Have you tried to say those words?” Ian knew how bad the scripts were, they had made him cringe the few times he had watched.

“But as I see it,” he responded truthfully, “any one who can say that garbage in those ridiculous plotlines and make it, sound like normal conversation has talent. Prime example, how long has your character been tied up in that basement naked?”

Seven laughed, “I get your point. I don’t understand why I’m naked, other than the fact that there is only one shirt in my character’s wardrobe.”

“See…” Ian pointed at him, “Talent…and hard abs don’t hurt.”

The rest of the afternoon was a conglomerate of conversations and food. Although the guest list amounted to a broad spectrum of the people next door and the industry powerful, it was a great combination. Friendships were made and the day was filled with laughter and family.

Ian found himself sitting on “the chaise” conversing with Trampus Scott and Jeremy Tyson. The day had been surprisingly little shoptalk, and delightfully about normal things that guys would talk about. Jeremy wanted to know how many “birds” Ian had bagged after he left the club last night and Trampus kept trying to light cigarettes that Tippy would grab out of his mouth and throw in the trash can.

“Dammit, Tippy, where can a guy go to get a smoke around here?”

Tippy batted her eyes at him, “Next door? Is that okay, Baby Doll?”

“Sure Tippy, me casa, su smoking lounge!”

“That’s my boy.”

“Com’mon, Trampus, I could use one myself,” Ian hoisted himself up off the chaise, checked to make sure his phone was still in his pocket. “Follow me boys and fellow nicotine addicts.” As Ian walked through the trees he could hear Tippy bellow, “And if you got another cheesecake, bring it back with ya!”

In a matter of seconds, Ian, Trampus, Jeremy and Seven where all in Ian’s yard and desperately pulling out their brand of cancer stick.

“Man that tastes almost as good as those baked beans…” Trampus sighed as he released a thick cloud from his lungs.

Ian tripped up the balcony to get a second ashtray. “Make yourselves at home guys,” Ian said since they already had.

“Shit, mate,” Jeremy said looking at Ian, “I can’t believe you don’t fucking sing for a living. You could be huge!”

“Not interested.”

“Why not? You’d get all the pussy you wanted, a probably some dick if that’s what you were in the mood for.” He chirped.

“Not everyone’s a hound like you, Jer,” Trampus said as he took another puff.

Seven noticed that Jeremy wasn’t smoking and offered him one of his, “You wanna a smoke?”

He waved his hand, “Naw, thanks though, mate. I promised Suzie that I wouldn’t.”

“You are so whipped.” Trampus teased.

“Yes. I am.” He agreed without hesitation, “but it has its benefits.” He added with a throaty laugh. “I can barely walk this morning.”

“Got lucky last night, did ya?” Trampus’ eyebrow went up.

“Oh hell, yeah, after Ian’s little performance last night, I doubt that any one there didn’t get lucky. Shit, Suzie was so turned on she sucked me off in the car on the way home. I almost ran