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Contrary to Vincent Rogers's childhood belief, acting was most definitely not an easy job. But it was something that he loved doing. Even if he ended up going home at 9 in the morning, exhausted, wanting nothing more than to take a hot shower and lie on his soft, soft mattress.
Screw that. As of the moment, he only wanted to finally crash and just fucking sleep, dammit.
In his tiredness, he didn't notice that the lights inside were turned on. He unlocked the door, yawning as he did so.
It was only when his eyes opened, heavy with drowsiness, that he realized that half of his stuff was missing.
Heart pounding, he scanned the entirety of his house (all three floors), his exhaustion dissipating. The whole place was a mess: In his bedroom, his sheets were strewn across the floor, his clothes harshly removed from his closet, lying on a messy pile on the bed, some even on the ceiling fan. In the bathroom, his essentials were everywhere. In the pantry, the shelves were all broken and food was on the floor. His back door was opened with force, separated from its hinges.
Hands shaking, he called his manager. ". . . M-my things are everywhere, and- and-" he was saying, lips trembling. "What should I do?"
"Call the cops, you idiot. What the hell? I'll be there ASAP." He hung up.
"Right. Call the cops. Call the-" But his fingers dialled a number he knew all too well.
"What?"
"Rosa." Despite himself, his voice was filled with relief. Carefully, he explained the situation to her.
"Alright. We'll be there."
And be there they did.
Not long, Vincent heard sirens nearing. He stayed in the steps of his front porch, chewing on his lip nervously, his door wide open.
When Rosa and another cop was in front of him, he stood up to greet them.
The man with Rosa gasped before Vincent could even speak. "Rosa!" he said. "Why didn't you tell me we were meeting an actor? Of one of the most famous cop shows, no less!"
"Because I knew you wouldn't shut up about it," answered Rosa.
But the detective paid her no heed. "I can't believe you, Detective Diaz! You really had the audacity to keep this very important information from me. Me - the greatest detective to have lived!"
"No."
"No? Okay." Finally, they turned to Vincent, who was watching their exchange, half fascinated, half confused. "Hello, there Mr. Vincent Rogers, husband of Steve Rogers. Haha, just kidding."
"What?" Vincent asked, puzzled.
"Steve Rogers? Steven Grant Rogers? Captain America? Chris Evans, the most attractive man in the face of the earth? Bucky's boyfriend?"
