Chris Pine || 28-ish || Actor Stardom had never been on his list of things to do, and acting had turned out to be a happy, very lucky, accident. Years ago, when he had first started out, and went from audition to audition, selling himself for the most obscure roles, the blonde man would have never thought that his life could be what it currently was. Now, there was a filming schedule, meetings to attend with his agent, a publicist, a personal trainer, flights to catch for late shows and daytime and a weirdly sporadic barrage of paparazzi wanting to take his picture. Chris Pine was not cut out for being in the public eye, it was just a fact and something he had admitted to anyone who would listen on more than several occasions. Success came with a price, but all Chris really wanted to do was sleep. One year ago, the mysterious Star Trek reboot hadn't even been on his mind. He had heard rumors about it, vaguely putting faces to names as his agent told him who he could be working with, but his unnaturally blue eyes had been set in a different direction. White Jazz would have been an amazing movie, deep and cutting edge, a film critics wet dream—the exact opposite of green screens and made up space jargon. Chris hadn't wanted to play James T. Kirk and careen across the galaxy with Mister Spock and his bowl cut, fighting aliens or slaying space dragons, or whatever the hell it was the Enterprise crew actually did. He had wanted a homoerotic crime thriller and somehow had it set in his mind that the role would be huge for him. His manager had quickly burst that bubble. Unfortunately, White Jazz fell through and Star Trek was more viable, which Chris did his best to see as a sign as he agreed to fill the shoes of William Shatner and join a cast of well-respected and incredibly talented actors. He had been so insecure back then, but he got through it and no one had hated his portrayal of the legendary captain. Fans even liked to tell him that he was okay. Just okay, by the way. Not horrible. Good enough. The press tour and promotion had taken everything out of him. Chris was outgoing to begin with, but the constant time changes and jet lag had really caught up to him by the time the month was over and he was back home in LA. He wouldn't have to answer the same questions anymore, he wouldn't have to get dressed every day, he could hide away, decompress, turn off the switch that had kept him on for the last four weeks and finally start to relax before he had to go and do it all over again with a different project. As soon as he got home, Chris hadn't even made it to his bedroom. He had fallen asleep on the couch, suitcases left by the door, mail piled up in the kitchen, the entire apartment quiet around him as he slept for what felt like days. It was more like twelve hours, and it would have been longer if his phone hadn't rang and filled his head with a deep and pleasantly familiar voice. Zachary Quinto wanted to get coffee and Chris was powerless to say no in his dream-like state, eyes closed, phone balanced on his face and his arms tangled around a throw pillow. “Tomorrow,” he mumbled. “Noon thirty. Lamill.” Chris hung up after that, or rather, he rolled back over and let his phone fall carelessly to the floor. For the rest of the evening and night and well into the morning, Chris slept and slept hard as he let himself readjust to only one timezone. When he opened his eyes again, it was close to twelve, the morning fifteen minutes from being over and he rubbed at his eyes as he felt around for his phone, first with his hands between the cushions of the couch and then lazily with his right foot on the floor. He found it eventually and saw a ridiculous amount of text messages that could be ignored until later, a few emails that would get the same treatment and a voicemail from his sister that he wouldn't listen to before calling her back. Sometimes, Chris was a horrible communicator. On the other hand, he had a great memory and even though he had been half asleep when Zach had called to make plans, Chris remembered that he had somewhere to be. With some reluctance, and still feeling jet lagged, the blonde rose from his makeshift bed and padded his way into the bathroom for a shower so that he could look decent enough for the day. Aside from meeting Zach, he had no other plans for himself, which was how he liked it, but Chris never passed up on the opportunity to see his friend. There was just something about the other man and his eyebrows that made Chris happy. Less than a half hour later, Chris was out the door. He wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, some of the only things left in his closet since he had yet to unpack and do laundry, but he looked decent enough. The walk to Lamill wasn't that long, which Chris was thankful for since traffic in LA still frustrated him despite living there his whole life. Plus, it was a nice day, sunny and warm and Chris felt more awake as he walked. It felt good to be home. Once he reached the coffee house, Chris gave a quick look around for Zach, blue eyes searching for the other man among the lunchtime crowd. Finally, he spotted him over at a table by the window that was bathed in the afternoon sun filtering in. It was distracting and Chris barely noticed that it was his turn to order until the barista behind the counter cleared her throat. He got himself a coffee, dark roasted with cream and double sugar because he didn't feel completely awake yet. After Chris had finally gotten his drink, he navigated his way through the other customers and toward Zach. He was already smiling and already ignoring the stupid fluttering thing his stomach sometimes did when he saw his co-star and friend. “Hey,” he greeted him with a tap on the shoulder before sliding into the seat on the other side of the table. “Am I late? I almost overslept.” -- Hope it's okay! Let me know if you need me to change or add.