Hopelessly in Love

Chapter 1

An elongated sigh left the man's mouth as he was pacing back and forth, eyes pasted on his script. The low sweatpants sitting pretty on his hips move with anxiety. He stops in his tracks. "Dammit, why is this so hard?" He grunts. "This shouldn't be hard! I was born in London, for Christ sake. Although I wasn't born in the eighteen hundreds, where as 'Mr. Duggins' was." He says to himself, now leaning on his sleek black desk. The man's face scrunches up his nose in disgust, looking at the lines that are giving him a hard time for literally no reason.
    The director wanted to do another adaptation of an old book , 'The Flower Withers in May', written by an English man who was fighting cancer in the seventy's. His book quickly got recognition with it's heart wrenching, poetry-like words and deep characters. It was adapted into a movie in nineteen eighty five by a screenwriter who didn't understand the book, and turned it into a cheesy Victorian romance, which many fans loathed. Then in nineteen ninety seven, an actual fan of the book who is a screenwriter, took it apon herself to do it the right way. The tomato rating for it was off the charts, spectacular. Now, they want to do another one, 'up to date' as Henry, the director, likes to say, with the help of the woman who did the second movie.

  A ringtone goes off, tearing the man's attention away. He reads the phone contact, groans, and answers. "Hello, mother." He droned. "Hello, Alexander. I wanted to remind you about your auntie's wedding is this Monday at twelve, since I know you have a problem remembering things when you are busy." The phone says. Her hoarse, monotone voice makes him feel miserable. Even through the phone. He grumbles, "The reason I forget is because I know your ass is gonna be there and I don't want to see you-"
"What was that?"
  "Nothing, nothing. Yes, I remember when her tenth wedding is going to be. Jesus, how many men can she marry in the past forty years? " He rolls his eyes and puts the phone on speaker, placing it on his desk as he scans over his script. "Alexander,"His mother says in a warning tone. "Don't you dare start, boy. I do not want to see your auntie crying, running away from you after she threw wine on your shirt. Again." And Alex prayed that doesn't happen this time. But he just can't help it. How do you go through relationships like water draining between your fingertips? It didn't make sense to him, but he shuts up about it since he practically does the same thing. Three ex-girlfriends.

All in the same month.

  "Don't get your knickers in a knot, mother. I'm not gonna say anything to her." He quipped. "I probably won't stay long. Just pop in and congratulate the two." He hears his mother hum. "That's fine. Just be there. Also, it may rain, so bring a brolly just in case."
"Alright. I will. Goodbye, mother." "Goodbye." He hangs up the call and lets a breath out. "Ugh, I do not want to go..." He whines. His phone rings again, but this time it was a unique melody, custom made for the most extra person he knows.
   He picks it up and croaks, "What is it, Kai?"  "Wow, ok. Way to start a conversation with your brother! 'Oh, hi Kai! How was your day?' 'Pretty good thanks! How about yours?'" He then spews silly sounds, making Alex cringe. "What ever happened to that!?" Kai yells. "Fine! Hi, Kai. How was your day?" Alex hoped that he heard his sarcasm, because he now has an even bigger headache. "Eh, moment over. You ruined it." Mother fu— "Anyway! I wanted to know how you're coming along with your lines. Heard you were havin' some trouble with it, surprisingly." Alex sighs, grabbing his script. He walks out of his office to his spacious living room and sits down on the large couch. "Yeah, m'having a lot of trouble with this. It's like Shakespeare writing but not? And some of these words I feel like aren't even English." Kai cackles at his big brother's confusion. "Shut up, man! This is serious. I've never in my time of being an actor have been this stumped on a character." Alex explains. He's been in many different movies and genres, making him a reliable actor. Once he understands the character that he's playing as, it's like he becomes a different person. Want him to play as a stoic space captain? You got it. Give him the eye patch and he's on a roll. Want him to play as a hopeless romantic? Make sure to have the rain ready because you'll be bawling your eyes out. But this? This... Mr. Duggins... is confusing.