm jalapeño business." He chuckled smiling in a goofy way causing me to laugh.

"I'm sorry to cut this interview short but Brenton we're gonna be late for a table reading." Walked in a man in a suit who I'm guessing was Brenton's manager.

"Oh um....." Brenton looked from his manager back to me. I just shrugged.

"It's okay. I didn't get much but, I'm pretty creative. I can think up a kick-butt article." I smiled, putting all my stuff back.

"Yeah, or we can do a real interview over coffee sometime?" Did he just ask me out. "Here." He grabbed my pen and paper that should have been full of quotes and wrote his number.

"Thanks," I awkwardly laughed. I started to walk out.

"Wait!" I got called back.

"Yeah?" I popped my head back in. He walked out with a hat and a jacket on.

"Let me walk you out."

"Oh, you don't have to." I rejected.

"Come on. I already avoided all your questions. The least I could do is walk you to you're car." By then we were in the elevator.

Once the doors opened again, we walked out. The preppy lady smiled as she saw Brenton but scoured when she saw me.

"So, where's your car?"

"Ummm I walked here." I said avoiding his gaze.

"That's so cool!" He exclaimed catching me off guard. "I wish I could walk everywhere but Mason won't let me." We chuckled as we stepped outside.

"So, I guess I'll see you around Brenton." I reached out my hand for him to shake.

He grabbed it as he smiled, "Hopefully sooner."

Heyy so thanks for reading!! Keep an eye out for the article that came out of this fun interview!!