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palace_sean and <user site="livejournal.com" user=
Aug. 8th, 2004 12:18 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
palacemiller.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rpg_palace[follows this]
Jonny's been staring at the com for what feels like days. He isn't sure what he's supposed to say, but dammit, he's going into PR. Public relations. Two calls shouldn't be beyond him. But no one had told him that he'd have to deal with people like Sean.
"Get used to it," he mutters. "This is Palace, you twit. If you can't stand the celebrity, then what the fuck are you doing here?"
He nods and swallows hard. Before he can think better of it, he puts in the code Harry had given him.
"Uh. Mr. Bean?" Voice mail. Mixed blessing, since it only pushes off the time he'll have to actually talk to Sean. "My name is Jonny Lee Miller. Mr. Harry Sinclair told me I should make contact with you to talk about, uh, he hired me to help take care of PR, and there'll be a trial period, I know, and he said to talk to you about the length of the period and the extent of my duties and responsibilities." Stop. Breathe. Think. Make a good impression. "I, uh, look forward to working for you, sir. I hope you won't regret it." Of course he'll regret it. You sound like an infant.
Wincing, he puts in the second code. But at least he's not in awe of Liv as he is of Sean. "Ms. Tyler," he begins, amazed that his voice made the jump from squeaky to level in ten seconds flat, "my name is Jonny Lee Miller. Mr. Harry Sinclair said I should get in touch with you about my trial period, working in PR, and about duties I would be assigned to do. Thank you." He clicks it off and drops backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"There you go," he says to himself. "Can't take any of it back."
Jonny's been staring at the com for what feels like days. He isn't sure what he's supposed to say, but dammit, he's going into PR. Public relations. Two calls shouldn't be beyond him. But no one had told him that he'd have to deal with people like Sean.
"Get used to it," he mutters. "This is Palace, you twit. If you can't stand the celebrity, then what the fuck are you doing here?"
He nods and swallows hard. Before he can think better of it, he puts in the code Harry had given him.
"Uh. Mr. Bean?" Voice mail. Mixed blessing, since it only pushes off the time he'll have to actually talk to Sean. "My name is Jonny Lee Miller. Mr. Harry Sinclair told me I should make contact with you to talk about, uh, he hired me to help take care of PR, and there'll be a trial period, I know, and he said to talk to you about the length of the period and the extent of my duties and responsibilities." Stop. Breathe. Think. Make a good impression. "I, uh, look forward to working for you, sir. I hope you won't regret it." Of course he'll regret it. You sound like an infant.
Wincing, he puts in the second code. But at least he's not in awe of Liv as he is of Sean. "Ms. Tyler," he begins, amazed that his voice made the jump from squeaky to level in ten seconds flat, "my name is Jonny Lee Miller. Mr. Harry Sinclair said I should get in touch with you about my trial period, working in PR, and about duties I would be assigned to do. Thank you." He clicks it off and drops backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"There you go," he says to himself. "Can't take any of it back."
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