The Trash Bin of Cliches

This is a series of shorts about the life of established author, Willow Parker.

Whilst living in London with her best friend Kennedy, Willow gets writer's block. Something she deals with by getting, what was supposed to be a temp job, at The Agency: a company that is invested in a bunch of media industry fields. While helping out with a photo shoot Willow meets one of the world's most coveted bachelors, Sawyer Huntington, one of the boys from the internationally popular group Once Upon.

Thanks to one of her new model friends, Yvonne, Sawyer gets his hooks into her and she wakes up after a night of partying with someone else's boxers on. After that it's one thing after another, starting again when Once Upon books their new music video shoot with The Agency. When she is mistaken for an extra and Sawyer picks her to play the opposing role in his scene, sparks fly, now all Willow has to do is try not to catch fire.

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3. Denial With a Side of Jealousy: 23rd Septemeber 2011

 

Max is swinging a cat toy around following closely behind Sawyer as he walks around the dressing room phone in hand.

“Eyuh!” he lifts his leg up and the cat toy wraps around his shoe.   

“Hey!” Max says, huge smile on his face as he looks at the phone still clutched in Sawyer’s hand, “What did you do that for?”   

“Because you were being an annoying, Ellie not texting you back yet?”  

“You’re one to talk. You are liable to ware a whole through the floor with that pacing and she‘s not even your girl.”  

“You don’t know who I’m texting,” Sawyer crosses his arms stubbornly and Max swears the man is this close to sticking out his tongue.   

“I’m fairly sure you need to give them time to reply, I reckon texts don‘t send that quickly, let alone internationally. You‘re beginning to look like Digger when Ellie doesn‘t give him a treat after dinner. What happened to the guy cheekily flirting with all the models yesterday?”  

“I do not, and do you see any models here?”  

“No, but you could easily find some, we are in the Vogue photography department.”  

“It’s not like that.”  

“Yeah, of course it isn’t.”  

“It’s not.”  

“Alright.”  

“Well, good then,” but his phone beeps and Sawyer seems to twitch towards answering it. Max eyes him knowingly, smirking, Sawyer wasn‘t answering the text because he was still looking at him.  

“You going to answer that mate? Seemed quite important a few seconds ago.”  

“She’s a friend.”  

“One you just happen to kiss from time to time. Just answer it, I’ll just be out in the hall, getting some air, texting my girlfriend, and totally not judging. Not even when I know as soon as I leave you‘re going to pull out that phone as if your life depends on it.”  

“Am not.”  

“Sure mate, whatever you say,” Max winked and blew a kiss before spinning on his heel and walking out the door. Silently chuckling at the sound of ruffling fabric as the door closed behind him.  

Sawyer looked at the text and felt a stone sink into his stomach, Max would have totally jumped to the conclusion he was jealous, but he wasn‘t; it was probably just indigestion, too many tacos. Yeah that was it. She seemed to be in a hurry to leave, he didn’t want to pry into her business but she said she was getting ready for something. Seemed more important than she led on, certainly more important than talking to him. Well, that sounded more conceited than usual. Did he even have a right to be jealous? Not that he was, cause he wasn‘t, obviously. Was he jealous? No, no, of course not, he made out with a model last night. Granted he didn’t remember her name now, or the fan he slept with last week. He looked at the text again, unsure of whether this whole jealousy thing was some kind of over protective fondness or something far more dangerous; now he was just getting himself worked up. He wasn’t responsible for the feelings of the girls he hooked up with, they eventually got over it and he was too busy to mull over every fan who thought he was falling for them because he was practicing basic human decency by being nice the morning after, it was only proper etiquette. Nothing was different about Willow but circumstances of their relationship, originally, he fancied Yvonne, however, Yvonne had been more interested in a female roadie than in him, she was married but he didn’t know that until the night at the club. He was too preoccupied teasing the writer-roadie anyways.   

Will was a friend, he liked her, but he liked a lot of people. He had no right to be jealous, she went on dates, he hooked-up with people. Though at the thought of her date getting a happy ending he hadn’t gotten yet, his stomach twisted into a knot spun tighter than a spool of thread. Why hadn’t he made a move? He knew better than most blokes how to charm a girl into bed, obviously. But he didn’t do anything more with Will, he cared; of course he cared, she was a friend. He had no right to be jealous, he would repeat that inside his head until the knot in his stomach loosened. It didn’t, not for the rest of the day.  

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