The storyline is becoming quite complex now, so I hope everyone can follow it. If you are new to the series, please read the first two chapters here to catch up and understand everything, as recounting it all here would take too long. Heh. Many thanks to KMB for letting me reference his great series in this chapter. Feedback and suggestions always welcome. ____________________________________________
Standard Disclaimer:
You must be 18 to read this story, be able to read erotica in your community, not be offended by the contents of it...blah blah, you know the rest.
This story may be distributed freely, for commercial or non-commercial use, but PLEASE leave my email/name on it! That's all I ask!
This work is complete fiction, all made up in my head. Yes I know the celebs don't act like this in real life, but this is a fantasy after all.
This is Part 3 of an ongoing series.
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I have arrived and this time you should believe the hype I listened to everyone now I know that everyone was right I'll be there for you as long as it works for me I play a game It's called insincerity - Nine Inch Nails
ALEX'S STORY:
I slugged down my fourth shot in about 10 minutes, the bourbon going down hard and fiery down my throat. The stale smell of cigarette smoke and spilled beer wafting into my nostrils, I rubbed my hand through my hair. What a day it had been. Setting my glass down, I motioned for the bartender to fill it up again. He walked hesitantly over to me, the question of if I had had enough hanging on his lips and yet no words coming as he was about to say it. I watched him refill the glass and then picked it up in my hand, examining its brownish qualities, the liquor sloshing around slightly in the smudged glass. It looked small and frail in my hand, and I could crush it if I wanted to I suppose, but that would just bring on startled glances and questions from the other patrons of this dank bar, and questions were the one thing I was very much looking to avoid today if at all possible.
After my experience in the Starry Dreams strip club the night before, wherein I witnessed three of Hollywood's most beautiful women essentially becomes whores and sex slaves for a room full of powerful men, the most plaguing thought on my mind was not about what had happened but why. Things were not making sense, no matter how much I replayed them in my mind. Why were these women being so used like this and perhaps more importantly, why did they allow themselves to be? There had to be a reasonable explanation; there always was, at least if movies had taught me anything at all. And here I was smack dab in the middle of the place of dreams, getting my OWN movie made. Strangely though, life felt more bizarre than any piece of fiction I had ever seen on screen.
It didn't help matters that I was on the outs with Petty, my girlfriend. She had caught a great break for her singing career while waiting for me at my office, and how did I show her my joy for her? By going off about the evilness I was starting to understand of the record label/movie studio both of us suddenly found ourselves in the good graces of. It wasn't that I wasn't happy for her, it was simply that I thought that Antamount, the studio who bought my script and wanted to sign her to a record deal, had suddenly become inherently polluted in my mind, the luster losing it's sheen, following the events of last night.
So fuck it, I deserved these drinks, bartender be damned. Things were going to get worse before they got better, that much my gut already told me. What happened this morning certainly didn't help matters at all.
I had went into the studio the same as I had the day before, only this time armed with more knowledge than I probably wanted. Whereas before, everything seemed magical and like a dream, now it was as if everything was cast in a darker light. Secretaries seemed more snotty, set crews seemed more surly and the executives and people involved in Antamount's production of my movie, "Amerikan Family", seemed to be in on some kind of joke that I was the punch line of.
After spending a mostly sleepless night on the couch, I was groggy and yet still decidedly firm in the decision I had come to last night, lying there awake, staring at the ceiling. I had to know what was going on, or at least find out as much more as I could, without seeming too nosy or obvious. The likely source for this had at first seemed to be Gordon Hapsboro, studio owner Wilton Willis' head assistant, but chances are he probably knew too much and would get suspicious if I started questioning. So I crossed off names mentally down the Antamount food chain and had landed on Jack Furrow and Brandon Shuman, the two guys who were overseeing the script and producing my film for Antamount. They might not know everything that was going on behind the scenes at the studio, but they could at least help in putting a lot of my fears to rest and convince me that I was just imagining things.
I walked into the casting lot, opening the door quietly to avoid making too much noise if there were script readings still going on. To my surprise however, the place was empty except for Furrow and Shuman, both of which were standing over the table they were at yesterday, looking down into a speaker phone. Jack had his hands splayed out across the table as he leaned against it, his head down as he listened intently to the other end, while Brandon stood idly by the table, his arms crossed, looking bored. As I drew closer to them, I could begin to hear the conversation in full.
"So then first it's Virginia for the end scene, followed by the lot here for the rioting and climax and the rest will be shot in France. Is that what your notes say too Mr. Willis?" Furrow said into the speaker phone. I stood still, barely even breathing as I listened. Just the mention of Willis' name now sent chills down my back.
"Yes Jack, that's the shooting schedule. And casting is complete, at least with the principal players?" I heard Willis' voice say. It sounded tinny and far away, or at the very least to be coming from a cell phone.
"Yes sir. Two weeks more of final script prep and then we will be ready to start shooting," Furrow said.
"I assume Brandon has everything in order then?" Willis asked.
Brandon unfolded his arms and leaned in over the speaker. "Yes Mr. Willis, the revisions are going to be slight. Hilt gave us something decent to work with so that's a good thing. Although I still think changing the name might be in order," Brandon said.
"Nonsense. What with all this flag waving and patriotic mumbo jumbo going on, anything with the word 'America' in it will sell tickets like crazy. Even if it is misspelled. Now, I must be going gentlemen, is there anything else?" Willis said.
"No sir. Have a safe flight," Jack said. There was an audible click on the other end, followed by a soft beep as Jack hung up the phone. He stepped back from the table and stretched, his arms rising high above his head. I took this as a cue to continue on into the room.
Brandon saw me first. "Hey Alex, what's up?"
"Just back on the job," I replied.
"Glad to hear it. You feeling better?"
"Yes, thank you. First day jitters I guess," I said, obviously not letting in on the fact that I had left early yesterday more out of confusion and worry than any sort of actual sickness.
"Well, we finished up casting without you. Here's a list," Brandon said, handing me a sheet of paper from the table. I took it and glanced down, scanning. It was written in a neat but slightly erratic hand, almost as if it was done in haste. A lot of the names I had never heard of, but a few stood out.
In the role of the mistress, they had cast Monica Bellucci. This was no surprise, given how well she had played the role yesterday during an audition. There were a few actual surprises though. For the teenage daughter, they had cast Eliza Dushku and for the youngest daughter, Mila Kunis (there were three kids, two girls and a younger boy). I raised my eyebrows at the casting of Kunis, as she had never struck me as much of a dramatic actress. Furrow must have picked up on my puzzlement, because he was quick to jump in.
"The studio wanted her for the daughter role to draw in the teen crowd. You know, the under 17 set," Furrow said.
