hop inside (come see my movie)
"Hi, uh...George." The customer grins, reading George's nametag. He's American. George isn't exactly sure how he feels about that. His flatmate is American.
But his voice itself, he feels almost certain about. It makes wedding bells, alarm bells, fucking school bells, whatever-some type of bells go off in his head. Something in his brain that tells him: pay attention to whatever the hell this guy is saying. Or what he sounds like when he says it. Whichever.
His voice is equally as deep as it is soft and warm, and it's familiar. Though exactly how, George isn't sure.
spoiler alert: he's a famous actor named dream. george, an employee at a small london bookshop, sells him a book, and they run into each other again, exchanging numbers. as they get to know each other through spilled apple juice, meddling friends, and the watching eyes of the entire world, they learn how to love-or make their best attempt at it, anyway.
