#this is awful KSJDGNkj my first reply was better

[rawrymonahan]

Austin is late. Running late for whatever excuse he could fish out of thin air. Right now, it’s traffic— the bustling Los Angeles traffic, always a fine excuse, though entirely predictable. He can always tell the truth, about how he slept in twenty minutes late, and he wasn’t about to skip a single step of getting ready for rehearsal. Whatever he’s going to end up telling the crew, the crew of assistant directors and actors who were currently waiting impatiently for Austin’s arrival, will fall naturally from the tongue whenever he gets there. It’s thirty minutes past the start time when he finally drives up to the theater, digging through his center console once parked and pulls out his little pouch of black pills. He knows it’s not Provincetown, that taking the muse whilst out west would probably end very poorly for him, but still— he can’t help it. He’s addicted to the success and if it can help him direct as much as it can help him write well… it didn’t really matter that he’s late— or unprepared. He pops the black pill past his lips, swallows it dry before getting out. He stretches, his striped black and white button-up pulling up to expose some thick hairs kissing his stomach, though it’s not like he’s not exposed to the world already. Adorning some black dress pants, Austin also wears his shirt unbuttoned to just above his belly button, chest out in the open while several necklaces drape around his neck. It’s his standard at this point. He walks into the theater, pushing the big, blue doors of the auditorium open with a wide smile. “Terribly sorry, my loves!” he calls out as he walks down the isle between rows and rows of navy upholstered seats, “Los Angeles traffic is an utter hell— but, now that I’m here, we can get this party started, huh? Let’s introduce ourselves, shall we? I’m Austin Sommers, but you all already know that…” He can feel all eyes on him, just how he likes it, as he crosses to sit in on the front row seats, immediately crossing his legs, “can I have each one of you step forward and introduce yourselves? It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen all your beautiful faces in those casting videos.”

@bloodsuckinsommers

Today had been eventful already, and it was still early in the morning. Not that Rory really minded, excitement brewing in his veins, with an underlying sense of nerves, on top of the cold brew coffee he had downed on the way here. He needed all he could get though, his first day on set, getting ready for a show directed by the one and only Austin Sommers. Sure, Rory spent most of his time on television, in front of cameras, the whole shebang but he wasn't complaining one bit- getting to be under the hot lights of the theater and get to perform live in front of an audience was something he'd always cherished, and getting to work under a brilliant director was only the cherry on top. Who, every other actor and assistant director had been waiting for at least for a solid thirty minutes, leaving everyone frustrated, pacing around the auditorium walkways and the stage Rory was currently sat on, swinging his feet until the great, big double doors open revealing the man in question, confident as he struts down the isle and plops himself down in a front row seat, right in front of him, apologizing, though halfheartedly, Rory thinks. Thinks, because he truthfully isn't paying much attention to what the other man is saying because he's too busy taking in the grin stretched out across his cheeks and dark eyes, ones that barely even rake over the auditorium as he makes himself known. And he's trying desperately not to let his eyes move south, to take in the other man's outfit, to the button up revealing a chest decorated with an abundance of jewelry and wisps of hair. He does however catch a bit of what Austin says, and then it's silent for a moment as everyone stops, now timid for whatever reason, leaving Rory to pull his feet up, clambering up to a standing position, a matching grin meeting Austin's, his cheeks flushing just the slightest bit as he straightens out his beloved white and blue baseball tee. "So much for getting the party started, huh? Well,, it's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Sommers. I'm Rory Monahan."

@bloodsuckinsommers

#this is awful KSJDGNkj my first reply was better #i hate tumblr sometimes