[center][img=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v75/3monica6/wren_zpsefff2a34.png][/center] Wren's phone rang just as Eliza had propped herself up on the dunk tank, forcing her to miss the actual dunking process, much as she wanted to join in cheering for the older girl. The familiar ringtone that played in a loop indicated that it was her manager calling, and that in turn, meant that this was not a call she could, or ever would, ignore. Digging out her phone in her satchel, she tried to maneuver quickly through the growing crowd, but she struggled to push against the flow as everyone started to gather around the tank. When she'd finally gotten free, Wren sat herself on a bench some feet away from the bustling area and accepted the call. She was immediately greeted by a familiar wail of excitement then a string of incoherent babbling, in a manner that she had come to associate with 'more work.' It could only mean that her quiet days-off were numbered and she didn't mind it one bit. The call lasted all of ten minutes, but she came out of it three months busier. Photo shoot next Thursday. Some interviews the following week. Her manager also wanted her to get ready for possible pickups or reshoots, which were most likely for some of the fight scenes she had to do. There were also a dozen more things, all listed in her calendar already, which she was expected to review and accept later tonight. Suffice it to say, she was busy and she couldn't be happier. It would actually worry her more if her manager wasn't trying to fill in as much of her schedule as was allowed by law. Wren had half a mind to run back to her room and start relearning the choreography for the fight scenes. There were some moves she would definitely want to perfect this time around. She could start prepping for the interview, as well. Last time she had accidentally let her snarkier side free, and she'd taken some of her fans by surprise. She wouldn't want a repeat of that. And then she could maybe even start a seven-day detox regimen so she'd have that healthy skin glow right before the shoot. Good thing she hadn't eaten any of the picnic food yet! As more and more concerns crowd her thoughts, Wren frowned. She felt suddenly restless. There was a weight on her shoulders that came out of nowhere, like a strange sense of overwhelming trepidation, and she knew from experience that it wouldn't go away until she feels like she's been productive. Wren stood and started walking back toward the path that led to the dorm, stopped after a moment, then turned around to sit back down on the bench with childish resignation. [i]No, today's picnic day.[/i] Wren had to tell herself. She promised her mother she would make room for work-free days, and this was one of them. [i]Can't work today. Can't work today.[/i] She repeated it like a mantra, but her thoughts were too quick to drift to the coming weeks and what she needed to do to prepare. Wren groaned in frustration. She was going nowhere with this endless fretting, and it was just giving her a headache. Jumping up from the bench, she looked around for her roommate, knowing she could help distract her for a while, but she couldn't find her through the crowd and she currently hadn't the energy to wade through them. She was in all honesty tempted to scream for Julie, because she wasn't thinking straight and she'd apparently forgotten about the magic of mobile phones. Luckily, she spotted a familiar figure sitting on the grass just a few feet from her, feasting on practically the whole potluck. "August Marco," she called out, smiling as she approached him. If anyone could help her loosen up a little, it would be the infamous prankster. "Know any cures for a raging workaholic?"