INVISIBLE STRING ― pedro pascal

-MESSAGE & REAL LIFE

She could see the headline now:

Willow Sandler, STRUGGLES to Keep Her Agent After Tragic Accident

Willow nearly rolled her eyes at the thought.

"We're here to see CC Atkins," she addressed the older woman behind the counter. "I have a meeting."

"Of course, they're waiting for you. Conference room 314."

Confused, Willow narrowed her brows. They?

Frankie guided Willow down the hall and to the elevator, where they stood in silence until they reached the third floor. He gestured for her to leave first and followed quickly behind her, as they headed to the right down another hall.

They passed numerous rooms, all exactly the same with tinted windows and light grey doors: the numbers installed neatly on the outside.

Upon finding Conference Room 314, Willow pushed the door open and stopped at the entrance, eyes widening at the — more than a few people — sitting in the room.

"Uh, hi," she stuttered out lamely, waving her hand awkwardly. "What's up?"

Frankie snorted from next to her and she elbowed his chest. He quieted, but the playful smirk remained on his face.

"Willow, glad you could join us," CC spoke from the head of the squared conference table.

Next to her, sat a blonde male with glasses, and a thick metal-bound notebook, and then a woman with auburn hair and bright blue eyes, and a black binder. Across from her and sat next to CC was a man with speckled brown and silver hair and a matching beard.

Finally, her eyes settled on the man nearest her, and sat next to the man with the speckled beard.

Pedro Pascal.

Brown, lightly waved hair with few salt and pepper bits, not enough to be conventionally "old" but enough to be "harrowed." Eyes that she knew to be dark brown, though they weren't looking at her, rimmed under thick black glasses. A caterpillar mustache of dark brown, matching the roots of his hair.

Willow's confused frown deepened and she gave her agent a wary look.

"I'm—hold on, I'm confused," she laughed nervously. "What's going on? Is this a Mandalorian thing? I thought I had that, I already promoted it and everything. We've gone through this—"

"No, no, it's not about that," CC smiled up at her, gesturing next to Pedro. He looked up finally, watching her with a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Uh, okay," she glanced at Frankie, who stood behind her, next to a red-haired man with a clean-shaven face, donning a similar all black outfit to Frankie. That must be Pedro's bodyguard. "Care to explain?"

She asked as she took a seat next to Pedro, stiffening slightly as a strong scent from his cologne washed over her. She couldn't make out much, except a hint of bergamot that flooded her nostrils and filled her with an overwhelming sense of familiarity.

"I've been in contact with Jason here," CC spoke up, smiling at the man sitting in between her and Pedro. "He's Pedro's agent. We've come up with a plan to boost his ratings, which are...fair, to say the least. But after the Mandalorian finale last year, he's been at a solid medium. You, however, have immense popularity, practically since you were born."