Present RP: I just called to say...
DATE/TIME: 12th September 2007, evening
CHARACTERS: Tracey Davis and Mandy Brocklehurst
PLACE: London
RATING: G
STATUS: Complete
Rubbing his eyes tiredly after re-reading his manuscript for the umpteenth time, Tracey set it aside and reached for his glass of Bordeux. Getting up to wander over to the baby grand piano that sat in one corner of the room, he brushed light fingertips over the the keys in an idle sort of fashion for a few minutes and then abruptly stopped. He felt quite restless for no good reason except that he was in the middle of probably the longest break he'd ever taken in his professional career.
Normally, he didn't complain one bit about having time off as it gave him an opportunity to be a regular person again. One that didn't live on a schedule of a cruel mistress called the entertainment industry. He could do whatever he wished: stay up all night and sleep in until midday; read one of the books that filled the tall bookshelf to his right; have a jog through Regents Park or finally get around to seeing the latest foreign film at BFI Southbank.
But none of those things seemed to pique his interest right now. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
Until an idea occurred to him while draining his wine glass. Smiling broadly now, Tracey grabbed his mobile and headed back to the sofa that had been his workplace for the better part of the day.
Owl post really wasn't his preferred method of communication anymore. Not when one had the ability to simply pick up a telephone and dial a series of numbers. Besides, keeping an owl around a flat he hardly lived in meant a lot of unnecessary mess - not to mention trying to explain the nocturnal pet to Muggle acquaintances who just happened to drop by without prior warning.
Scrolling down the list of numbers until he landed upon the right one, Tracey flicked his thumbnail against a button before pressing the mobe to his ear.
One ring, then two, then another... and another. "Odd," he murmured to himself, and glanced at his watch; not quite 9 o'clock.
She wouldn't be asleep yet, would she?
CHARACTERS: Tracey Davis and Mandy Brocklehurst
PLACE: London
RATING: G
STATUS: Complete
Rubbing his eyes tiredly after re-reading his manuscript for the umpteenth time, Tracey set it aside and reached for his glass of Bordeux. Getting up to wander over to the baby grand piano that sat in one corner of the room, he brushed light fingertips over the the keys in an idle sort of fashion for a few minutes and then abruptly stopped. He felt quite restless for no good reason except that he was in the middle of probably the longest break he'd ever taken in his professional career.
Normally, he didn't complain one bit about having time off as it gave him an opportunity to be a regular person again. One that didn't live on a schedule of a cruel mistress called the entertainment industry. He could do whatever he wished: stay up all night and sleep in until midday; read one of the books that filled the tall bookshelf to his right; have a jog through Regents Park or finally get around to seeing the latest foreign film at BFI Southbank.
But none of those things seemed to pique his interest right now. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
Until an idea occurred to him while draining his wine glass. Smiling broadly now, Tracey grabbed his mobile and headed back to the sofa that had been his workplace for the better part of the day.
Owl post really wasn't his preferred method of communication anymore. Not when one had the ability to simply pick up a telephone and dial a series of numbers. Besides, keeping an owl around a flat he hardly lived in meant a lot of unnecessary mess - not to mention trying to explain the nocturnal pet to Muggle acquaintances who just happened to drop by without prior warning.
Scrolling down the list of numbers until he landed upon the right one, Tracey flicked his thumbnail against a button before pressing the mobe to his ear.
One ring, then two, then another... and another. "Odd," he murmured to himself, and glanced at his watch; not quite 9 o'clock.
She wouldn't be asleep yet, would she?