Amelie's Double-booked Rehearsal Space, Off-Off-Broadway, Sunday Afternoon
Troy leaned back against the wall, wishing there was a convenient hole to crawl into so he could avoid being drawn into the argument currently going on between the director of his latest show -- Amelie Brancourt -- and the director who had, apparently, rented the exact same rehearsal space. For the exact same time.
And who had, in fact, arrived first, even though Amelie's actually booking apparently predated his own.
He glanced down at his phone, wished that he dared wish for it to ring, but that would mean drawing attention to himself. Instead, he silently turned it off and pulled out his script to go over his lines once again. The argument looked like it would be going on for a while. At least the script was good.
[Establishy! Unless you have reason to be in a double-booked rehearsal space in Troy's New York, but even then I'm going to be leaving the coffee shop in about twenty minutes and OMG do I hate not having 'net at home right now.]
And who had, in fact, arrived first, even though Amelie's actually booking apparently predated his own.
He glanced down at his phone, wished that he dared wish for it to ring, but that would mean drawing attention to himself. Instead, he silently turned it off and pulled out his script to go over his lines once again. The argument looked like it would be going on for a while. At least the script was good.
[Establishy! Unless you have reason to be in a double-booked rehearsal space in Troy's New York, but even then I'm going to be leaving the coffee shop in about twenty minutes and OMG do I hate not having 'net at home right now.]