❝ when will you admit that he's not meant for this kind of life? ❞
◯
This is how the story starts. In a coffee shop in Beverly Hills. That's how it all begins. But how? Devon thought, his story has been narrated before? But oh, this was a different story. A story of a dancer, a script and a dream. Corny, right? Well, in that moment, Devon knew that beneath the cheesiness, was a story of the ages.
As the young dancer sat patiently in the chic, fancy restaurant, calmly eyeing the glass ornaments centred in the middle of the table, he wondered why he felt so much anxiety. Devon's glistening brown eyes flung down to the white table, skimming past the stack of papers sitting on the clear surface in front of him. His tattooed hands traced his glass of water, feeling a buzz of anticipation once that word flashed through his mind. This was the start of a breakthrough. He couldn't mess it up, he couldn't afford to lose.
"Hey, Devon!"
Devon's head snapped up at the sound of his name. Mindlessly, he stood up, a welcoming grin stretching across his lips once he saw John Singleton marching up to his table. "Hey John, thank you for meeting with me today," Devon greeted the director in a diplomatic fashion, extending his large hand and accepting John's joyous handshake.
As always, John Singleton was chipper and vibrant, donned in a shirt woven with purple, yellow and green stitching, and of course, his rounded shades hid his friendly gaze. "It's no problem," John responded, easing into an empty seat, and Devon did the same, "I haven't heard from you in awhile, I was started to get worried."
Along with his words, John threw Devon a lighthearted smile, bracing his forearms on the sleek table in amusement. Devon sent him an apologetic glance, choosing not to splutter out various details about the messy past few months. The drama prevented Devon from contacting the director sooner. But alas, Devon still had a lot to say.
"I was surprised you still wanted to discuss this," Devon said, and he meant his words. The media cycle as of late painted Devon as a tabloid mess, which made jobs, opportunities and everything in-between vanish into thin air. He was practically a walking 'has-been'. But apparently, John didn't care.
"Well, I believe that you and me can create something special with this, and I ain't ready to give it up yet," John said, and his answer was a relief for Devon, who was almost certain that his diluted media presence would sabotage the film. Sure, it's calmed down a little bit, but Devon felt terrified at the thought of a project being flushed down the drain because of him. But again, Devon Emmet should've known that the filthy lies led him down this part, and in that sense, he was thankful for it.
