Latest Posts by le0davisarchive - Page 8

nate-jones​:

Whenever Nate was set on something, he was stuck until he would do it. And with his contract soon ending- just after the Sleeping Beauty run- he knew he had to find alternatives. He loved ballet, but Kal was right, even if his words had been said with absolute anger. What was he doing with his life? He had danced for years, it was only a matter of time before his body would start catching up with everything he was doing, and he needed alternatives. Either way, he wanted to improve. No matter what happened, he wanted to be the best at what he did, even if he knew he was very, very far away from it. But he could try, and he might as well start with extra lessons.

He had researched Leo Davis before making his way to NYU, hoping to find him somewhere. His success rate was amazing, he seemed absolutely perfect at what he did, and that was what Nate needed. Maybe, in some way, someone’s brilliance would rub off on him, making him at least a little bit better. However, there was one problem; he couldn’t afford the lessons. So, finishing up work, he made his way to the campus, counting on miraculously finding the class. And for once, luck was on his side; just as he was approaching one of the buildings, the man walked out, the sudden appearance throwing the dancer off his feet. He hadn’t even rehearsed the speech he was planning to give, and here the teacher was, so close!

Nate was standing there for a little too long, and by the time he snapped out of it, the man was already on his way somewhere else. That was perfect! He could try and follow him, catch up to him and stop him so they could have a conversation. That was totally normal, right? It seemed normal to Nate, especially in a city like this. So he walked, practicing the speech inside his head, murmuring the words every once in a while as he walked a good few meters away from the man, both trying to catch up to him and to make sure that he wouldn’t screw it up when he did.

All came crashing down when he realized the man was now standing still, so close to him, and Nate suddenly came to a complete stop, surprise overflowing him.

“Oh, hi! Sorry! I promise I wasn’t stalking you or doing anything shady, which probably sounds extremely shady right now, but still! I just- I know you’re a fantastic acting coach, and I was hoping I could somehow persuade you to teach me.” He always ranted when he was nervous, and yet, a small smile appeared on Nate’s face. “Sorry about that.”

-

People on the outside were constantly telling him what a success he was. Yet his mind always finished off their praises with the tag line: for an acting coach. He had the highest callback and booking rate, currently, in the university circle. He should have proud about that. All the dumb comments and directions he was giving to his students were working out for them. Casting directors were eating up the specific changes he was making to his students’ auditions. He should be so, so proud. But he wasn’t. Their successes added perfect fuel to the fire of his own failure. It proved to him that he was always meant to a teacher to the Prima Donna, and never the actual star himself. 

“Good for you.” Leo replied, a knee jerk reaction to being told by student that they got a call back. He was, however, glad that the student waited till class was over to tell him. But this also gave him the itch to walk home as soon as possible. “You know where to find me if you want more help. Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife’s waiting.” He huffed, slinging his messenger style bag over his shoulder and turning to leave the room. He flounced through the courtyard, not paying mind to anyone around him, as jealousy began to blind him. His jaw was flexing beneath his beard and his nostrils began to flare as he could feel the poignant flare of rage begin to rise within him. His hands were tightening around the brown leather and he continued his trek. 

With his emotions on high alert, he began to have a sense of paranoia. Was someone following him? He was not in the mood for whatever New York weirdness that was falling into his lap. Especially not in this mood. Not when he felt like he needed a drink or a punching bag. But if he turned around, he could possibly have the latter. Leo immediately stopped walking, and turned to meet whoever was matching his step pattern behind him. His eyes were dark as he met brown eyes kinder than his own will ever be. This took him back. His own surprise was being mirrored by the other’s face. Leo’s forehead pushed together as tried to hear the man through his own shock. “W-wha-what? Wait, kid, slow down.” Leo’s hand waved in the space between them, as he blinked to process all that he had said. 

“Well, you were right to start off with flattery.” He quipped, feeling his previous anger begin to be taken over by intrigue. The tension in his body language was visibly leaving. “You could have just called instead of following me.” He couldn’t help but scold the kid a little about that. “Now why do you believe I need some persuading to teach you...?” He questioned, because that really caught his attention. 

joey teaching an acting class

martinanselmo​:

Martín wasn’t a pushover. He got along well with most people, but he was his own person— probably, right? Honestly, he didn’t know how the board had managed to coax him into this ridiculousness. Holding presentations was hardly new to him, he’d been a TA for a while back in his school days. He was eloquent enough, even if he wasn’t always the most outspoken person in the room. But the classes were free for him, so hey, it couldn’t hurt, right? Maybe his new teacher had some good tricks to share.

Again, his doorbell trumpeted that horrible 8-bit version of Beethoven’s Ode to Joy. Martín sighed, as he finished up hiding the last of his dirty dishes back in the cupboards, and tucked away stray papers from his kitchen table. He straightened his shirt before making his way to open the door. “You must be Mr. Davis, come on in,” Martín said as he moved aside for the other. He closed the door, and then offered out his hand. “Martín Gutiérrez. Thank you for making a home call for me, it’s been a hectic week and I hardly have time to get home, let alone haul myself around Manhattan.” 

Martín directed the other into his living room with windows so covered in plants you could barely see outside. He had to gather them all there in the mornings, for maximum sunlight. “How was your trip here? Not too complicated, I hope.” Martín hovered awkwardly in the middle of his living room, hands behind his back, waiting. How would they get started?

-

“Hello, Leo’s fine,” he greeted back at his new student, and he moved through the open door. Leo was trying to keep his eyes from widening at the realization that the two shared the same style. Dark curls, full burly beard, and a collared shirt. Leo chucked it to the man having taste because that was also a compliment back to himself. He shook Martin’s open hand with his own, switching the empty cup from hand to other before doing so. Leo’s shake was a good firm two shakes before releasing Martin’s hand. “It’s fine. You’re in my home borough at least.” Leo shrugged. He wasn’t ever going to complain about a twenty minute commute.  His eyes moved to skim the place remotely, as they walked, and even noted the plants before turning back to Martin. 

“So not at all complicated.” He said, finishing the small talk pleasantries. Leo surveyed Martin a little bit now, openly sizing him up as they both stood in the living room. Leo stood straight with no sign of fidgeting, and Martin was the complete opposite. If this is what he was acting like in the familiarity of his own home with one stranger… what would he be like in front of a crowd? The short quick mental image of the man stuttering did not feel like a reach. “Oh, Martín Gutiérrez,” Leo said with proper accent inflictions, “looks like we got a lot of work to do, sir.” He offered a smile even if his words were pretty telling of how many lessons were ahead of them.

Leo did wonder how he’d run lessons that wasn’t specific to acting. But he did break down the skills needed in order to present the art form. First of all the lessons was confidence. Being an actor you had to be the loudest in the room with no fear of failure. In order to do that was to be so sure of one’s self. If you couldn’t convince yourself, you cannot convince others. “Your first lesson will be to build your confidence.” Leo announced and proceeded to make himself much too comfortable in the space he was given. He set his empty cup down on the table, and began rifling through his messenger bag on the couch. Was it a way to prove how confidence can make someone overtly comfortable in a new place? Yes. Was it also cause Leo constantly possessed audacity? Also yes. 

Penn Badgley as Joe Goldberg You (2018 -)

norahphobia​:

“Good, i’ve been looking for a fight.” Norah quips back quickly, out of breath. She knew that wasn’t quite what he meant, but she didn’t want to dwell on worrying him. Easier to crack a joke in return. She shuffles off her black winter coat, brushing off snow from her clothing. She’d been through hell to get there, and briefly considered moving out of Brooklyn once and for all. She had to cross the bridge almost every day lately. “I tried to take the subway,” she begins, settling down into the booth across from him. “And my connecting train just - didn’t fucking come.” The subway system was notoriously fickle, delays and cancellations were basically guaranteed, especially in this weather. “So I had to get a taxi, and the cabbie couldn’t drive for shit in traffic.” 

Pausing to take a sip of water from one of the glasses on the table, she sets it back down with a slow teasing smile. “Or maybe I just thought about standing you up. You may never know.” Truly, she felt bad keeping him waiting. But she wasn’t the type to apologize for worrying someone, it happened so often she hardly registered it anymore. “I love this place.” Norah commented, her voice suddenly softer, amber eyes finally taking a moment to really look at him.

-

Leo’s rigrid posture relaxed instantouesly at her quip. Noted by his crossed arms leaning on the table now. He even laughed. This was something impossible for him not to do around Norah. She intriguied him from the very first moment she opened her mouth. She was one of those people that made him feel cool by proxy. He listened to her tale of traveling between the bouroughs. A classic tale to his native New Yorker ears. And a complete valid reason to be late. It was the teacher in him that deemed punctuality important. But he was happy to see her either way. 

“Oh, really?” He responded to her teasing by blinking multiple times to feign a sense of shock. He head dipped back, eyeing the ceiling of the train car when she expressed her admiration for it. “Yeah, same, I use to work in one.” He said, turning his head back to look her again as he spoke. “Not this one though. This one was closed when I was doing that. No, this one, this one’s quite famous.” His arms uncrossed and a hand tapped the table as he spoke, his voice getting quieter as if the details were a secret. “You see, this one was in Home Alone 2: Lost In New York.” He nodded, sharing the stupid movie fact as if were impressive. He laughed though knowing the whole thing was ridiculous. And he should probably move on to something more important. “Okay now that I’ve already said one movie fact, how about we look at the menu?” 

itsdelilahroche​:

Honestly? After being in acting school from 18 until 22 she had enough experience in her eyes and she didn’t really liked acting coaches. She always thought they were quite snoby  but, her director wanted her to go to one and if this is what it took to become a Broadway actress, she’ll do it. The role was of  Fanny Brice from Funny girl. Getting into a role this big, getting into Barbra Streisand’s shoes was huge. Delilah was a lucky girl and she will never screw this up. As she arrived to class she felt her heart beating fast. “Uh-yes, this is me! I need some help with a role I got.” She said as she placed the Broadway play on the teacher’s desk “This is a huge role and I need to be the best.”

-

“Of course, you do.” Leo said with a tight smile, climbing off of the student’s desk. All actors always thought the same way. The need to surpass the ordinary, and still find themselves unsatisfied. He looked over at the play she had set down. His face instantly scrunched at the title. Funny Girl? His brown eyes shot up at the obviously attractive blonde and blue eyes woman before him, “I’m sorry, but what the hell do you know about being the ugly duckling?” He said incredulously, still looking her over. “Who cast you as Fanny? Because then I’d have a shot at playing Danny Zuko with that director.” 

Is cheating ever okay?

“It’s not right, but it’s okay.” He chimed, a knee jerk reaction to something so serious. But the fact he accompanied the Whitney Houston tune with a finger gun wasn’t the worst part of it all. Cheating was something he was doing best. He had truly suppressed his reality by wrecking his liver every night. The reality of chasing another affection from someone other than his loving wife. But he made himself believe the following sentiment. 

It wasn’t cheating if he’s never met her. It wasn’t cheating if he’s never seen her. It wasn’t cheating if he’s never touched her. It wasn’t.

HONESTY HOUR*

wow this cannot be good for me *keeps doing it*

PULP FICTION (1994)

oliverbrowncnn​:

“Couples’ therapy?” Oliver found himself brought back a couple years back. Matthew and he had tried that, but clearly their marriage was past saving then. His parents hadn’t exactly been accepting of Matthew, not because he was a man, but because he didn’t belong to their social circle. His father suggested Oliver had picked him because he would never feel threatened by him, because he liked to feel superior to others. How exactly were you supposed to have a healthy marriage when your other half started to think that his own husband despised them.

“How do you feel about it?” Reaching over to get his hand on the wine bottle, he gave them both a refill, offering Leo a compassionate look. “Did you decide to do it, or was it her suggestion?”

-

Leo almost whinced when Oliver repeated what he said. He couldn’t believe he had actually said it to someone who knew more than his drink order. It was making his martial problems all the more real. Especially to someone who had been through the same song and dance before.   “I feel like it’s a distraction or some kind of test.” Leo wasn’t one to believe in talking about anything that had to do with his emotions. He could recite the history of method acting, and be completely enthralling while doing so. But once it came to dealing with anything with substance, he would shut off. He watched as the wine sloshed into his glass before looking over at Oliver. “And who do you think?” He questioned with little agression and a quirk of his brow before shaking his head. This was his way of simmering his annoyance and silently apologizing to him. He exhaled and met Oliver’s eyes, “I don’t know how any couple is expected to make it through those sessions. You hear things from your partner I don’t believe you should ever hear them say.” His gaze drifted to his topped off glass, he took another sip, and felt his edgyness subside the smallest bit. 

devieiras​:

Ines understood that therapy could be a scary process. In fact, many of her clients had been too intimidated to truly be vulnerable with her at first. It was a normal occurrence. But this? This behaviour had been anything but that. No amount of patience and gentle encouragement seemed to resonate with the man sat before her. Perhaps somebody less willing would have simply referred he and his wife to another psychologist. But the farther he seemed to act out, the more it only made Ines want to see things through. Joke’s on him. 

“Mm,” the woman acknowledged his statement with a hum, lips pursed and eyes staring into his with the same intensity he had given her, “Surely there is. You’re here, aren’t you? Realistically, there’s nobody forcing you to show up to these appointments.” She leant back in her seat, much like he had. “So, tell me Leo. Why is it that you continue to?” 

-

He stroked his beard as his mind was beginning to picture the drink he was surely going to have later tonight. Of course, it’d be a drink he’d have after telling his wife a little white lie about how this session went. That was until he heard her speak again. He thought his intensity would keep her from speaking again, but he did throw her a bone. And with the way their gaze had met again, he could tell that she was about to launch it right back at him. Especially with the way she mimicked his posture, he tried not to smirk. “Realistically,” he stole her term, “I do have someone forcing me to show up.” His face pulling up at the word as he said it condescendingly. He brought his hand down from his chin, and he looked over at the empty spot on the couch. The same spot his wife would occupy in their coupled sessions. A part of him wished she was there with him, her image was warm in his head, until it was overthrown by one of her openly complaining about him. Then his expression hardened as he looked back at Ines once again. “She is why I continue these stupid meetings. She believes your psycho babble is helping.” He said, sitting up and gesturing to his own temple as he mocked psychology as a whole.

Penn Badgley as Rex Here Today (2021), dir. Billy Crystal

starter for: @oliverbrowncnn​ where: the soleil 

Leo was relaxed to say the least. His diluted drink was half way finished, the sweet spot for him as he could finish the next half in one go. He was enjoying Oliver’s rare company. Even if the mentions of Oliver’s successes fanned the flames of his own jealousy. It was still good to catch up when they could. There had been a comfortable lull in their conversation, and most of that was drawn by Leo’s absent gaze. 

Leo didn’t know what suddenly came over him. Was it the lounge music playing? The dimmed lighting? Or the percentage amount of alcohol that was in his slender frame? He squirmed in his seat as his thoughts began to race with his heart beat.

Say it, say it, say it. Say it to someone other than your favorite bartender, you coward! “I’m in couples’ therapy.” He blurred out, the recognition that he said it hit him like a rubber band, snapping him into reality. He even looked surprised as he looked at Oliver. Leo regretted impulsively opening that door, kicking it down was more like it. “We’re— we’re in couples’ therapy.” He corrected and adjusted the collar of his maroon dress shirt. 

starter for: @norahphobia​ where: empire diner in chelsea

leo had to admit that he was a sucker for train styled diners. historic and rare were two attributes he’ll always admire. he had fond memories of diners such as this. once he was old enough to legally work, leo would bus tables and wash dishes. he admired the blue, silver chromium diner as he sat in a booth, waiting for his dinner date. and eventually, he shifted his gaze to the street outside. and then he had been sitting there long enough for the waitress to give the table two glasses of water. 

“You’re late,” Leo said immediately as Norah had came into view. “I’ve already called the cops.” He said, crossing his arms in front of him. He looked at her accusingly as if he was blaming her for something he obviously didn’t do. He was masking his bit of worry with a joke. 

I’m the worst kind of monster: the kind that comes with a pretty face, a cold heart, and a reason to be that way.

(via vindictadulcis)

starter for: @martinanselmo​ where: martin’s casa 

Leo was intrigued by this next client, mostly because of how the arrangement came to be. It wasn’t normal to receive a call from a manager that wasn’t tied to an actor. And the ink on his paycheck had stated otherwise. He remembered the call and how he tried to argue that a speech class would probably be best. But Leo’s argument fell short when the deal of multiple sessions were brought up. He could certainly use the money. 

That’s how he ended up in front of a tall door, in front of a townhouse on the northside of Manhattan. Though Leo would debate his townhouse looked a lot better on the outside than this one did. He adjusted his leather messenger bag on his shoulder before knocking. He was perfectly on time, Washington Heights was a reasonable twenty minutes from home today. He even had time to stop for a coffee. Evident by the greek blue cup in his other hand. He looked at the still unopened door before deciding to down the last of the cup’s contents. 

devieiras​:​

More than a few minutes had passed that there was only silence between the two; nothing but the ticking of the clock and the tapping of her fingers against her clipboard bouncing off of the walls of her office. Leo had been one of her most stubborn clients by far, and he was even more so without his wife to give him a little nudge in their sessions. She was at a loss of how to get through to him. “Mr. Davis, I’m sure you’re aware that therapy only works when you actually engage in discussion. It’s not worth either of our time to simply sit and stare at one another.” 

-

Smug. Completely smug is how anyone could describe Leo in this very moment. Not to mention stubborn and withholding, but he focused on feeling a sense of pride of wasting her time. He, however, was not wasting his time but earning it. the longer he kept her at bay extended his time with his wife. he believed that the woman in front of him wasn’t helping, but making everything worse. anything he said this room was being analyzed. and, hell, not to mention the things his wife would bring up. leo wanted to keep giving her nothing. 

“I’ve got nothing I’d like to discuss with you.” Leo said looking dead into her eyes. There was no hatred in his expression though his words didn’t come from anywhere kind. He looked away from her and relaxed further in his seat. soon he began stroking his beard with his thumb. 

New Girl (2011-2018)

astral-silk​:

closed starter to @le0davis​ location: dive bar on 9th

There was a certain tension to the expression she held as she practically stormed into the bar, as if she might turn into torrential downpour at the slightest twitch out of deadpan. Sometimes life just felt so frustrating and impossible. Like she was constantly swimming upstream and wasn’t going anywhere. Some days it was easier to handle, to stay focused and keep that dream alive she’d held since she was a child. Other days it felt like this—chaos in her head. Like she wanted to scream in the streets; ask all of New York why she just wasn’t good enough. 

It’d started from the moment she’d woken up. Late to class because she was late to wake up and had to commute from the Bronx into Manhattan because she was too poor to live down by NYU. The perpetual underlining of every experience; an emphasis she could never escape. It made every bad day even worse. And then to top it off, by the time classes were over and she’d rushed to get to NASA, a taxi driver had splattered dirty snow water all over her. That not only earned her some extremely judgmental looks from all the astrophysicists, but also had her pulled into a meeting with her boss. The boss that she’d been sleeping with to even have her internship spot—not that it was that big of a deal outside of the quid pro quo. She was actually attracted to them, all things considered. But the least they could do was understand she hadn’t intended to show up covered in mud—she just didn’t have time to go home and change. After twenty minutes of being spoken down to, the rest of her shift continued in similar fashion. It was like she just couldn’t get it right. Nothing she did, all day long. The last straw was being yelled at by one of her coworkers for interrupting him, to give him the seltzer water he’d asked for. 

That’s what landed her here, cheeks flushed with anger but unable to express any of it. She was negative in her cashapp—how the hell did that even happen? But at least she had some quarters in her wallet. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked. “A shot,” she responded, painfully obvious she wasn’t much of a drinker. She really wasn’t supposed to drink—the doctors said it was bad to drink on steroids and her nephritis wouldn’t take kindly to it. She didn’t care. She was frustrated. “Um…” she paused. “Vod…ka?” it came out like a question, like she was unsure of herself that vodka was even a spirit. And then slid her handful of quarters the bartender’s way. “Will this be enough?” She couldn’t even feel the embarrassment of it anymore with how exhausted she was from the day.

-

Leo’s index finger and thumb appiled pressure to his throbbing temple. today was one of those days where he couldn’t escape from his wife’s attempt to communicate with him. though he couldn’t blame his wife for the silly game of twenty-one questions about his feelings. no, that blame belonged to his therapist. he rubbed his eyes now, with elbows propped on the bar. why on earth was it so important to know what he was thinking about? he’ll never understand nor did he want to. he felt like he was exisiting and trying his best. how was that not enough? he let out a groan and pulled his hands away from his face to find the bartender freshening up his drink.

after some proper nursing of whiskey on the rocks, leo was feeling a lot better. he was buzzed. completely radiating with false energy that was just his heart stressing under the poison of his vice. leo offen people watched when he was this phase. his spotlight now shone on the tall, raven haired woman who sat adjacent to him. he watched her in silence, pinching his cold glass in his dominant hand. he took a drink just as the bartender had spoken to her. he almost laughed; his mouth curving around the glass as he sipped his drink. it was the most amusing order he’s heard since someone ordering a slippery nipple. 

Leo couldn’t help but insert himself, eyeing the mix of dirty and shiny quarters in her palm. He let out a low whistle. “Looks like we know where all the missing coins went.” He said, referencing the national coin shortage. Him making a joke, really kept him from sympathizing with her at first. He had been there once before. He couldn’t even afford a bagel with a proper smear when his career was going down the drain. “That’s not enough if you want to numb up whatever you’re feeling.” His tone still coated in smugness. His brown eyes read her face some more as he leaned back in his seat. His gaze shifted to the bartender. “I’ll cover the rest. Give her a triple and a water.” The bartender looked over at her for confirmation, as the amount of quarters she had presented them was barely enough for one shot. 

annalisechambersx​:​

Annie really felt like she was living her best life in New York. Sure, she missed home and she missed her family, but New York just felt like the place for her. She loved her job, she loved her friends, she loved the day life and she really loved the night life. There was just something about walking around New York at night and seeing all the lights mixed with the hustle and bustle. It was exactly what she wanted.

A couple nights a week, after work, she would head out to a bar, just wanting to unwind a little and maybe meet some new people. She had no fear when it came to speaking to people. Which, really, was a dangerous thing considering she could very well get hurt doing that…but it hadn’t happened yet. So she was feeling confident it wouldn’t. Probably. When Annie approached the bar, the barmaid smiled warmly at her and got to work on her favorite drink, the Cosmopolitan. After a minute or so, she was passed the drink and a straw, and she was moving through the bar, her chocolate hues dancing around.

She just hung around for a bit, sipping idly on her drink when she spotted a man that appeared to be alone. That was sad. Annie didn’t like seeing that. She didn’t mind being alone. She believed that she was meant to be. But that wasn’t the case for everyone else. With her signature smile on her face, she crossed the room and the approached the man, her curls bouncing as she did so, “Have you ever had their wings here?” She asked, a little randomly, “I’m not much for chicken wings. But there’s something about them here.” She giggled quietly and shrugged, “Actually most of their food is pretty good now that I think about it…”

-

Fucking-tourist-implant, a sputter of thoughts left his head as he passed by some dude in a spankin new I Heart NY t-shirt. He didn’t know why that had bothered him too much on this particular evening. But as he got older, he grew to see just how crowded this edge of the east coast was. Yeah, that’s what it was, the city was becoming too saturated. his mood wasn’t sour because his mouth was dry, he told himself. he always downplayed how much he needed his vice even lying to himself. but he couldn’t lie that the world became a bit nicer when he sat in that stool with the cold sweat of his drink at his fingertips. 

it sipped slowly now, savoring how the taste had rose the hairs on neck and gave him the feeling of goosebumps. he was at his usual bar, truly in his own element tonight. he liked the people watching, the food for a bar was decent, and the bartender was great company when available. he was fine just as he was, just another typical night. 

“Uh—erm,” leo cleared his throat of his initial surprise. people didn’t usually approach him because he was always scowling. he could have sworn he had the same look he always did. but now he was surprised, meeting brown eyes far warmer than his own could ever be. he paused, wondering if he should even reply to this stranger’s sudden presence. he could easily let out a big gruff and walk off. but this was his spot. his brow quirked when she spoke about the other food items as if she had them. he, of course, had sampled the whole menu once. 

“Order what you want.” He shrugged then pinched his glass in his dominant hand. his gaze on the stranger was still cautious. his expression was not friendly nor rude. “But yeah, the food’s pretty good.”

PENN BADGLEY as Joe Goldberg YOU (2018 -) | 2.06 Farewell, My Bunny

complain, complain, and complain is all leo wanted to do right at this very moment. he found solace complaining over his life with a glass in his hand at his favorite spot on the ninth. ah, he was waiting for the sweet relief that would come to sliding himself in his seat with his usual order waiting for him. but today’s extra curricular activities just had to wait. he had a new client that absolutely had to be seen today. 

all he could do was clench his jaw as he fought the desire to abandon the empty class room that was dubbed as his office today. his foot began tapping away as he sat inncorrectly on a student’s desk. his behind was perched on the headrest and his feet flat on the seat. he was hunched over, lost in the vision of elsewhere, till a quiet scuffle made him turn around. 

leo sighed, seeing the combination of big blue eyes and blonde hair.  another pretty young thing to surpass him in life. fantastic, he grumbled in his head. he cleared his throat before greeting her, his voice coming out warmer than his own thoughts. “Hey there, are you,” he turned to grab the resume that was on the desk. lifting up the page as he turned back towards her, he questioned, “Deliah Roche?”  @itsdelilahroche​

It's 5AM, I'm nihilist, I know there's nothing after this.

—Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but Leo Davis, a thirty-three year-old cis-male has lived in Chelsea, Manhattan for ten years. This is the city of dreams and he knows it, because they came to NYC to be an acting coach. Well, that and as The Regular. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like Penn Badgley. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it! 

HEY, HEY THERE THANK YOU CLICKING READ MORE. Before you continue there are heavy topics that will be spoken without much care as they should be approached. Leo’s very direct as is this intro. The following triggers are alcohol abuse, substance abuse, abandonment, cheating, narcism, depression, anxiety, death, suicide, religion, and open aggression. 

—

BASIC INFORMATION

name: Leonardo Anthony Davis

nicknames: Leo, the regular

pro-nouns: he / him

gender: cis-male

age: 33, thirty-three

d.o.b: July 31, 1988

p.o.b: Brooklyn, New York

current address: Chelsea, Manhattan, NY

astrological sign: Leo Sun, Aries Moon, Libra Ascendant

sexual orientation: heterosexual

relationship status: married, but he’s unfaithful

occupation: acting coach

education: grad of tisch school of arts

APPEARANCE

height: 6’0 ft

weight: 176 lbs

build: slim, muscular

hair colour: dark brown 

hair length: curly, shaggy, to the nape of his neck

eye colour: dark brown

wardrobe style: causal to classic well-tailored designer pieces

tattoos: none

piercings: none

jewelry: ( left hand ) white gold wedding band & watch, ( right hand ) white gold pinky ring

defining features: voice, bone structure, nose, full beard

HEALTH

physical ailments: none

mental ailments: undiagnosed anxiety, undiagnosed ptsd, undiagnosed bi-polar disorder, anger management issues, alcoholism

do they drink: oh, yes

do they smoke: cigarettes? occasionally

recreational drugs: mary jane? definitely

addictions: alcohol and sex

PERSONALITY

positive traits: creative, attentive, charming, energetic, passionate

negative traits: blunt, impulsive, volatile, self-centered

likes: coffee, cake, cocktails, music, old films, theatre, yelling, running

dislikes: driving, cooking, small talk, lack of attention, lack of control

character parallels: Joe Goldberg ( you ), Nick Miller ( new girl ), Adam Sackler ( girls )

ACTIVITIES & SKILLS

skills: teaching, creativity ( vision ), acting

weaknesses: his own emotions and actions 

hidden talents: can sing surprisingly well, and lie really well

languages spoken: English, and a little Spanish to get by

brief history

the davis family is to put it quite plainly, a fucking mess. it started out fairly typical. boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, boy and girl get married and have a baby. and then that baby ends up in foster care as a toddler. oh wait, that’s not typical. just the short end that leo was given by life, and man did life continue to give him a number of short ends. let’s back track at little. 

leo’s mom passed away when he was three years old. growing up everyone had told him she passed because she was sick. when he was old enough to find out what really happened, he regretted it. her autopsy had stated she had died from accidental poisoning, but he knew how to read between the lines. a young couple with a newborn in Brooklyn in that economy? leo’s poor father only made it three more months before he had succumb to his own vices, and figured his child was better off at some home ran by nuns. 

now you’d think, okay, a toddler would have a fine time getting adopted, but it became clear that his terrible toddler years weren’t a phase. he had bounced around from family to family till he was deemed too old to be desirable. leo was generally a quiet kid until this burst of energy would charged right through him. then he was loud, uncontrollable, and almost unattainable. the nuns had claimed he was possessed, but without looking through the narrow eye of religion, it was clear he needed help. but even as an adult he had never found the help he needed. he still deals with inability to communicate his emotions in a healthy way. he chooses vices to keep them subdued. hell, his own livelihood is one to mimic emotion and make others believe it. 

work

through everything, leo found solace in watching the black and white tv in the game room, and reading every bit of dr. suess and shakespeare he could get his hands on. he admired the way things always seemed to work out so well on the screen. how things were always so perfect when planned, written, and especially how they were portrayed. he was in love with that aspect and knew that he could act just as well. 

 he had success in beginning of his so called acting career. he was a vessel of pure potential. but even with a degree of performance arts from nyu, leo couldn’t be what they were all looking for. notes of being too aggressive, too intense, and too much had him fall back to teaching or live on the streets. he wouldn’t have guessed it but teaching all the ingenues and having their careers begin to bloom before his eyes was his own personal hell. he would watch as they took his advice and become far more than he’d ever be. the only thing that kept him going were three things. one, the money for he made was decent, and kept him comfortable in his townhome in manhattan. two, he could at least live vicariously. three, he could afford to forget it all at dive bar on the 9th. 

love

somehow leo met his wife in a cinematic meet cute. it was perfect. too perfect. too perfectly easy. their love affair moved in a way where an outsider could look at them and fill in the passion that wasn’t there. at least it wasn’t there for him. he loved her but didn’t know if that love held any depth. but somehow he made her happy. he didn’t understand himself but he continued through the motions long enough for him to believe that there was something between them rather than connivence. he gave her what she needed to keep her happy. a ring and a home, just anything other than himself. 

no, he reserved his true self for words on a screen. his affair was new and he didn’t deem it as an affair. he was seemingly just getting along with someone who understood him better. someone like himself. someone who wasn’t perfect and didn’t expect him to be. 

wanted connections

- platonic : friends, neighbors, college friends, acting clients, best friend ( the bartender skeleton ), therapist ( the therapist skeleton )

-romantic : exes, wife ( the married patient skeleton ), cat fish mistress ( the pretender skeleton ), baby mama 

-familial : close friend from foster care

And just like that, she’s the victim again. Masterful.

YOU | 3.02 “So I Married an Axe Murderer“

I am not violent. I am not malicious. I am a result.

Death, The Book Thief (via literatureandfilms)