Going off Script

0.3

Alex groaned and stretched as he got up from his bed putting on his soft, pink, bunny slippers. He stretched out to not feel sore in the early...afternoon? 

The memory of the night before just a simple thought away. He checked his watch, 

4:00 PM

He groaned and slipped his phone into the pockets of his grey,baggy sweat pants. He didn't even bother, he had the clothes from the night before tossed into a pile beside his bed, the same as the rest of his room, quite a mess. Of course he meant to clean it one day at least.

He walked over to the small kitchen of the trailer he rented, it was in a small trailer park, he didn't expect to be living in such a small place after acting school. He had such high hopes, perhaps being the next Demi Moore or Leonardo DiCaprio.. Yet some dreams are just that. Simply dreams.

He didn't like those thoughts, the ones that made you feel like absolute crap most of the time. So he simply shrugged it off. 

A few meows were heard from the other side of the trailer, the walls were quite thin. A chubby yet fit cat with a soft coat of fur which made him shed everywhere came in doing a prideful catwalk. Looking around as if he were to rule the world, his dull green eyes piercing everything (which I mean the couches and the dust building up in the corners of the trailer.) In his path.

A smile grew upon Quackity's face as he greeted the cat, picking him up "Hello there little kitty! Wanna play rock paper scissors?" Quackity said in a high pitched cooing tone as he said "Rock paper scissors-" he paused as Tiger, the cat, attacked his hand with his paws and small recently cut claws. 

This, of course, made Quackity's day better for Christs sake. Eventually the thoughts of what happened the night before flooded his mind 

"Oh shit.." He muttered placing Tiger down

He took out his phone and scrolled through his recently called, clicking on the first number that appeared. Which of course was Wilbur's number.

He muttered curses as he hoped for primes sake Wilbur didn't have a clue about what happened. 

Though it might've not done much it's quite embarrassing to know you and your director called for three hours just to say such silly nonsense to each other.

Wilbur, didn't pick up the first time which gave Quackity enough time to start up the coffee maker to make his morning coffee.

Quackity, being who he was, dialed his number back.

"For fucks sake Wilbur, just answer." He muttered, 

What if Wilbur remembered and just didn't want to talk to him? What if Alex just ruined his only shot of getting  into an actual movie instead of crappy fast-food commercials.

Tiger kept meowing non-stop which made Quackity bothered slightly. 

So he served him some cat food to see if he'd shut up. Which he did, well Tiger was quite hungry, so Quackity did give him that.

Eventually after the third call, to god damn Wilbur Soot. He answered. Which made Quackity scoff from disbelief, "Wow. I thought you were never gonna pick up." Alex said teasingly. 

Wilbur; barely woke up, still on his couch, bottles and bottles of spirit surrounded him. "Oh? So you were so eager to hear my voice again?" He gave a snarky remark.

Quackity's cheeks turned a pale rose as he could imagine the shit-eating grin Wilbur probably had on his face.  

"oh fuck off, anywho, so yesterday at the party you mentioned an open role in your movie..right?" 

He asked, hoping it was true and not just one of Wilbur's drunk delusions.

Wilbur nodded from the other side of the phone,for-getting they weren't meeting in person. So there was a tense silence.

"Oh. Yes! Uhm.. Would you be free around 11:00 AM tomorrow? So we can discuss this in a more..professional environment?" He replied, rubbing his eyes still quite tired.

He had a raging headache, though Alex's voice just.. Soothed the pain in a way. 

"Well yes. I'm not busy tomorrow. " Quackity said in return, pouring the coffee from the coffee-pitcher into a porcelain mug his mum gave him. 

"Alrighty then, we may meet at.." He paused "we can meet at a cafe In L'manberg Boulevard 6300. " Wilbur continued.

After the two said goodbye Quackity pumped his fist in the air as if he were from a TV rom-com. He took a few sips from his piping hot coffee, giving a soft wince once it burnt his mouth. "Ah fuck that hurt. Anywho.. Tiger! I got a gig! Well I think so, but can you believe that? " he looked at the cat, a big toothy grin spread across his face.Tiger looked like he didn't give a fuck and simply meowed in response. Quackity leaned over and pat the cat on the head 

"Good Cat." 

He smiled as he said that. Eventually he connected his phone to a speaker and blasted some McCafferty. He sang along as he did a little dance. 

He looked at the kitchen and sighed, he decided to clean it, now that he possibly had a gig, he had some motivation.

After three hours the kitchen looked spotless; he washed the dishes, cleaned the cupboards, wiped down the counters, sweeped and mopped, cleaned the oven and microwave and even cleaned the fridge and the freezer. 

He took a few steps back to see the kitchen, it looked nice nonetheless, though it probably would've taken less time if it was someone else..no, no he put an effort! He tried!

He nodded at the positive thoughts, it was already noon, the sun on the verge of setting.  Quackity went back to the small bedroom of his and started watching Desperate Housewives.

Once it was 10:00 PM, exactly two hours of Desperate Housewives, Quackity set a timer for 9:00 AM and turned off all the lights, Tiger jumping onto the bed and sleeping in his usual Corner. Eventually Quackity drifted off into sleep.

He let out soft snores and moved around slightly, even in his sleep he was aware not to hit or kick Tiger by accident.

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I apologize for last times short chapter THOUGH this one is 1,021 words✋. Anywho be safe, drink water, eat etc💙