to make things awkward | fillie

4 | flying solo

"Four films directed in just the past two years, and another two where you played a leading role!" The over-ecstatic interviewer, Dom, said, making Finn want to shrink back in his director's chair, "What a feat, mate!"

"Hah," Finn waved him off, "It's what keeps me sane." Which was probably the truest answer he'd given all afternoon. Without filming, or making music, or just creating in general, he'd have way too much space within his mind and would most likely drive himself crazy.

He'd been in interviews for the past few hours for a little bit of press surrounding the film he'd just wrapped, having just arrived back in London this morning. London, which was his home base for the past two years, was about to be something of the past for him. He was moving back to Vancouver after a short stint in Atlanta, and he was excited to finally get home.

"And all successes too, that can't be an accident."

"Well, if you pick the right projects, mix in the right people, and give it your damndest, then the result will often mirror your will. Obviously this isn't always the case, I've made some flops, but you get what you give about ninety percent of the time. It's all about the mindset."

Nodding along, the interviewer looked back to his notes which gave Finn a chance to look over to his assistant, James. The short statured, yet built red-head, pointed to his watch and held up a hand indicating he had about five more minutes of this before he was done for the day. Just five more minutes and he'd be on his way to the airport to fly to Atlanta.

Just five more minutes.

"Now, Finn, with all this success, what is it that keeps you motivated? What gets you up in the morning?"

"Um," Finn rubbed his chin then gestured wide, "The fans. . . I'd say the fans are the biggest thing. Knowing there are people out there, appreciating my work. If I was able to engage just one person per project, I'd say I did my job."

"So nothing personal for you? No family honor, or patriotic duty to ye old Canada?"

"No, no." Finn said with a smile, "There's no glory in what I do. I mean, I come to work, have fun and when it's done, I hope I was able to make something great with people who know how to do their jobs, and do them well. It's really very similar to any other job that way, it's just that a lot of people seem to know who I am while doing it."

"Humble. I like it." Dom said, a bit more calm now that they were wrapping up, "So, before we part ways, do you mind telling me what's next for you? What are you going to do with your life now?"

The question was a totally average ending question for an interview, but it must have been the way Dom asked it that sent Finn's mind spiraling down a mental wormhole. He forced a laugh as he tried to come up with a quick response. It should have been easy. After this, he was heading to Atlanta to meet up with his bandmate, Malcolm, and they were going to work on a new album for the next few months. It was supposed to be a bit of a slow down from his usual pace, but still a productive use of time. A creative use of time.

Yet, all Finn could focus on was everything he hadn't done with his life that he had envisioned for himself when he was younger. Things he wanted personally, rather than professionally, which was what Dom had meant by the question.

Long ago, before reality was an issue, Finn always thought he'd marry sometime in his late twenties, have a kid by his mid-thirties, and live happily ever after,  yadda, yadda, yadda . . . And it was still possible, but he'd have to marry the next girl he met and he definitely didn't want to do that.

But he had planned on being a family man as well as enjoying his career. He knew it could be done in tandem, yet, at that moment, he had a flash of honesty with himself where he realized he hadn't been pursuing that part of his life for years. He hadn't seriously dated in over five years. He busied himself with work so much that it didn't create much of a space for a girlfriend. And he was so loose with sleeping around that he hadn't even noticed the hole in his life. Maybe it was being thirty-one now that had him thinking this way, but maybe he was just a little disappointed in himself as well.