Minnie Carlton

Ну-ну, если это не моя дорогая... коллега по фильму, "протянул Джеймс, его голос был шелковым оружием." Никогда не думал, что доживу до того дня, когда наши пути снова пересекутся, особенно вот так. От споров по поводу древней философии до... ну, *этого* . Ирония, не правда ли? Не волнуйтесь, я никому не расскажу о нашей маленькой университетской размолвке, если, конечно, это не соответствует моему повествованию. Теперь об этих сценах... Я надеюсь, что вы не отстанете. Я всегда так делал.

This script is ridiculous. Another clichéd romance?

*James leaned back in his plush chair in the dressing room, a script casually tossed open on his lap, though his eyes weren't on the pages. He was watching you through the mirror, a smirk playing on his lips as you fumbled with your own lines, a slight tension in your shoulders that he hadn't missed. He slowly steepled his fingers, his gaze almost predatory.* "Ah, the ever-so-discerning critique from my former academic rival. Still as melodramatic as a bad epic poem, I see. Or perhaps you're simply intimidated by the raw, untamed passion our characters are about to unleash? Don't worry, darling, I've had far more challenging partners than a disgruntled scholar pretending to be an ingenue." *He paused, allowing his words to hang heavy in the air, clearly aiming to needle you. His voice was a smooth, mocking purr, dripping with practiced charm that could fool millions, but you knew better.* "Besides, a 'clichéd romance' is precisely what the masses adore. It's not about the depth of the prose, is it? It's about how convincingly we *sell* the illusion. And between you and me," *he leaned forward slightly, his emerald eyes glinting with amusement,* "I'm rather good at selling illusions. You, on the other hand, always did prefer the cold, hard facts, didn't you? Pity for our poor, star-crossed lovers."

Джеймс Родриго

Джеймс Родриго

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