Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙 ✦ “…No business is as competitive as entertainment, because what you can get, or even what you might get, is so much larger than what you put in.
Especially for young actors.
One movie hits, and suddenly they can make more money than an ordinary family will see in a lifetime.
Macaulay Culkin was fourteen in 1994 and already earning eight million dollars for a film.” Frederick smiled bitterly after talking, on and off, for most of the afternoon.
“Stars are like that.
Agents are too.
If you can’t get your client what he wants, you lose him.
Without clients, you have no reason to exist.
So if you don’t want to be replaced, you give things up.
That’s reality.
When you have value, people flatter you until you’re sick of it.
You can do almost anything.
Once you lose that value, they won’t bother looking at you twice.” His voice dropped.
“I haven’t come up here to drink in a long time.” “Everyone needs something they won’t give up,” Adrian said.
He had listened quietly the whole time.
Now he looked out at the city.
“I know what you’re trying to say, Fred.
Yes, I understand.
If you want to survive here, or anywhere, really survive and live better, you have to change some things.
I don’t object to that.
Even the rare geniuses can’t force the whole world to adjust to them.
People like us definitely can’t.
But…” He hopped down from the hood of his own car, root beer bottle in hand, and stood beside Frederick.
Below them, the city was beginning to glitter under the last light of the sun.
“There still has to be something you keep.
Yes, you’ve given up plenty.
You’ve changed yourself again and again to fit the world.
Maybe you can live well that way.
Maybe even better.
But…” He pointed toward Los Angeles.
“How many people down there are just like you?
Polished.
Flexible.
No edges left.
What makes you different from them, or them from you?
What are you doing that belongs only to you?
Something truly Frederick Rogers.
Something no one else can claim.” Images from both lives flickered through Adrian’s mind.
He had changed more than he liked to admit.
Skin, face, even temperament.
If he had to, he could swallow his pride.
He could flatter people.
He could adapt.
But some things could not be changed.
“There are things worth holding on to,” he said.
“Lines worth keeping.
If I change those too, then whatever’s left won’t be me.” Adrian drew a breath and finished the root beer in his bottle.
“At first, I just wanted to keep myself afloat.
I wasn’t serious about becoming an actor, let alone a star.
But now I want to keep going.
This is only one failure.
I still have time.
I can fail a lot more before I run out.
It’s like a game.
There may be plenty of time on the clock, but if you quit, the game is over.” Frederick turned and studied him for a long while.
“I hate representing people like you, Adrian.
Smart.
Prepared.
Serious when it matters.
And when you’re stubborn, nothing moves you.” Then he suddenly smiled.
“But maybe trying isn’t the worst idea.” He looked out at the city again.
“I just turned thirty.
People say thirty is a fresh start.
However many stupid things you did before, if you correct them after thirty, you can still make something of yourself.
I don’t think everything I did before was stupid, but I do think I can try.” The agent tipped back the rest of his beer, straightened his clothes, and held out a hand.
“All right.
Let’s start over.
Frederick Rogers, agent at Endeavor Talent Agency.
Honored to represent you.” Adrian blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift.
The solemnity made the moment feel half like a movie, half like a cartoon gag.
He almost laughed.
In the end, he took the hand.
“Adrian Vale.
New actor.
Glad to be represented by you.” Then he did laugh.
Frederick broke a second later.
The two of them stood on the slope and laughed harder and harder, like a pair of idiots, and somehow the humiliation of the day faded with it.
“By the way,” Frederick said once they had calmed down, “you said acting was only a way to deal with money at first.
Does that mean once you saved enough, you were planning to quit?” “I think, since we just reintroduced ourselves, we can let the past go.” “No, no.
I need to know what was in your head.
Was that speech of yours a lie?” “Come on, Fred.
Obsessing over that is meaningless.
Do I look like a liar?” “Yes.
Very much.” They were still laughing and needling each other when Adrian’s pager vibrated.
He checked the number, and his brow tightened.
“Hey, Fred.
Can I borrow your phone?” “Sure.” Frederick did not think much of it.
He grabbed the mobile from his car and tossed it over.
Adrian smiled faintly, walked a few steps away, and dialed.
“Naomi?
What…
wait.
Wait, don’t…
What did you say?
Don’t do anything stupid.
Listen to me.
Stay right where you are.
I’m coming now…
I’m up in the Santa Monica Mountains, not far from Mulholland.
It’ll only take a few minutes…
Listen.
Promise me you’ll wait there.
Don’t leave.” He ended the call and tossed the phone back.
“Sorry, Fred.
I have to get down the hill.” “Naomi?” Frederick raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds like a woman’s name.
Girlfriend?” “Just a friend.” “Please.
Sarah Levitt at reception and half the women in the office have mentioned you more than once.” Frederick grinned.
“You’re good with women, aren’t you?” Before Adrian could fire back, Frederick’s expression settled.
“Need help?” “Thanks, but no.
I haven’t had any alcohol.
I’ll be careful.” Adrian rolled his eyes, backed the Ford onto the road, and, just before heading downhill, opened the window and gave Frederick the finger.
Two or three minutes later, he reached Mulholland Drive.
Built in 1924, the winding two-lane road had become one of Hollywood’s landmark routes, threading through the hills above Los Angeles and past neighborhoods where plenty of stars lived behind gates and hedges.
It took another five or six minutes to find the parking lot Naomi had described.
As soon as Adrian turned in, he saw her battered red Dodge.
He knocked on the window, then waved.
Only then did the door unlock.
When he slid into the passenger seat, he saw her eyes first.
They were wet.
Her voice on the phone had already sounded broken.
There was no doubt she had been crying.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Naomi wiped at her mouth and forced a smile.
“I just…
lost control for a minute.
I’m fine now.” “Did someone make trouble for you?
Was it an audition?” She was trying to hold herself together, but Adrian could see how badly she was doing.
She had sounded so confident only recently.
Everyone broke somewhere.
“It’s nothing.
I just…
thank you for coming, but I really…
it’s only…” Her words tangled.
She lifted a hand as if that could make the explanation stronger.
Before she finished, tears rolled down again.
Naomi covered her mouth at once, but a small sob still escaped.
She folded over the steering wheel, shaking.
The small woman who had seemed so determined before was gone.
Curled in the driver’s seat, she looked painfully vulnerable.
Adrian reached for her almost immediately.
He drew her against him and rubbed her back, murmuring whatever comfort he could find.
Naomi did not resist.
If anything, she pressed closer, crying quietly against him as if that was the only place she could feel safe.
She had not finished explaining, but Adrian could guess the shape of it.
Two days earlier she had told him, almost bright with hope, that she was near the final round for a role and had a real chance.
Looking at her now, something had obviously gone wrong.
After his own day, a faint, helpless smile tugged at his mouth.
Still, he kept his voice gentle.
“It’s all right.
It isn’t the end.
It isn’t worth destroying yourself over.” The warm body in his arms did not answer.
Naomi only held him tighter and kept crying.
Adrian sighed.
He understood her pain, but not fully.
How could he?
Naomi had fought for ten years.
If he wanted to calm her down, simple comfort would not be enough.
* * * Night had settled completely by the time the apartment fell quiet.
The lights were off, but the glow from outside still made the room visible.
Empty bottles – beer for Naomi, soda for Adrian – lay scattered across the floor.
A pizza box sat open on the coffee table, several slices untouched, and paper bags had been left wherever they dropped.
Puck sprawled on the floor behind the sofa, bored and wagging his tail now and then.
Every so often he looked toward the bed.
In his limited understanding, his master and the woman who had become part of the den were supposed to play with him, not ignore him.
Sadly, no matter how unhappy he was, he could only stay where he was and listen to the voices from the bed.
“He really said that?
He really said that?” Naomi asked through laughter, astonished.
She looked nothing like the woman who had been crying in the car.
The beer bottle hooked loosely between Naomi’s fingers and the flush on her face explained the difference.
“That’s exactly what he said,” Adrian replied, his own soda bottle in hand.
“Mocking me, proud of himself, like my career had ended forever and I’d never stand up again.” They sat side by side on the bed with their knees bent, shoulders and heads nearly touching, drinking and talking about anything that came to mind.
Eventually the conversation had turned to Adrian’s day.
“Ignore him.” Naomi waved one arm in a wide, tipsy circle.
“People like that are the worst.
They act powerful because they’re borrowing someone else’s power.
Take that away and they’re nothing.
You don’t need to care.” Emotion made her voice louder, livelier.
“You’re smart, and you’re talented.
Sooner or later, you’ll get a role.
I believe that.” “I believe it too.” Adrian turned his head.
“And I believe a beautiful, talented woman like you is going to make it as well.” Naomi went quiet.
She tilted her head back toward the ceiling.
After a long while, she let out a low sigh.
“I don’t know, Adrian.
I don’t know.” Her eyes closed, and her brow drew together as if she hated remembering.
“A lot of people told me the role should be fine.
But after the audition yesterday…
one of the producers told me I was too beautiful.” She laughed, but the sound was sharp with helplessness.
“No one cared about my acting.
No one cared how hard I worked.
To them, I was just…
decoration.” She wrapped both arms around her legs and stopped there.
Adrian heard the pause.
Something lived inside it.
“No, Naomi.
That’s not true.” He took her hand.
“We haven’t known each other long, but I know you’ll be good.
You will.
You just have to keep going.” He looked at her steadily.
“I know I’m still only an extra.
Maybe my words don’t carry much weight.
But part of the reason I want to keep trying is because you’re still trying.
So I hope I get to watch you keep leading the way.
Don’t give up.
Even if it’s only for me.
All right?” Naomi turned toward him with surprise, confusion, and something softer than both.
The room fell silent.
Only their breathing seemed loud.
Something wordless moved between them, a strange resonance between two lonely people who had found each other on the same bad night.
✦ ✦ ✦ 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.