The rate for his services was high. His quality was high. His acting skills were good enough that he could be a completely different person, and you'd never know.
However, the role he was least comfortable playing was Oliver.
Oliver Addams was a b...
"How many calories are in that guy's Panda Express bowl?" I nod my head over to the decently fit man who is eating the bowl of Chinese food.
Since Cal seems to have extensive knowledge of the calorie count of items at the food court, I've spent the last twenty minutes pointing out random people and their meals. I pulled google up on my phone to fact-check him, and I walked up to the counter at a couple of restaurants to ask for the number of calories inside their items.
"Depending on what he has in it and what types of sauces he got, it's probably around 300? Maybe less?" Cal sounds a bit unsure, unlike every other restaurant. The only thing he bought when we got pretzels, or more correctly, the only thing he purchased for himself, was water. Cal took a sip from it. "However, that large Powerade that he's gulping down as if his life depends on it is 310."
"Do you not like Asian food, or do you just not like their bowls?" I asked, quirking my head to the side a bit as I did so.
Cal blinks in confusion for a second before saying, "Oliver, I'm Asian."
"I, uh, um-" I stumble over whatever phrase I was trying to say to make it seem like I'm not one of those people who pretend they can't see race but don't let their kids play with the African American kids down the street. Then, before whatever word vomit I was trying to regurgitate could leave my mouth, Cal cut me off with his uncontrollable laughter.
"Is it the accent? Were you not aware that there are Asians in Britain as well?" His laughter was gone completely, but there was still the glow on his face that humor leaves behind.
"No, I'm not stupid, Cal." I roll my eyes at him and take a sip of my lemonade.
Cal leans in close, bracing himself on one of his elbows. He reaches his hand out and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. Suddenly, I'm more than happy with the length of my hair. Weird, right?
Cal's close enough that if he moved in just a bit closer, his lips would brush mine ever so slightly. My breath hitches and I watch as a smile tugs at the side of his lips.
"You know. For someone with so much acting experience, and such a wide variety of it, too, you'd think you'd have an easier time keeping your emotions in check. Perhaps, I make you lose your composure." I swear on whatever deity is pulling the strings of my life that his voice dropped and became huskier than corn. If I was standing, I would have fallen down. If was a female, a baby would have fallen out of me, purely from the sound of his voice. If I was- well, you get the point.
"Or maybe your just an asshole who doesn't deserve my highest acting skills?" I grumble, shoveling a few of my cinnamon pretzels into my mouth. We're still very close, not close enough to accidentally kiss if one of us moves too suddenly.
"Now, now. Maybe we should be a little bit nicer to the man who's currently housing and feeding you. Huh?" He gives my face a pat in the most awkward way.
Cal pulls away from me, but not before snagging pretzel from my cup.
I open my mouth in shock. Cal's response is a look of utter confusion. With the number of things that have confused this guy today, you'd never think he'd be allowed to have adult-money. Let alone be a billionaire.
"What?"
"Do you not remember the conversation we had less than an hour ago about the fact that you think these glorious little bites of heaven are basically poison? Did you dissociate during that entire conversation? God damn." I laugh, finishing my lemonade.
"You know, I actually wasn't dissociating then," Cal says this so matter-of-factly.
"Why, do you dissociate often?" I ask. I would love to dive into the p
"You know, I would definitely prefer to discuss the state of my mental health in any place that isn't a mall food court," Cal asks, running a hand through his hair, trying to make it seem like he's not as nervous as he is. And as he's pointed out, I am an actor, which is the term I would like to use to refer to myself, thank you very much. As an actor, I know all the tricks for blending into different personalities and ways of behaving, but how does he know them.
"Ah, alright. Wanna discuss it in a Spencer's?" I ask, pointing toward the direction of the mall's Spencer's Gifts. Come to think of it, I've never seen Spencer's outside of a mall. That and Claire's. I've never seen a Claire's that wasn't in a mall and filled with queers and children.
"Please, if I wanted people to think I was not well-off, I wouldn't have gotten rich. Also, what are you, a teenager?" Cal sits back further in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest.
"A, rude, I do have feelings. B, have you ever bought anything from a Spencer's? It is not cheap. Finally, if I were a teenager, you'd be a pedophile." I shoot him a smug smile as I feel as though I won the argument.
"Well, at least I'm not a whore." He throws his hands up. I can't tell if he thinks that's funny or if he is purposefully being an asshole. Cal has a slight smirk on his face. This makes me think he's under the idealogy that slut-shaming me is now becoming part of the fun banter we were having.
"Least I didn't need to hire an escort because I couldn't get myself significant other who is, you know, real," I grumble, standing up. My pretzels are gone. There is no reason for me to take this. "I think I'll take a cab back to your mansion. Go spend some time in Spencer's reflecting on your choice words." I start to walk away from him.
I hear Cal's chair scrape against the mall's tiled floor. His hand catches my wrist, and my stupid noodle arms are unable to pull me away. Push-ups? I can do those. Lifting actual weights? No. Unfortunate weight-lifting might have been helpful today.
"Oh, come on. It was a joke. Did you not find it funny?" Cal's eyes are searching my face as if he can't acting tell why I'm storming off.
I let out a scoff. "Yeah, I found it hilarious. That's why I'm storming away, because of the pure hilarity of the situation."
Y'all I am so sorry. I normally don't take this long to update. I am writing this and another book during the peak of musical season. Tech week is in about three weeks though so the updates will become more consistent was we're finished. Anyways, love to you. Be gay, do crimes, and watch cartoons. Enjoy spring (or whatever season it currently is for you)!
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