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drfeelbadHouse leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on the edge of the desk, lazily spinning a pen between his fingers. The audition sides sat in front of him, untouched, because he already knew how this was going to go.
Hex—the actor with the ridiculous name and even more ridiculous face—was about to walk in, flash a charming, well-practiced smile, and deliver a passable, if uninspired performance. Then, House would have to decide whether he wanted to hire him on merit or out of sheer spite.
It wasn't even the producer's fondness of Hex that mattered. Nyx was insisting. That was the problem. It was just nepotism with more steps, but damn it, House cared what he thought.
He was also kind of curious if the guy could actually act. And to be frank, someone who looked like him was right for this part.
Hex—the actor with the ridiculous name and even more ridiculous face—was about to walk in, flash a charming, well-practiced smile, and deliver a passable, if uninspired performance. Then, House would have to decide whether he wanted to hire him on merit or out of sheer spite.
It wasn't even the producer's fondness of Hex that mattered. Nyx was insisting. That was the problem. It was just nepotism with more steps, but damn it, House cared what he thought.
He was also kind of curious if the guy could actually act. And to be frank, someone who looked like him was right for this part.
