thatplainolivia:

Olivia’s eyes grew wide as she recognized what he was saying. “Oh! Brick by Brick!” she exclaimed, looking at Jame’s face more intently. She knew she had recognized his face from somewhere, she just couldn’t quite put a finger where. Now that he mentioned it, she did happen to see him every once in a while, when she had the chance to sit down and watch television. “I’m not a big TV watcher, but yes, I have seen you there!”

All of a sudden, she felt inferior to his state. James had seemed to have quite a life, what with being in show business. Olivia almost amounted to nothing compared to him, and the thought made her blush. “Yes, lettuce,” she said, walking around the kitchen but keeping her eyes on him. “Well, you seem to have quite the life, I suppose,” she said with a slight chuckle “how does it feel to have fans running after you?”

He returned to the counter, holding one up with a playful, triumphant smile.  “They’re just reruns now… “  James sighed, mostly out of relief, as he began peeling a few leaves off the head of lettuce.  “I haven’t quite had that feeling for awhile.  As the story goes, I became a … recluse… after me fian—ehm, girlfriend left.”

It wasn’t a subject he liked to talk about, but it was one he would have to come to terms with.  Julianne was in this town, perfectly fine.  He had to be perfectly fine as well.  That situation, however, was a prime example of why celebrities hated the fame at times.

“I think next time ‘round, I’d prefer a relationship a bit more low profile.  So rabid fans would have to be off the list, unfortunately.”  James gave a chuckle. 

It was pleasant to find her company less-than-stressful.  As quiet as she was, it made it easier to talk to her without feeling so… judged.  Serenity in people was often undersold, as well. 

thatplainolivia:

Olivia shrugged her shoulders at his question, wondering why he was so curious. She was not one who considered her life interesting; not many people bothered to ask about her. “I worked for the Nevaro Industries,” she said nonchalantly. “Buildings, and all that stuff. I was the secretary of the head, so I run around fixing his schedules, basically.” She chuckled a little at this thought, glad that she was free from doing that whilst she was here.

She looked at him intently as he offered ingredients for a sandwich. “Both will be lovely, yes?” she said, smiling. Olivia walked over to him, grabbing the ingredients. “Would you like me to do them, or you?” she asked, already searching the place where she could find bread. “What did you do before you came here? Job, anything?”

“Sounds like quite the task,” he said, nodding mildly as she spoke.  He took out a cutting board and began slicing the chicken breast.  It wasn’t that James was unimpressed—not at all.  He just felt that Olivia undersold herself.  If there was anything he learned in the business, it was that people only saw as much as you gave.  Though, that wasn’t his favorite aspect of his career… so perhaps underselling was a good thing.

“I’m … well.  I was on a hiatus,” he said, feeling a bit abashed.  Luckily, he could keep his eyes on the cutting board.  “I think I’m a bit more famous back home, but I was on that show, Brick By Brick? When I was younger at least.”  He coughed awkwardly, not wanting to oversell himself, given his conversational partner at the moment.  “Then I did a few films, some theatre.  Music.”  He sighed.  “I’m a dabbler, I s’pose.”

That is going to make you sound like an ass hole, he scolded himself mentally.  Still, James offered a shaky smile before taking the next opportunity to bury his face in the fridge.  “Lettuce?” he called.

thatplainolivia:

Alexis laughed at James’ attempt at trying to impress her with the dinner lady. “Oh, it doesn’t really matter. I think I can make a few sandwiches on my own without a dinner lady.” She smiled as they reach the kitchen, noticing the clean surroundings. She had never quite seen a kitchen such as lovely as this. 

James had an easy smile, making him easy to trust. His smile made it easy to be around him. “Oh, I received this letter one day while I was cleaning my desk at the office,” she furrowed her eyebrows, remembering the day. “It had my name written on it, inviting me here. And tada! Here I am!” She put her hands out and waved them as a gesture to match her ‘tada’. “How about yourself?”

He made a show of opening each of the cabinets, a silent direction as to where all the things were kept.  When he arrived at the plates cupboard, James took out two and placed them on the counter.  After, he took a pause to scratch his hair.  “Ehm, I were looking for someone ‘round here.  And so I was living in at a hotel nearby, and I kept running into some of his… staff.  Eventually, they gave me an invite.”  He chuckled uneasily.  “This definitely beats out a hotel, so I came.”

James nodded to himself as reassurance that he had given a sufficient answer.  She could mull on that while he got out some ingredients for a sandwich.  “Turkey or chicken?” he asked, holding up both packages.

After another moment’s thought, he shook his head and brought both over.  “Why not both, eh?”  He went to grab more bread, calling over his shoulder, “What kind of office did you work at?”

richardevansmd:

I know. I meant for it to lighten up my seriousness. But you’re welcome anyway. 

Ohhh, no, no. I exclusively heal physique. And I’m okay with that. It’s enough for me, y’know? The only thing I consider myself great at. It helps that it’s a good profession in nearly every aspect. 

But, we should definitely continue this another time, I’m nearly asleep! I’m surprised you haven’t passed out either. 

Well, it worked well.

I’ve been working on a few lyrics, so I haven’t hit the hay just yet.  But you sleep well, man.

Cheers!

richardevansmd:

You shouldn’t think that, James. You’re famous for a reason. Someone is listening to your music right now, and maybe it’s even saved their life. So I’m sure you’ve saved as many lives as I have, if not more. 

People like to listen to music more than medical advice, trust me. Music speaks to the soul. You’re a soul whisperer. 

…

I’m sorry, mate. Sorry.  I don’t mean to laugh, but the soul whisperer bit…

Nahh, but really. Made me feel a bit better—I was down without realizing it.  So thank you.  Now ‘bout you, mate—maybe you heal more than just … physique.  You see?

richardevansmd:

You know, people say it like it’s a curse. Sterile white walls. While the hospital can be a bit brutal, especially when the prognosis is not a happy one, I have found that the potential of good news very much outweighs the bad. And the bright white hallways are home to me. 

But this is my…our home now, so I better get used to the fancy crown molding and decorative chandeliers. Remember, if you need anything just holler and I’m sure I’ll hear you from down the hall. 

That’s admirable.  Your job and all.  I’d imagine it’s much more fulfilling than mine, so cheers to you.

I’ll be sure to remember that!  I hope I can offer you the same—though I’m not sure I’ve got much to offer someone with a medical doctorate.  It must be … gratifying?  Being a doctor, yeah?

richardevansmd

I have no doubt that you have a handle on yourself. 

Just making sure my fellow man here is takin’ things easy. This is a hard game… of life, I mean. I saw it every day at the hospital.

We should definitely have a sit down and drink over a nice discussion sometime. I’d enjoy that. Hell, I probably even need it. 

Contrary to what may be said ‘bout me, I am not a man of self-afflicted ailments.  But I believe you—the sterile white walls are summat I ‘ave not seen, and do not plan to.

Well, my door is just a few away, mate.  Give a knock, and we can… talk. Hah.

elise-p:

We’ve all our vices.  That might just be one of yours, Mr. Garrett.

I’ve grown accustomed to the vile nature of ambition, Mr. Garrett.  It’s not something new to myself;  one must adapt to the adversities, ambition included, that are thrown to them.  I’ve long wielded my sword, but perhaps, I’ve nothing to worry about — it’s those who have yet to pick up theirs that should avoid crossing paths.

You worry about yours and I’ll worry about mine.  What a simple plan, Mr. Garrett.

Think what you will, Elise.  But I don’t think condescension is a proper basis for judging character.  

In the meantime, I’ll be working on my means and going about my simple plans.  Then we can all observe properly that I don’t give a toss whether or not my ambition is showing enough.