Asa Butterfield Imagines

Connections (Part 1)

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I groaned, rolling over in bed towards my phone. Today was a Sunday, why would I need to get up this early?

Opening my eyes, I looked at the time. It was 8 AM. Why did I need to be up for 8 AM? I probably just forgot to turn off the alarm for the weekend. Scrolling through my phone, I looked to find the alarm to turn it off. A message appeared at the top...

To: Anaïs

From: Jane

Thank you so much for taking this interview for me, it means a lot! You're the best!

What? My eyes suddenly widened with realization. The interview! I shot up out of bed, put on my glasses, and ran to the bathroom. I couldn't believe that I forgot about that! I squirted an unhealthy amount of toothpaste onto my brush, quickly trying to brush my teeth. While one hand was brushing my teeth, the other was combing out my hair. I was frantic.

A little over a week ago, my friend Jane found out that her grandfather had fallen ill, and her family was going up to spend his final days with him. But since finals were coming up in a month, all the final projects were underway. Jane had spent months trying to get this interview with this cast from this upcoming movie as their Toronto publicity campaign was only 7 days long. So, I offered to do the interview for her so that she could spend time with her grandfather. If only I could remember!

"Anaïs? What are you doing up so early? Your lectures aren't until 11!" my younger brother called from across the hall.

"I have to do something!" I called back, spitting out the foam. I didn't get a response back, so I safely assumed that he went back to sleep.

Putting on a light coat of mascara, I made my way to the closet. I may as well look good for this. I pulled out a denim jacket, my Captain America shirt, some leggings, and a pair of fake suede heeled boots that I found not too long ago at the thrift store.

Throwing the outfit together, I smiled at myself in the mirror. I looked good. Taking my phone off the bedside table, I checked the time as I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. It was 8:30, I had to hurry. No one was awake, so I quickly grabbed my backpack and shoved it on my shoulder. Going back upstairs, I began to make my mental checklist. I needed Jane's pass for the interview event, which hung over the back of my desk chair. On the lanyard, it read, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. I remember my brother read that book for a book report that year.

I proceeded to toss in a design textbook as well as my laptop for my lecture later today. I plucked Jane's interview questions off my desk, and I ran my eyes through it. It wasn't being filmed, so I could just type out the answers. I was a pretty fast typer, so it wouldn't be a problem.

Zipping up the backpack, I ran down the stairs, almost tripping over the steps. Putting my house keys in my jacket pocket, I walked out of the front door.

The subway was backed up halfway down to the destination, and I was panicking. It was 9:30 and I was still 20 minutes away. The interview is at 10. I tapped my fingers impatiently on my leg. A wave of relief came over me as the train began moving again, finally.

Getting to the hotel, I could see posters upon posters for the movie. Taking a quick look at one of them, I recognised one of them, Asa Butterfield, from Ender's Game. I loved the book, and the movie didn't suck too bad. He wasn't half bad looking. There was a large series of sheets printed across one of the walls for individual interview locations. I quickly looked up Jane's name. I was in Grand Room A, due in 3 minutes. I sprinted down the main hallway, almost bumping into news reporters and other more experienced reporters. Compared to them, I was literally dust; journalism wasn't even my major.