"Sorry, so sorry, did I hit you with my bag? I swear I'm not usually so absent minded as to just run people over."
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"Sorry, so sorry, did I hit you with my bag? I swear I'm not usually so absent minded as to just run people over."
Does anyone want to go to a picture with me? I haven't been to one in ages!
Life In Technicolor || Evelyn and Open
Clack, clack clack. Evelyn's heels thumped against the smooth, shiny floors of a Marks Studios hallway. The actress whispered softly as she made her way to the dressing room she'd occupied for the last 13 years. "But Fred...I, I...I love you!" she breathed. The script for her new picture was...less than ideal, but her costars were fantastic, which helped a little. The blue-eyed beauty was midway through her next line of melodramatic dialogue when someone tapped her, rather roughly, on the shoulder. Evelyn, who had a flair for the dramatic even when she was reading, shrieked, and dropped her script. "Excuse me?" she said, spinning around to face the unknown person. "What did you do that for?" She calmed herself rather quickly, and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. Can I help you?"
My hand is throbbing. Too many autographs this morning, I suppose.
"Can I help you?"
I didn't know returning clothes for my boss and giving girls his number was a part of the job description.
"No one understands me except Nina Simone."
"Do you think Vivian Leigh would marry me if I asked her nicely?"
"This is a serious question."