Theodore, as he listened, started scanning the menu. He didn't want to seem rude about it, though, so he was frequently looking away to listen to Hugh as he talked about life on set. It was interesting stuff. "I think it's good to branch out, stretch yourself into things you might not normally have considered." He'd done that with Jamie - Cursebreaking had not been his profession of choice; he was always much better at making potions, figured he would have a career in that. But again, Jamie had been transformative in that regard, as in so many others. And the writing, of course, had never been on his radar. "I'm considering, once everything with the American release calms down, and I'm finished with my next book, of maybe moving into something for older readers. It would be a different challenge."
He smiled, encouragingly, at Hugh. He'd obviously recaptured his passion for acting and that was definitely a good thing in Theodore's eyes. Theodore had never hated any of the work he'd done, and he couldn't imagine having a job that made him miserable. He was lucky in that regard as he knew several people did. "I think if you're passionate about something, you want to do it well. And it's only natural to want recognition, if you think you are doing it well. You sound like you're starting off slow, and it might be for the best that you ease into it." A pause. "You have a brother?"
Theodore had to take a drink at the next question. How did he do it. He had to wonder, sometimes. "At first, it was...well, no. That was later. At first, it was impossible." He remembered the days and nights melding together because he wasn't sleeping, between feeling his own grief, trying to guide Elaine through her own, and all on top of dealing with the pain of his physical recovery. "And then, it was keeping busy. Starting to write. Physical therapy for my leg. I..." He hadn't explained. "An excavation tunnel collapsed. That's how I hurt my leg. How Jamie was killed." See, he could say it, even if it doing so made him feel empty inside. Still, even after four years. "So...I attempted to occupy my mind as much as possible. Cleaned the house from top to bottom a dozen times. Packed his things. It will never been one hundred percent better. I'll never be the same person again." He took another drink, and while he enjoyed it, he thought it was good that he did. Drink had been the one thing he'd never let himself turn to, because of his father. If he drank to not feel things, he knew he'd be in trouble. "Fortunately, I think there's a lot of hope for you, because it is not the same thing. Not to minimize what you went through at all, but you have an easier path to getting back to yourself, if that makes sense." They just weren't comparable situations.