[it takes a hell of an actor to dupe hawkins fuller. or maybe subconsciously he's no better than any of the other directors out there - wanting to give the benefit of the doubt to pretty baby blues and an all-American star that's fallen from grace. so maybe he likes embry, or at least what he knows of him so far, and that's clouding his judgment. but is it really clouded if he's giving him an opportunity to prove himself rather than shoving him in the neat boxes vivienne moore wants presented to the world or the picture paparazzi have spent years tearing apart. so maybe there's a slight warmth at embry's smile, the good-natured incline of his head whether in mild agreement or self-deprecation to be determined. but it makes him think for once maybe everyone was wrong about this kid after all, and that it might not be a cakewalk, but it's not going to be the nightmare everyone's been holding their breath over.
maybe it's a good thing hawk is utterly distracted by another ping on his phone from tim the exact moment embry decides to bend over, brows knitting together as he tells him to push back from their oh-so friendly, nosy visitor from tmz who's kept the office phone ringing off the hook. when he glances back up embry has set the pen back on his desk, which means he's not a klepto and earns a brusque nod of thanks as he closes the door behind them with a note to his secretary that he'll be back in ten. the lot is quiet with the kind of tension that only comes from a proverbial bomb being dropped and no one wanting to pull its final trigger, so he's spared the greetings and sycophants chiming in as he walks past like a goddamn character from a disney movie on their daily jaunt through town.
it's a longer walk than it should have been to begin with, maybe, and suddenly he's starting to feel a whole lot more responsible as he steps inside and surveys the absolute shitshow in front of him. christ, this is bad. hawk steps aside to let embry in, closing the door behind them from any looky-loos and to preserve some of embry's privacy more than it's already been shredded to pieces today. the signs of struggle, the broken glass - and yeah, the bed that's completely decimated. embry must have been asleep, or laying there at the very least, and it makes his stomach flip with even more guilt at how jarring and utterly invasive that must have felt to wake up to a stranger in or standing over his bed. his jaw flickers, shoulders tense as he kneels down and notes wet bootprints that are clear and concise on the way towards the bed, slid and smeared from the hasty escape back towards the door.
hawk stands back up, hands on his hips for a moment before he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose and try to stave off a wave of dizziness that he feels creeping on him from the sudden shift in balance.]
Look - this never should have happened. Someone's head is going on the chopping block, I can promise you that. Are you...did they say anything to you? Did they do anything to you?
[he turns back, eyes steeled with determination to piece this all together even as he gently takes the tiny box that probably costs more than the marketing budget for a single production. embry's fingers are warm, brushing against his for a moment as he cradles it like precious cargo. which it basically is. he cracks the box slightly to look at the contents, brows raising in confirmation that yes, it's diamonds and pearls. not his taste - and frankly, he's wondering if it's vivienne moore's too - but keeps his expression neutral and mildly impressed.
but it sinks in when embry starts undressing immediately that this might have backfired and been a terrible fucking idea. maybe all his good faith was wrong and this has been a trap to get him in close quarters and point fingers - a he said, he said, sort of situation, as it were.]
Hands are a little full now.
[he lifts the box with a sheepish little shrug, keeping his face fixed solely on embry's face and not the cut v of his hips and slim waist. but it seems rude to leave him hanging and wait for someone else, so hawk carefully sets down the box and steps behind him to make quick work of the pins, hands staying exactly there without any other contact. he picks up the box again with a nod, stepping towards the door again.]
I'll wait outside with this. You need your privacy.
no subject
maybe it's a good thing hawk is utterly distracted by another ping on his phone from tim the exact moment embry decides to bend over, brows knitting together as he tells him to push back from their oh-so friendly, nosy visitor from tmz who's kept the office phone ringing off the hook. when he glances back up embry has set the pen back on his desk, which means he's not a klepto and earns a brusque nod of thanks as he closes the door behind them with a note to his secretary that he'll be back in ten. the lot is quiet with the kind of tension that only comes from a proverbial bomb being dropped and no one wanting to pull its final trigger, so he's spared the greetings and sycophants chiming in as he walks past like a goddamn character from a disney movie on their daily jaunt through town.
it's a longer walk than it should have been to begin with, maybe, and suddenly he's starting to feel a whole lot more responsible as he steps inside and surveys the absolute shitshow in front of him. christ, this is bad. hawk steps aside to let embry in, closing the door behind them from any looky-loos and to preserve some of embry's privacy more than it's already been shredded to pieces today. the signs of struggle, the broken glass - and yeah, the bed that's completely decimated. embry must have been asleep, or laying there at the very least, and it makes his stomach flip with even more guilt at how jarring and utterly invasive that must have felt to wake up to a stranger in or standing over his bed. his jaw flickers, shoulders tense as he kneels down and notes wet bootprints that are clear and concise on the way towards the bed, slid and smeared from the hasty escape back towards the door.
hawk stands back up, hands on his hips for a moment before he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose and try to stave off a wave of dizziness that he feels creeping on him from the sudden shift in balance.]
Look - this never should have happened. Someone's head is going on the chopping block, I can promise you that. Are you...did they say anything to you? Did they do anything to you?
[he turns back, eyes steeled with determination to piece this all together even as he gently takes the tiny box that probably costs more than the marketing budget for a single production. embry's fingers are warm, brushing against his for a moment as he cradles it like precious cargo. which it basically is. he cracks the box slightly to look at the contents, brows raising in confirmation that yes, it's diamonds and pearls. not his taste - and frankly, he's wondering if it's vivienne moore's too - but keeps his expression neutral and mildly impressed.
but it sinks in when embry starts undressing immediately that this might have backfired and been a terrible fucking idea. maybe all his good faith was wrong and this has been a trap to get him in close quarters and point fingers - a he said, he said, sort of situation, as it were.]
Hands are a little full now.
[he lifts the box with a sheepish little shrug, keeping his face fixed solely on embry's face and not the cut v of his hips and slim waist. but it seems rude to leave him hanging and wait for someone else, so hawk carefully sets down the box and steps behind him to make quick work of the pins, hands staying exactly there without any other contact. he picks up the box again with a nod, stepping towards the door again.]
I'll wait outside with this. You need your privacy.