Heart Themed Canvas [UsUk]

Above The Line [Ch.1]

A/N:I'll back to one shot asap,i love one shot too!

— 1. Foundation —

"Where are we going?" Arthur asked, probably as the fifteenth time he had done so that car ride. His manager, ever the frustrating French git, only smiled amusedly as he gently tipped the wheel for a slow turn down onto yet another one of Hollywood's expansive boulevards.

"I told you already, mon ami," Francis murmured, as he kept his eyes carefully trained upon the road. "I am taking you to your new job."

"You make it sound like I have only one," Arthur muttered as he crossed his arms in irritation. "As a makeup artist, especially one with my skill and versatility—"

"Yeah, you're busy with multiple sets," Francis chuckled. "You'd think I would know that, being your manager and all. Most artists don't even have managers, Arthur. That in and of itself should be a testament to your popular demand."

Francis took the time to glance over briefly, a ghost of a mischievous smile upon his thin lips. "I have a feeling though, mon ami, that after you learn who it is, you'll see that won't have the time to work for anyone else... and I'm quite sure the actor won't let you, either." Francis was almost glowing with the joy of his inside joke. "The man likes exclusivity."

Arthur's curiosity betrayed himself as he struggled to be silently disgruntled at all the secrecy. He wanted to ignore the manager and lay it on thick just how much he was unhappy with the situation, but after a moment of great effort not to do so, Arthur ended up shooting Francis a questioning look.

"I'm betting you're not going to tell me who it is if I ask again, are you?" the artist asked exasperatedly. This car ride seemed far longer than the ten minutes his watch told him it had been so far.

"Seven-hundredth time is not the charm, non," Francis replied, smiling as he turned the wheel to head down yet another wide road. The Frenchman liked car rides around Hollywood, if only because it gave him plenty of ideas for ostentatious living when he would be rich enough to do so.

Notice, it wasn't an "if." Francis always had big plans, and judging from the way Arthur's career was going, these plans could become reality quite soon.

"Just enjoy the ride, mon ami," the manager murmured soothingly as he glanced up to check his rearview mirror. "We're almost there."

The English artist sighed and slumped down ever so slightly in his seat, shaking his head. He turned to look out his side window, sure that he would have strangled Francis by now if the man wasn't in charge of getting them where they needed to go. As much as Arthur was already angry with how the day was going, and as much as he hated the games that Francis liked to play, Arthur was a professional above all.

And professionals knew when to not commit murder on annoying French idiots.

It seemed that Francis had been speaking the truth, however, for soon they were turning into the filming area of Sunflower Studios, one of the busiest and most bustling locations in all of Hollywood. It was home to a variety of movie sets, and was in a constant hubbub as multiple productions often filmed there at once.

Arthur sat up when he recognized where they were, his irritation temporarily forgotten. Sunflower was home to the best of the best—movies, actors, producers, anything and everything. Makeup artists included. Arthur could practically smell the money in the air, and if this was where his job was to be, it was likely then that a good chunk of that green would end up floating right into his pocket.

Of course, it wasn't as if being an average makeup artist paid much, and making a living on it was a far cry from easy. But that was the thing about Hollywood, wasn't it? No one here ever settled on just "average," least of all Arthur Kirkland, artist extraordinaire.