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Terence

“I’m telling you, listen, he’s useless. He’s inert,” hisses Annabeth. “You’re not going to make him into a real actor with a few lightbulbs!”

“One of the things you’ll learn about this town is it’s all appearances.” Mo grins. She’s playing cat’s cradle while her assistants scuttle like ants in a skillet. “Lighting is all. That and makeup. Okay, guys, wanna hit it?”

There’s an audible whump as the spots power up. Annabeth drops her clipboard.

Standing there lit like a beacon in the focus of their stares, Terence is pretty bored. He idly thinks about dope, and about doing it.

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