Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙 ✦ “Don’t forget, Fred.
Your guy is brand new.
For a newcomer, this price is more than enough.” “Come on, Eric.
That number is pocket change.” “Don’t get greedy, Fred.
Greed is a sin.” “To hell with greed.
Everybody Loves Raymond is one of CBS’s strongest shows right now.
A single episode brings in millions in ad revenue, and suddenly they can’t spare a few extra dollars for an actor they need today?” The argument inside the trailer came through in muffled bursts.
Standing outside, Adrian shook his head, amused despite himself, and moved a few steps farther away.
This part belonged to the agent.
Let Frederick earn his commission.
He looked around the lot.
Since this was a sitcom shoot, most of the crew stayed inside the soundstage, which gave him a little room to breathe.
Still, he remembered the looks from the background actors when Eric Reese told him to call his agent: surprise, envy, calculation, resentment.
He couldn’t exactly blame them.
No one else had spoken Italian.
Maybe that was the lesson.
A useful skill could open a door faster than any amount of wanting.
The thought tugged him toward memories of high school.
He pushed them away with a quiet sigh.
Soon the trailer door opened, and Reese came out with Frederick just behind him.
“Kid, you have a good agent.” Reese clapped Adrian on the shoulder.
“You’d better be worth the money.” He didn’t wait for an answer.
He strode back toward the soundstage with the force of a man who expected the air to move out of his way.
“The role doesn’t have a lot of screen time, but it matters,” Frederick said once Reese was gone.
“It’s one episode, three thousand dollars.” He paused.
“I have to say, you’re lucky, Adrian.” “Just lucky?” Adrian asked, one brow rising, pride tugging at his mouth.
“Fine.
You did well.” Frederick didn’t bother pretending to be offended.
“But this is only the beginning.
I’ve dealt with Eric Reese before.
He’s not easy to satisfy.” “I know.” Adrian’s smile faded into focus.
“If I finally have a real role, I’m going to do it right.” Then he headed for the soundstage.
“Adrian.” Frederick called him back.
The agent frowned, opened his mouth as if he meant to say something else, then only waved a hand.
“Knock it out of the park.” “Thanks.” Adrian’s opinion of Frederick improved a little more.
Inside, the production had already started moving under Reese’s pressure.
As soon as Adrian came in, Reese tossed him a script.
“You have one hour to get familiar with it, kid.
You’d better show me something.
Fred talked you up like you could walk on water, but we haven’t signed anything yet.
If you can’t make me happy, you can still be out the door.” He smiled as he said it.
It was not a kind smile.
“I won’t let that happen, sir.” Adrian shrugged as if the threat didn’t bother him, found a place to sit, and opened the script.
Everybody Loves Raymond was a sitcom for the broadest possible audience.
In truth, most shows that made it onto the four major broadcast networks at the time had to be.
This one aired on CBS and had strong ratings, making it one of the more successful sitcoms on television, though it still sat below NBC’s crown jewel, Friends.
Adrian had known Friends even in the old life.
He had liked it too.
Unfortunately, the memory had surfaced only after the show was already airing.
Otherwise, maybe he could have used the idea to make money.
Right.
As if that would have been easy.
Still, landing an important role on a show like this, even for one episode, was a very good beginning for a newcomer.
The part itself was not difficult.
The series centered on a family living on Long Island.
Raymond Barone worked as a sportswriter.
His wife stayed home with their daughter and twin boys.
It was a warm, recognizable middle-class family, even if the husband and wife bickered now and then.
The comedy came from the people around them: in-laws, neighbors, friends, and now the character Adrian had been asked to play, a young Italian player making a name for himself in college basketball whom Raymond had to interview.
It was easy enough to understand.
Reese wanted the humor of a language barrier.
As long as Adrian could create the feeling of two serious people having entirely different conversations, the scene would work.
Sitcoms had a lot in common with stage comedy.
The performance could be a little bigger than life.
The key was knowing exactly how far to push.
As Adrian worked through the scene, noise rose near the soundstage entrance.
He looked up.
Eric Reese stood with a middle-aged man, speaking in a tight, impatient voice.
It did not take long before Reese came storming back.
“Adrian.
Come here.” He didn’t explain, and Adrian didn’t ask.
Reese called over several others, then led them all outside to the same trailer where he and Frederick had negotiated earlier.
At his signal, Adrian performed the scene with what appeared to be the other man’s assistant.
It was not long.
Raymond interviewed the player.
One asked questions, the other answered.
Because of the language gap and the mix of English and Italian, the questions and answers kept sliding past each other while both men stayed perfectly serious.
Only at the end did they realize how badly they had misunderstood each other.
That was the joke.
Adrian sensed what they wanted and pushed himself into the rhythm.
He used voice, expression, and small physical beats to build the imaginary scene.
Not bad.
At least, that was what he thought.
“See?” the middle-aged man said once the reading ended.
“That’s the problem with newcomers.
He works hard, sure, but he’s missing something.” “Is that right?” Reese used the man’s full name without a hint of politeness.
“Funny, Jeremy Stevenson, because I don’t see it that way.
Yes, he’s new.
No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that performance.” “Can we not drag personal conflict into the work, Eric?” Stevenson frowned.
“You’re the one dragging personal conflict into the work.” Reese’s voice turned sharp.
“Fine,” Stevenson said with a shrug.
“I won’t argue.
Let’s take it to the executive producer.” “You want him to decide?
Fine.
Let’s have him decide.” Reese agreed at once.
Then everyone left the trailer.
“Wait here,” Reese told Adrian.
He climbed into a studio lot cart and drove toward what looked like the production offices.
Adrian had no idea what was happening, but none of it felt good.
After asking around, he learned that the other man was Jeremy Stevenson, another writer and producer on Everybody Loves Raymond.
So there it was.
Internal politics.
He waited.
And waited.
Two full hours passed.
It had already been afternoon when Frederick came to negotiate, and by the time those two hours were gone, the production was nearly done for the day.
Crew members streamed out of the soundstage.
Some of the background actors glanced his way, their looks full of open or badly hidden satisfaction.
Adrian’s unease grew heavier.
“You’re still here?” The voice reached him after the soundstage had almost emptied.
Adrian turned.
The assistant who had read opposite him earlier stood outside with a faint, amused expression.
Adrian did not know what answer would help, so he stayed silent and shrugged.
“You should leave,” the assistant said.
“Workday’s over.
They usually argue about this kind of thing for days.” Adrian held back a sigh.
The chance had been in his hand.
Why did everything have to turn sideways?
He was about to stand when he stopped.
Wait.
A small flash of clarity cut through the frustration.
If he remembered correctly, this assistant worked for Stevenson.
“What, you planning to sit here until tomorrow morning?” the man asked, catching his hesitation.
Now impatience slipped into his tone.
There was something else under it too, a faint superiority that Adrian disliked on sight.
“Mr.
Reese told me to wait here,” Adrian said.
“Then wait.” The answer clearly annoyed him.
He turned and walked away without looking back, his posture saying the word idiot even if his mouth didn’t.
Adrian frowned.
But he stayed where he was.
Another half hour passed.
By then, almost everyone had left, and the soundstage was close to shutting down.
Only then did Eric Reese return in a rush, anger still visible in the set of his shoulders.
When he saw Adrian sitting there, he paused.
For a moment, he looked surprised.
Then he hid it.
“You can go now, Adrian.” Reese waved a hand.
“But be here on time tomorrow morning.” “Yes, sir.” Adrian didn’t say more, but his frown deepened.
Reese sounded as though he were speaking through clenched teeth.
The answer came almost as soon as he drove out onto the street.
His pager went off.
He checked the number.
Frederick.
Lyman Cafe sat at 45 Dentry Street, at a corner location with easy access from several streets.
Traffic stayed light, the prices were reasonable, and in Hollywood that made it popular enough.
Adrian and Frederick had met there last time.
They chose it again, though that earlier conversation had gone badly.
This one might be worse.
“Bruce Willis was taking a drink when it happened,” Frederick said under the cafe umbrella as the sun slid toward the west.
“He almost sprayed the whole table.
He got his hand over his mouth in time, but enough leaked out that everyone lost it…” The agent told the story like it was funny.
Adrian sat across from him, uninterested.
“Fred,” he said after the joke finally ended, “it’s getting late.
Talk business.” Frederick went quiet.
His eyes drifted away for a while, and for once he seemed to be stalling.
At last, he looked back at Adrian.
“I want you to give up the role.” ✦ ✦ ✦ Ready for more?
CREATORS’ THOUGHTS TheBacklot Thank you for reading.
I hope this chapter drew you further into the story.
Stick around, because there’s still a lot waiting just ahead.