Year 2014, Wilshire Boulevard, Beverly Hills
The Circle Agency lobby was already loud when Ronan pushed the doors open.
Inside, the place was busy and full of energy, people moving fast in every direction. Ronan sighed at the sight of it and walked in, his steps slow and a little unsteady, as if the energy in the place only pointed up how little of it he had.
At nineteen, he was better-looking than most men who came through those doors. Dark hair, eyes a deep ocean blue, the kind of face that turned girls’ heads across a room. But his shoulders were hunched and his eyes were worn thin, and all of it added up to something closer to a man barely holding on. He kept to the edge of the room and made for the elevators, hoping to reach them before anyone noticed him.
No such luck.
"Ronan!"
He turned. A young man was coming toward him, a year younger and a good deal brighter about his own prospects, and beside him walked a pretty young woman with red hair.
"Eric. Anna." Ronan gave them a small nod, nothing behind it.
The two had signed with the agency long after he had, and both were already further along than he was. Eric had landed a lead in a scripted series. Anna had a supporting part on a comedy show people actually watched.
Eric closed the distance with an easy smile. "Hey, Ronan. Let me guess, you’re here to ask the agent for another role?"
"Yeah." Ronan didn’t dress it up. "Rent’s coming due, and the bills on top of it, and I’ve got to cover all of it somehow. If I don’t, my landlord’s already made it real clear he’ll throw me out."
Eric tilted his head, his face folding into something meant to look like sympathy. "Man, that’s rough. So how long’s it been now since you had an actual project going?"
Ronan could see it plain enough, that Eric didn’t feel a thing for him and only liked hearing him say it out loud. They weren’t friends and never had been. Still, he answered.
"Nothing’s come through in about a month now."
"A month?!" Eric’s eyes went wide. "How are you even keeping the lights on?"
Beside him, Anna’s mouth parted a little at that.
"I’ve been picking up whatever part-time work I can find," Ronan said. "Cashier shifts down at a grocery store, running errands for a bar. The usual stuff."
The two of them gave him all the pity they could manage and wished him luck on the next one.
Ronan dipped his head and left them there, heading for the elevator.
Anna watched him go. "He really does have it tough, Eric." She kept her voice low. "What do you think, is the agent actually going to give him a major role this time?"
Eric laughed short through his nose. "Honestly? I doubt it. You know what everyone still calls him around here." He said it like the name alone settled the question. "Forever Extra. And it fits, doesn’t it? Even the roles he does land never turn out to be more than an extra."
Anna’s face pulled into a frown of sympathy. "Yeah. Poor guy. Five years he’s been with the agency, and he’s still stuck playing extras."
"The only reason Ronan’s even here is that sitcom," Eric said. "He got a little famous off it, and it was what, one short scene in a single episode. Circle Agency signed him betting he had some kind of potential." He shrugged. "Turns out they bet wrong."
Anna held the sympathy a moment longer, then let it go as quickly as it had come. "Ugh, you know what? Forget about it. Let’s go shopping."
Eric brightened. "Oh yeah? What are you after this time? The latest Chanel again?"
"I can’t help it." Anna smiled. "Their bags are everything to me..."
***
Meanwhile, behind one of the agency’s office doors, the mood was a good deal colder.
Robert Wright, an agent in his thirties with real years in the business behind him, was on his feet while a much younger man lounged in his chair.
That younger man was Ken Circle, barely out of his early twenties, son of the agency’s Chairman, and he sat sprawled behind Robert’s own desk like he owned every brick of the building.
Ken let his gaze drift around the room. "You’ve got a decent office here, Robert. I’ll give you that much."
Robert was the older of the two, and he knew exactly how little respect the kid was showing him, but he smiled all the same. "Thank you, boss."
"So." Ken tipped his head. "Did you take care of what I told you to?"
"You mean cutting loose the actors who aren’t worth the time or the money?" Robert waited for the small nod, then went on. "I’m on it, boss. The ones whose contracts were already up, I let them lapse, didn’t renew a single one. The ones still locked in, I’ve been leaning on them to tear up the deal by mutual agreement, so we don’t have to buy our way out of the terms."
"Very good. That’s exactly how I wanted it handled." Ken pushed himself up and clapped Robert on the shoulder. "Keep it up. I’ll see to it my old man hears about the good work you’re doing in here."
"Thank you."
"By the way." Ken paused, as if something had only just surfaced. "I hear there’s still one actor of yours you haven’t cleared out yet. What’s his name again?" He made a show of reaching for it. "The one with the... reputation. Hard not to know a guy like that. Ronan, wasn’t it? Ronan Mercer?"
The back of Robert’s neck went hot. "Yes. That’s right, sir."
"So what are you keeping him around for? Go on, cut him loose already."
Robert straightened a touch too quickly. "I’m on it, sir. His contract’s up in a few weeks anyway, so I’ve mostly been letting it run out on its own. But I can push things along, no trouble at all."
"Good. I’ll be waiting to hear it’s done." And with that, Ken walked out.
Robert saw him to the door. The second it clicked shut, the warm smile slid off his face and left something tired and mean behind it. He sank into his chair. "Damn brat," he muttered. "Struts in here like he’s king of the whole place, orders me around like some fucking servant. If it weren’t for that competent father of his, the kid wouldn’t be worth a fucking thing—"
The word caught in his throat. A knock at the door.
Robert’s stomach lurched at the thought of Ken back on the other side of it, having heard every last word.
He pressed the warm smile back into place and pulled the door open. "Ye-yes, Ken?"
But the man in the hallway wasn’t Ken. It was the agency’s very own Forever Extra, Ronan Mercer.
Robert’s smile soured into annoyance. "You bas— you scared the hell out of me."
"What?" Ronan blinked. "I didn’t even do anything."
Robert shook his head and let it go. "Never mind. Come in. There’s something important I need to talk to you about."
Ronan stepped inside. Once Robert had settled back behind the desk, Ronan got in first.
"So, like you can see, I came by in case you’ve got a role for me." He kept it plain and level. "I haven’t had a project in a month now. Rent and bills are still piling up on me." He added, "I know what my reputation is. The extra guy. That’s fine, I’ll take it. Whatever extra work you’ve got, I’ll do it."
Robert nodded, arranging his face into something sympathetic. "Yes, yes. It’s a rough spot, I hear you. But you see, there’s actually another, more serious matter I need to bring up with you..."