Thread: Hyde and Seek [ Chai & Mr Quixotic ]

RE Hyde and Seek Ariamella Mr Quixotic Kat, you haven't driven that damn car once. You could do something stupid like, oh I don't know, crashing it just like you did with this? Myles had appeared at her room early the next morning to give her the new phone, irritated with her for making him visit ATT the previous night on such short notice. Besides, you have to be at the film location in an hour, so come on . You know I hate being non-punctual. I told you, I'm not going to that. Hannah gave me the day off to see... An acting coach. Trying to get in touch with my sexuality and all that, you know? She wasn't quite sure why she lied to her manager, but she wanted to keep Dr. Miller a secret for now. And you know, I do have a license. I can go places without needing you to drag me around everywhere. I would even say I'm good at driving. Mhmm. Some might say you're 'good' at handling phones, too. Katrina laughed a clear, vibrant sound despite the early hour. I'll take care of myself today. Go and do whatever it is you have to do, and be happy you don't have to play chauffeur. I'm sure my car and I will be fine. The actress ushered him out as he grumbled a few choice words about her being so 'irresponsible' with her time and belongings. Love you too! she called out into the hallway before closing the door. Myles was easily on the list of her most favorite people. Unlike everyone else in the business, he didn't coddle her or treat her any differently as he would any other person just because of her perceived innocence and delicateness. He was almost like a father figure and good friend wrapped up in a single person vastly different from her real dad who had been mostly absent from her life save for the usual large sum of birthday money, or obscenely expensive gift like her car, the sleek black Maybach Exelero. But then, maybe being a foreign exec for a production company gave him an excuse to be a total asshole when it came to his family. Who really knew? It was her closeness to Myles that made her feel slightly bad about lying to him, but Katrina simply couldn't risk anyone finding out about what she'd resorted to for clarity on her acting issues. At least, not yet. She was supposed to be Kat Ellis, the seemingly perfect young woman of Hollywood, so unlike the rest of the starlets who got drunk as fuck at some exclusive club and then needed to talk to someone about all their alcohol dependency issues and boyfriend problems. She wasn't supposed to be that girl who needed to talk to a specialist just to ensure her head didn't get too inflated over fame. She wasn't the type to need a psychiatrist. It's not like she was under any illusions of what Gerald Miller really was -- the 'doctor' in front of his name had given it away -- and after a quick search into Google, it was plainly obvious that Hannah wanted her to see someone to help her sort out all the mental shit going on in her mind. A professional, indeed. Katrina still wasn't sure why she'd agreed to see him, but after waking that morning, it had only taken 10 minutes for the young actress to pick up the hotel line and call. She'd meant to cancel it, but... Maybe a sliver of her mind actually believed that Nicole was to blame for her inability to act. Maybe it was sheer desperation wanting to know why she couldn't act, or maybe desire to know how she could expand her emotional range so that her performances for Hyde and Seek weren't as lifeless as watching paint dry. Whatever the case, she ended up leaving things as they were and ultimately decided to go. It was a wonder Hannah was even able to pull strings to get an appointment in, but there wasn't a doubt in Katrina's mind that she got it simply because of both their Hollywood statuses. -------------------------------------- Dr. Gerald Miller's office, my name is Trish, how can I help you? a feminine voice had answered the phone, clearly tired and slightly irked at the early, 725 AM call. I'd like to cancel an appointment for today? Katrina had responded, clearly aware that it was probably well before the normal office hours. Maybe caller ID came up as the Beverly Wilshire or something. May I take a name? Katrina Binetti. Uhm, Katrina Ellis Binetti? Er, Kat Ellis. Kat Ellis? Katrina had heard the recognition in the woman's voice, though there was no awe or surprise. This kind of thing must not have shocked her anymore, but then that was her job, and Hannah had said that the good doctor had worked with almost every A-lister in town. There had been a long pause, then she heard Trish say, Dr. Miller is scheduled to see you at 100 PM, Katrina. Would you like to cancel it or reschedule? Well... Actually, that's perfect. Thank you. And then she had hung up the phone, not knowing exactly why she'd had her change of heart. -------------------------------------- For once in her life she found it a relief to get something handed to her on a silver platter just because her name meant something to the common household, and at thirty minutes past noon she was in her car and driving up N. Beverly to Sunset Boulevard. His address rang familiar in her mind it was the suburbs of LA where millionaires resided, still within the exclusive and envied 90210 zip code of Beverly Hills. Of course, Katrina shared the same general residence area, but her penthouse condo at Oakhurst was a bit closer to the social scene and shopping centers of the Hills than the mansions and multi-acre land plots where Dr. Miller had his home built. The drive wasn't too bad, only a 20-minute journey from the hotel, and when she neared the address she was only a little bit shocked to find where he resided. After being let in through the front gate, she turned the bass-heavy Beyonc song down from blasting out her windows, getting the feeling that it was disturbing the peacefulness of his estate. Every aspect of the landscaping was immaculate mowed grass just the perfect shade of green covered the ground, well-maintained trees and shrubbery lined the driveway, and, as the home itself came into view, flowered bushes surrounded paved pathways that led around and behind the house. In front, a circular driveway with an elaborate fountain was just a hint of its opulence, and it was a stunning first taste of the home itself. Built in contemporary Mediterranean design that many Californians seemed to favor, it sported off-white stucco walls and reddish-brown roof tiling high, arched windows and white door and window decor. Whoever had it made was obviously a person of great taste, and Katrina couldn't help but admire it for just a moment before turning left on the road to get to his office. As per Trish's instructions, the young woman drove past the tennis courts, multi-car garage, and pool area to get the west wing of the mansion, where the design of the building took a more modern turn. It kept within theme of the home, but the windows were larger and seemed more businesslike than what she had previously encountered. Like any office, it had a small lot outside for parking, and the entire front wall of the west wing was made of floor-to-ceiling glass. Inside she could see a woman at a desk, but other than that it lacked any of the sterile professionalism one might find in the downtown high-rises of LA, where other psychiatrists kept their practices. Hello, Katrina greeted the young woman at the low desk, who was likely only 3 or 4 years older than she was. Looking at her, and the interior decorations that were just as lavish and tasteful as the outside, Kat felt a bit under-dressed. Normally she would have gone to the filming location with full hair and makeup done, already in the dress and heels she would need to wear, but as her day was planned a little differently, she opted in a more casual look. Eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss was all she had used, not bothering to deal with cover-up as her face was clear of most blemishes, and her hair which would have normally been blow-dried and styled to perfection lay tumbling over one shoulder in its natural soft curls. Grey sweatpants hung low at her hips and a white tank top covered her upper half both garments brought attention to her bare midriff and the simple, diamond stud belly button ring -- the one adolescent act she indulged in when she'd turned 18. She was painfully aware that it looked almost like she didn't belong in the ostentatious house, but the woman only looked up at her, smiled, and said, Right through the doors, Ms. Binetti. Switching her gaze to the pair of white French doors made with frosted glass, Katrina flashed a polite smile and murmured, Thank you, before walking forward and stepping through.