Big Waves

[Blair Da Costa]

Blair stood outside the door to her agent's office. Even now, knocking felt weird to her. Maybe it was because Blair had been coddled most of her life, never really having to worry about being socially polite. Still, she truly felt she'd gotten a lot better than what she had been like when she was younger.

Pursing her lips, Blair closed her fist and raised her hand, offering the door three knocks before her hands went to her hips, waiting for the response coming from the other side.

Blair had burned through a few agents during her career - most of which quit because she was often caught slacking off and taking things less serious than she probably should have. But there were rarely any repercussions offered for her behavior, so she couldn't really see any issues with it.

[Jordan Comstock]

The day was as productive as most others were. It would never be a day that wasn't riddled with some kind of conflict, especially when Jordan held onto the cast she had. From what she knew, there was an appropriate balance between talent and the ridiculous things a person could get up to. It was always unfair, and always swung in favour of such talent. Understanding that made for simpler arguments with the company that dared to try and pull a cover shoot this late in production.

A knock at the door caught her between phone calls, scrawling neat enough notes in the first available page.

"Come in." She called finally, and while there wasn't strain to her voice, there was a kind of tone she only ever took when she was busy. It was the kind that lined itself to two little words to inform whoever was on the other side not to waste her time like it wasn't precious. Then again, she had no idea who was waiting for her in the first place.

[Blair Da Costa]

It was weird, she supposed, the amount of respect she held for the older woman. Especially given how shitty of a client that Blair could be. She was old enough to know better, yet had the mentality of a stubborn sixteen year old.

She heard the voice and with a quick draw of breath, Blair reached for the handle and pushed the door open. "Good day," she started, her brows furrowing momentarily. "Ma'am," she added quickly, a light sheepish smile touching upon her lips.

[Jordan Comstock]

There wasn't much delay between her own acceptance and someone walking through the door. But Jordan didn't immediately look up, instead she kept her focus to the final notes she was leaving on the current paper at her desk. She heard the voice, and it took her no time to piece together who it was. She looked up, then.

"Darling," She greeted, a warm smile replacing the feigned one she had previously prepared.

Raising a hand, she indicated to the chair across from her desk, "Have a seat." She offered, and she turned her attention back to her work for a spare set of seconds. Then she closed the proverbial book, hands linking together and pressing down on the desk itself.

"What can I do for you?"

[Blair Da Costa]

Had Blair been any smarter, she'd perhaps have felt a little more intimidated by the woman sitting in front of her. Well, at least the previous intimidation would have continued even after the warm smile that was presented to her.

But then again, Blair was hardly the brightest bulb in the house.

Blair did as she was told and strolled over to the chair and took a seat, her hands folding as her legs crossed. She looked around for a moment, taking in the oh so familiar view of her agent's office. "Well," she began, dragging the word out. 

"That hair shampoo ad I was offered? I don't want to do it."

[Jordan Comstock]

There was something notable about a rising star-type of person. Something worth paying attention to. Jordan might have had a lot of people she represented, but a soft spot for models would always give her pause, even in the most pressing of moments. It wasn't often that anyone simply stopped by to talk, and that made sense, because time was incredibly precious during the day.

In short, she knew something would be wrong.

And now the situation warranted her full attention. Really.

Tilting her head to the side, she offered a sense of concern with her eyes. Turning down any kind of work was questionable. There better be a good reason for it. "Why not, dear?" She asked lightly, intent to find understanding before she dared to critisise the openly fragile.

[Blair Da Costa]

Acting mature and responsible wasn't something that sat well with the brunette. Nor did serious conversations. Especially not those where she had to put her act together and actually be the serious one.

But she tried her best nonetheless. "One of the other models told me that doing ads like that is asking for a career suicide," she said, licking her bottom lip as she looked at her manager. "I heard it was the lowest of the low - and that only washed up actresses and models do them, because they can't get their hands on anything better."

She surprised herself, considering how little she usually cared about her reputation.

[Jordan Comstock]

As she listened, Jordan did her best to remain as neutral as possible. There were a myriad of responses shooting off in her head, and primarily they all concerned the fact that she had always assumed this was a non-issue. But here they were, discussing it like this girl didn't have a boatload of negative antics to her name with it came to a questionable reputation.

Okay. Sure. She could work with that. Her hands pulled apart again as she leaned back in her seat, not quite amused but definitely settled somewhere out of the naturally serious.

"Well, there are a few things to consider." Jordan proposed, lips pursed to keep herself from smiling in any way. "One might be that whoever this person is is only interested in deterring your career to try and keep their own sinking one afloat." After all, paid work was paid work, and if it was at least creditable then what was the real harm? "Not everyone wants to see you shine so brightly, dear."

[Blair Da Costa]

Stubbornly, Blair looked down at her feet, her fingers lacing together. She could feel the defiance burn inside her chest, but she also knew better than to throw a tantrum in front of her agent. Nodding slightly, Blair lifted her gaze. "I guess," she muttered silently. She didn't want to agree with her, because surely, no one wanted to cause Blair any harm. The idea was nearly impossible for the brunette to comprehend, but then again, she had been known for being naive more than once.

"So you think I should take it?" she asked then, uncertainty lacing her voice. It didn't feel right, but Blair was a sucker for the once superior to her. Especially someone that held such a weight as her agent. Not that she'd ever admit to it, of course. No, her defiant nature would scream and kick.

[Jordan Comstock]

Jordan laughed very lightly at the simpler nature of the response she got. She was hardly about to mock the young model, but she also wasn't willing to place the concept and her failure in the same sentence. "If Selena Gomez can be the face of Pantene and not implode, surely it can't be that bad." She explained. If nothing else, some kind of reference might put a weary mind at ease.

"I'd like to see you shine brightly." Jordan reassured her, then. It was the greatest level of confidence she could give someone who shrunk themselves to be so small in her presence. Constant reassurance was necessary for those that made a living off their face.

"And given the publicity that swarms around you, something mundane might be a nice way to settle the edge."