Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙 ✦ Adrian had never planned to stay in the business for long.
Actors, movie stars, celebrity careers – all of that felt far away from him.
After two lives, he was easier to satisfy than most people would have guessed.
He took the extra work because he needed to eat.
If he were not fairly sure that telling Frederick the truth would make the agent tear him apart, he might already have admitted it.
Either way, Adrian was satisfied with the job for now.
The work was steady.
Endeavor had placed him there, and that was one of the services they offered, so he didn’t have to worry constantly about finding the next set.
Of course, he couldn’t compare himself to union actors.
Union productions reserved a minimum number of covered background positions, and those actors earned contract rates.
Still, steady work meant steady pay.
At roughly fifty or sixty dollars a day, four solid days of work could bring in around two hundred dollars.
Overtime could push it higher.
He was still nonunion and nowhere near covered rates, which was exactly why Frederick had pushed him to work toward eligibility.
Unfortunately, Adrian wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was near bankruptcy.
Where was he supposed to find initiation fees and dues once he qualified?
Any serious union path would cost more than he had.
Union membership also came with base dues and work dues, separate from anything an agent took.
For someone still counting grocery money, even distant future costs felt heavy.
Like the government, maybe.
Squeeze the middle and let the rich breathe.
He couldn’t remember whether that line had come from his father or someone else.
Apart from the money, the job was surprisingly easy.
Most days, Adrian sat at a round table with a newspaper raised in front of him, or stood on a fake street pretending to talk to someone.
The crew provided lunch.
No real acting required.
For the moment, he could hardly ask for a better arrangement.
It gave him room to straighten out his life, think seriously about what came next, and make actual plans.
Running headfirst to Los Angeles with no margin for error wasn’t a mistake he intended to repeat.
So the first two weeks of October became the easiest Adrian had had since arriving in Los Angeles.
By day, he worked as a background actor.
At night, he went to parties with new acquaintances, stayed home playing with Puck, read, browsed the internet, and tried to map out a future that made sense.
Of course, there were still things he had to deal with.
“Don’t give me that, Lacey.
Look at yourself.
What gives you the right to lecture me?” Adrian stared at the man sitting across from him, voice sharp with irritation.
His eyes cut sideways, teeth almost clenched, but there was uncertainty under the anger too, a flicker of helplessness he let show only in flashes.
“I wasn’t trying to lecture you…” the middle-aged man in glasses replied, expression flat.
“Don’t give me that crap!” Adrian’s shout cut him off.
“All right.
That’s enough.” At the voice from off to one side, the tension left Adrian’s shoulders.
Several people sat nearby.
One person sat behind a small video camera recording the audition.
Another wore a look of practiced indifference, as if none of this had anything to do with him.
Three more leaned close together, murmuring among themselves.
“Thank you, Mr.
Vale.” A few minutes later, a bearded man in a black T-shirt stood.
He looked about forty.
“That will be all.” He gestured toward the door.
“Mr.
Hewes…” Adrian looked at him as they walked out, hoping for some sign of whether he had landed the role.
To be fair, Frederick had proven he knew his job.
In three or four weeks, he had gotten Adrian three auditions: a small part on the hit sitcom Frasier and supporting roles in two teen films with budgets around twenty million.
He had been eliminated at the first audition for two of them.
But with The Big Break, a film about young people chasing their dreams, he had made it all the way to the final round.
Adrian still didn’t plan to become an actor as some grand life mission.
But if a good role came along, why not?
He had done plays and musicals in school.
He had placed in a national high school competition.
Pretending he had no desire to perform would have been a lie.
A role with room to work, plus a decent paycheck, would help him save money faster.
And who knew?
Maybe he could even land the lead.
This audition hadn’t started with one fixed role.
From the first read to callbacks, Adrian had read for several roles.
“Easy, Mr.
Vale.
Don’t get ahead of yourself.” David Hewes, the film’s casting director, walked beside him with an easy smile and patted his shoulder.
For some reason, Adrian kept feeling that there was something else in that smile.
Something familiar.
“Everyone,” Hewes said once they left the audition room.
He gathered the remaining actors who had reached the final round.
“You all did excellent work.
Honestly, it isn’t easy to decide who fits best.
I’m sending your audition tapes and materials to the producers so they can make the final call.
Please wait for our response.
Understood?” “Yes, Mr.
Hewes.” The candidates nodded.
Adrian nodded with them.
He was disappointed, but not devastated.
His attitude toward all this was still light enough that he could let it go.
At least, that was what he thought.
As he was about to leave, Hewes touched his arm lightly.
Adrian looked back, puzzled, then noticed the man’s eyes.
A few possibilities flickered through his mind.
In the end, he slowed down, waited for the others to move ahead, and followed Hewes into a side corridor.
“You’re from San Francisco, aren’t you, Mr.
Vale?” “Yes.” “Beautiful city.” Hewes smiled in a way that made the words feel like they carried more weight than they should.
“I once thought about moving there.
Hollywood has plenty of actors from San Francisco.” The comment barely connected to anything, but his tone made it sound like professional small talk.
“Listen, Adrian.” Hewes finally reached the point.
“Personally, I think you and Randy Keitel are the best fits for the lead.
The producers and investors don’t necessarily see it that way.
So I’ll ask you directly.
Do you want the role?” “Of course,” Adrian said, face carefully neutral.
“Good.” Hewes narrowed his eyes slightly, as if pleased by the answer.
“Two nights from now, our company is hosting a party at Winston Bar in Beverly Hills.
If you’re willing to attend, I can introduce you to them there.
From that point on, it will be up to you to win them over.” Adrian thought for a few seconds.
“Did Keitel get an invitation too?” Randy Keitel was one of the actors who had reached the final round.
Adrian hadn’t seen enough of him to judge his acting, but he was another handsome, sunny-looking young guy.
“Of course,” Hewes said.
“All right.
I’ll be there.” Something still felt wrong, but Adrian agreed anyway.
“Excellent.
Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll call both of you separately and set up a place to talk through the details.” His unease deepened, though he kept his expression neutral.
“Understood.” “That’s all, then.” Hewes patted his shoulder again, and that unreadable amusement surfaced on his face once more.
‘What the hell is he after?’ Back in his car outside the studio offices, Adrian sat behind the wheel and stared through the windshield.
His instincts told him something was off.
He just couldn’t identify what.
The man’s gaze had been familiar, but not in any good way.
Adrian scratched his head and glanced at the studio buildings in the distance.
Why did it feel familiar?
What had been behind those comments?
And why ask whether he was from San Francisco?
Wait.
His eyes widened.
Then it clicked.
The conclusion felt absurd, but it fit every hint Hewes had given him.
“Damn it.” He smacked the steering wheel, then gave a bitter little laugh.
This was ridiculous.
It had to be.
After another moment of thought, he got out of the car, found a pay phone, and dialed.
“Hey, Fred?
It’s Adrian.
Yeah…
Are you free right now?
I need to talk to you…
Okay.
I’ll meet you there.” * * * “So you’re saying…” Frederick took several seconds to process what Adrian had told him.
They sat at a small sidewalk table under a cafe umbrella, and his expression settled into something halfway between amusement and pity.
“He wants to sleep with you?” “No question.” Adrian looked irritated and embarrassed at the same time.
“The private invitation, the follow-up meeting, and the role hanging over all of it made the implication obvious.” Hewes being attracted to men was irrelevant.
What mattered was the leverage.
He controlled access to the role, and he seemed to expect Adrian to trade sex for a chance.
If Adrian hadn’t been in Los Angeles for five months, half-starved and buried in plans for the future, he probably would have recognized the setup immediately.
That, combined with the little hints, made Hewes’s real intention hard to miss.
“You called me out for this?” Frederick asked calmly.
“What, you couldn’t find a store that sells Vaseline and condoms?” “What the hell is wrong with you?” Adrian’s brow furrowed.
“You don’t think using a role to pressure someone into sex is disgusting?
I’m straight, but that isn’t the point.
The leverage is.” “Then why are you here?” Frederick let out a quiet breath.
“I wanted to know what’s going on.” Adrian waved a hand, still annoyed.
“Fine.
Then tell me honestly.” Frederick drew in a breath and leaned forward.
“What do you want, Adrian?” ✦ ✦ ✦ 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.