Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙 ✦ “I borrowed the script from one of the assistant directors,” Coleman said during a break, leaning close to Adrian’s ear as if he were passing state secrets.
“I can’t swear to the whole thing, but Shawn Hatosy’s part?
I could absolutely play that.” Adrian gave the smallest shake of his head.
After a few weeks around Coleman, his opinion of the man had started to change.
Coleman didn’t just want to make it.
He burned for it.
Every day, every conversation, every little movement around set came back to landing some role that would make him famous overnight.
Adrian couldn’t quite understand it.
Having a goal was good.
Fighting for it was good.
Coleman had some acting ability too.
But ambition without direction could make a man reach for things he wasn’t ready to carry.
Survival came first.
How was someone supposed to beg a director for a role when he couldn’t even keep himself fed?
Or put another way: if a man couldn’t hold his own life together, why should anyone trust him to hold a character together?
None of that could be said now.
Adrian wasn’t the type to lecture people for sport, and he had just landed a speaking bit in front of Coleman.
Rubbing salt into that would be ugly.
So he only smiled and reminded him, “You’ve mentioned that a few times.
Unfortunately, the reshoots don’t include Hatosy’s scenes.
If Rodriguez adds a scene, maybe you can land a small bit.” “That’d still be something.” Coleman sighed, eyes fixed on the trailers reserved for the principal actors.
“Maybe it’d get me in front of the director or a producer.” No one had written the hierarchy down, but a set made it obvious.
Leads had their own trailers.
They ate in different areas.
Background actors and principal actors could work ten feet apart all day and still never truly speak.
Adrian knew who Coleman was watching.
For all his talk about being right for a supporting role, what he really wanted was the male lead.
The boy playing that part was around Adrian’s age, with dark-brown curls, a soft face, and striking blue eyes.
There was something familiar about him.
Adrian’s attention, however, kept drifting toward the actress playing opposite him.
Long, dark hair made her look direct and alert.
Her complexion had a healthy warmth to it, her face was a little square, and her features had an athletic sharpness that kept her from looking delicate.
Her dark, strong brows made her face especially distinctive.
She carried herself well too, balanced and confident, with an athletic figure that made jeans look effortless.
“You thinking about hitting on her?” Coleman asked when he noticed.
“Since when is appreciating a beautiful woman a crime?” Adrian said with a shrug.
“Come on, man.
She’s a real actor.
She’s already had parts.
People like her and people like us are in different worlds.
Hitting on her?
Even getting a conversation would be hard.” There was a faint edge in Coleman’s voice, too small to catch if Adrian had been paying less attention.
“Maybe.” Adrian rubbed his chin, then smiled.
“Maybe not.” He grabbed a bottle of water and walked toward the young lead, who was leaning against a prop crate and staring into space.
Coleman opened his mouth as if to say something, then didn’t.
“Oh, man, sorry.” Adrian made the bump look accidental, knocked the actor’s water bottle from his hand, and immediately crouched to pick it up.
“Didn’t mean to do that.” “It’s fine,” the other boy said with an easy smile.
That settled half of Adrian’s nerves at once.
“Hope I didn’t ruin your water.” “Don’t worry about it.
I don’t even like this brand.” “Fair.
It tastes flat.” Adrian lifted his own bottle.
“I like Mountain Spring better.” It was a stupid opening.
It worked.
Within minutes, they had slipped into an easy conversation.
“It’s not that complicated,” the actor was saying a little later.
“I got picked on in high school too.
You just have to stop acting like you’re waiting for permission to push back.
Anyway, I’m Elijah.
Elijah Wood.” “Adrian.
Adrian Vale.” Adrian introduced himself and flicked a quick glance to the side.
Right on cue, a bright voice called out, “Elijah, have you seen my hair clip?
I put it on the chair before we shot.” The young actress came over, lively and smiling, and stopped in front of them.
Elijah rolled his eyes automatically.
“No, Jordana, I haven’t seen it.
You really need to stop leaving things everywhere.” “Don’t use that voice with me, Elijah.
If your powers of observation were a little better, maybe we’d be done with reshoots today.” She said it with a wicked little smile, clearly teasing him.
The exchange felt more sibling-like than romantic.
Then she noticed him.
“Hi.” “Hi,” Adrian said.
“I’m Jordana.
Jordana Brewster.” The young actress looked at him openly, without the practiced wall that older or more famous actors put up.
She was young, this was her first feature, and she hadn’t yet developed the guarded polish of a bigger star.
There wasn’t much status armor yet.
That was why Adrian had dared come over.
With a bigger star, he would have needed another method entirely.
“Adrian Vale,” he said.
“Background actor.
One of the alien-controlled football players chasing Wood under your command.” Then, with solemn importance, he added, “For the record, if you give the word, I can catch him immediately.” Jordana burst out laughing.
“You’re funny, Vale.” “You can call me Adrian.
And I’m serious.” “Even if the director throws you off set?” Elijah asked dryly.
“Of course.” Adrian made it sound noble enough that Jordana laughed harder.
“How long have you been doing background work?” she asked after that, curious now.
“Only a couple of weeks.
I needed a job that gave me time to plan how I’m going to drive across North America.” “Drive across North America?” Jordana and Elijah both looked surprised.
“Yeah.
I’ve wanted to do it for a long time.
I came down from San Francisco not long after graduation.
While I’m still young, curious, and reckless enough to try, I want to see things for myself.” Adrian lifted both hands with an easy, sunlit smile.
“Seems like the right time.” “Wow,” Jordana said.
“That’s not exactly easy.” Elijah nodded.
“No,” Adrian said, expression turning more sincere.
“But I don’t want to regret never trying.” Just like that, he had the rhythm of the conversation.
He spent the next while talking with Jordana and Elijah, and the three of them got along better than he had any right to expect.
“Well?” Coleman asked when Adrian finally came back.
“Well what?” Adrian’s grin gave him away.
“Damn, man.” Coleman tried to hide it, but jealousy still slipped through his voice.
“Maybe you should invite her out for a drink tonight too.” “There’ll be time.” Adrian clapped him on the shoulder and laughed.
“I got her number.” “Seriously?” Coleman’s eyes widened.
“Why would I lie about that?” “Damn, man,” Coleman said again.
This time he sounded calmer.
Almost too calm.
As if he had decided something.
Adrian, too pleased with the phone number to notice, paid for that.
* * * The next morning, Adrian arrived at the Home Improvement set hours late.
“Sorry, Adrian.
That’s impossible.
Call time was hours ago.” The director waved a hand and kept walking toward the set, where the crew was already building the restaurant scene.
“Please hear me out, sir.” Sweat had broken across Adrian’s forehead as he hurried after him.
“Please, just listen.” “There’s nothing to hear.
You’re late, and we found someone to cover you.
Simple as that.
A production doesn’t delay for one actor.
Our schedule is packed.” “But…” Adrian’s mind scrambled for something useful and found nothing.
“Also,” the director added, glancing at Adrian’s messy hair, “don’t come back.
Payroll will settle what we owe you.” “What?
Why?” The shock hit before he could control it.
“The police came to your place this morning, didn’t they?” the director asked.
“They also came here.” “But they only asked questions,” Adrian said quickly.
“It was about a club two streets over.
Some cocaine thing.
They thought I was there, but I wasn’t.” “Maybe.” The director’s expression did not change.
“But this is Home Improvement, one of ABC’s biggest family sitcoms.
We can’t have scandal.
Not even possible scandal.
The assistant director explained that when you signed on.” Adrian made several useless gestures, still trying to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.
“That’s it,” the director said.
“Go settle with payroll.
Don’t make me call security.” He went back onto the set, leaving Adrian alone outside.
Adrian pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a low groan.
How had everything turned this bad in one night?
He had gotten drunk.
Damn it, he had actually gotten drunk.
A hard, trapped feeling spread through his chest.
His fists clenched, but there was nowhere to throw them.
He wanted to shout until his throat tore.
Then, as an assistant called people into position, he saw a familiar figure walking in with the crowd.
The man wore a waiter’s uniform.
Coleman.
Coleman Vincent.
Shock rose across Adrian’s face.
Then pieces from the night before flashed through his mind one after another, bright and ugly, and everything came together.
Coleman noticed him too.
Almost immediately, he turned his head away as if he hadn’t seen Adrian at all.
His neck tucked in slightly, guilty despite the act.
Anger ignited.
Adrian had honestly thought of Coleman as a friend.
Not a close one, maybe, but not a stranger either.
And Coleman had done this.
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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.