The door closed with a soft click, momentarily softening the buzz of conversations outside. Cage was alone at last, but it wouldn't last for long.
He scrubbed his face wearily, his hands stroking the stubble on his chin that he hadn't bothered to shave off that morning. He wanted another shower. A strong drink, and something filling to eat. He wanted to be far away from the reporters who demanded his attention. He needed someone to tell him that his time was precious and that he wouldn't have to slave away in front of others to make them write about him.
Good press, his manager had called it, but it was his personal hell.
A knock on the door sounded, and the assistant appeared, clipboard in hand and an expectant face.
"Ready for the next one?" he asked with a small smile that irritated Cage.
"Give me a couple of minutes," he groaned, stretching his muscles and reaching for the glass to drink some water. He was parched from all the talking.
