Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙 ✦ “What are you talking about?” Adrian did not bother hiding his surprise.
He had known Frederick’s face meant bad news.
In their previous meetings, the agent had made jokes, but never like this.
Still, Adrian had not expected him to say, flat out, that he should give up the role.
“I know how this sounds, Adrian, but listen to me.” Frederick lifted one hand and made himself sound as sincere as possible.
Adrian wanted to snap.
For a second, he almost did.
In the end, he swallowed it.
“Go ahead.” “This is on me.” The agent let out a breath.
“After your call, I was…
too surprised.
I didn’t take enough time to dig for details, and now we’re here.” He paused, then continued.
“Short version: Eric Reese and Jeremy Stevenson, the two writer-producers on Everybody Loves Raymond, hate each other.
You were Reese’s pick, which means Stevenson is going to make you a target.
Under normal circumstances, that wouldn’t matter much.
You’d have one episode, maybe another if the ratings were strong.
But this isn’t normal.
Stevenson is trying to push Reese out, and he’s already convinced David Letterman, one of the executive producers, to back him.
Stevenson has been on the show longer.
He has the advantage.
Do you know what that means?
You walked into a fight you had no business touching.
One wrong move and your career could be over before it starts.” “That’s it?” Adrian narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.
“That’s why I’m supposed to walk away from a chance I fought to get?” “Did you not hear me?” Frederick gave a sharp, humorless laugh.
He sounded close to losing his temper.
“No matter what you do, you’re picking a side.
Whoever loses will take it out on you, and right now you have no way to protect yourself.” “Someone pressured you.” Adrian’s gaze cooled.
“Stevenson?” “…Yes.
He called me.” Frederick threw both hands up, irritated at being read so easily.
“But I’m trying to protect you, Adrian.
If you had any name recognition…” “Protect me?” That lit the match.
“I’ve heard that line enough times.
I don’t need you repeating it.
I know you used to represent Sandra Bullock and George Clooney, Fred, but apparently you still don’t understand why they fired you.” “Oh?
Is that right?” Frederick snapped back.
“I didn’t realize you’d become such an expert on Hollywood.
Then tell me, genius.
What are you going to do when Reese or Stevenson decides to use you as a punching bag?
What are you going to do when they freeze you out of every room before you ever get inside?” “That’s still better than doing nothing.” Adrian’s voice rose to meet his.
“Fight for every chance.
That’s what you told me.
I finally get one, and now you want me to quit?
What am I supposed to do next?
Sell my ass and hope somebody remembers my name?” “I told you this is reality.” Frederick’s anger broke loose.
“This is the damn reality.
No one here is going to rearrange the world for you.
Your friends aren’t here to jump whenever you call.
This town doesn’t bend just because you want something badly enough.
Effort doesn’t guarantee a reward.
Some people get lucky and take what they want without breaking a sweat.
Some people work until they bleed and still lose because of things they never controlled.” The argument had drawn looks from nearby tables.
Fortunately, neither man had lost all sense.
Once they noticed, both of them shut their mouths and forced themselves to breathe.
After a long moment, Frederick spoke again.
“Listen to me, Adrian.
If you were even slightly known, I wouldn’t tell you to back out.
If you already had a few credits, you could sit in your chair and let them tear each other apart.
But you haven’t.
To them, you’re a nobody.
An expendable nobody.
No one cares what happens to you.
No one is going to help you.
No one except me.” Once his temper had settled, his voice turned rougher and more earnest.
“I still think you have potential.
That’s exactly why you need a first step that doesn’t destroy you.
The fight between Reese and Stevenson is going to get ugly.
If you get dragged into it and your side wins, fine.
Maybe.
But if the other side wins, you could spend years paying for it.
I’m telling you to step back so you can survive.
You don’t have to show your face.
I’ll handle the conversation.
If I get the right opening, I might even turn it into a promise for later.” Adrian stayed silent.
Streetlights began clicking on one by one before he finally lifted his head.
“I’m sorry, Fred.
I refuse.” He straightened, and his eyes were unusually bright.
“I know the world isn’t fair.
I know some people are born with more.
That is not a reason for me to stop fighting.
I’m not an idealist.
I only know one thing: once I decide to do something, I do it with everything I have.
I worked for this chance.
I don’t know when the next one will come.
I don’t want to sell myself or crawl for scraps from people I don’t respect, so I refuse to trade it for a promise that may never exist.” “How many times do I have to say it?
Giving it up now is about your future…” “I don’t live in the past, and I don’t live in the future.
I live now.” Adrian cut him off.
“What I can grab is now.
If I fail, if I get thrown out of Hollywood, I can live with that as long as I know I gave it everything.
I came here with nothing.
I don’t have anything worth protecting yet, so why shouldn’t I put it all on the line?
To borrow every corny family movie this town ever made, I don’t want to end up old, sitting in a chair, wondering what might’ve happened if I’d held on a little longer.” He stood and planted both hands on the small round table.
Looking down at Frederick, he seemed almost lit from the inside.
“I understand your position.
I don’t expect miracles from you, Fred.
But maybe one day I will bow and scrape.
Maybe one day I’ll kneel in front of someone and beg for a chance.
But it will not be today.
Maybe one day I’ll be broke, forgotten, and unable to leave even the smallest mark on this world.
But it will not be today.
Today, I don’t care what stands in front of me.
Even if I end up bloodied for it, I am not giving up.” Every word landed hard.
Adrian exhaled, turned, and walked out.
Frederick stared after him as if his brain had stopped working.
When Adrian reached the street, the agent instinctively lifted a hand.
Only then did he snap back to himself.
“Damn kid.
Who the hell does he think he is?” Frederick dropped his head and clawed both hands through his hair, growling under his breath.
“Everything I said, and he heard none of it?” “How did I not see how stubborn he was?” “Does he actually think he’s somebody?” Again and again, his fist rose toward the table.
Again and again, he stopped before it landed.
Something bitter and hard spread through his chest.
It ate at him until he wanted to shout.
His clenched hand began to shake.
Unbelievable.
Just unbelievable.
Frederick sucked in air.
He knew what this feeling was.
It was resentment.
He should have laughed at Adrian’s speech.
That kind of innocence, that kind of reckless overconfidence, usually led nowhere.
But the words kept echoing in his chest.
They found something there, something old and painful, and memories he had buried began clawing their way up.
He also knew that a rational agent, one with nearly ten years in the business, even if a third of that had been mailroom and assistant work, shouldn’t let emotion take control.
But in that moment, he did.
At last Frederick lifted his head, stared at the figure moving farther away, and stood so abruptly the chair scraped against the pavement.
“Adrian!” He chased after him and caught the young man just as Adrian was reaching for his car.
“Listen to me.” Frederick grabbed him by the collar, pulled him close, and jabbed a finger into his chest.
“I can help you.
But you do exactly what I say.
Everything.
Exactly.
And you do it as well as you possibly can.
Do you understand?” They stared at each other for a long time.
Finally, Adrian nodded.
“I understand.” “Good.
I need three things from you.” Frederick spoke fast now.
“First, you still have the script, right?
Break down the character as far as you can.
Every trait, every angle, every way you might play him.
Practice all of it.
I don’t care which version they ask for; you make it as close to perfect as you can.
At least ten times better than what you did in that bank.” Adrian nodded.
“Second, you’re already Reese’s man.
So stand with him completely.
Completely.
Whatever Stevenson offers, whatever threats he makes, you do not move.
And you make sure Reese knows it.” “All right.” “Third, you’re new.
Completely new.
So around Reese, stay humble.
He has a temper, and he can be arrogant.
Do not try to tell him what to do.
Your job is to keep answering, ‘Yes, sir.’ That’s it.
Let him see you are completely in his corner.” “I understand,” Adrian said, solemn now.
“I’ll do everything I can.” “Then that’s it.
I’ll handle the rest.” Frederick turned and walked away without explaining exactly what he planned to do.
If Adrian had chosen to trust him, then he had to trust him all the way.
“I must be out of my mind,” the agent muttered once he was inside his car, tugging at his collar.
He did not look especially regretful.
If anything, he looked faintly excited.
As he pulled into traffic, he started dialing.
“Hey, Anna.
Anna Gordon.
It’s me.
Yes, Fred.
Listen to me.
I know you still have one invitation left for that CBS reception at the Hilton tonight…
Good.
Give it to me.
I need it…
Damn it, don’t bargain with me, you shameless woman.
You still owe me a favor.” ✦ ✦ ✦ 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.