Mark reached for a glass of water and drank, the dilemma sitting heavy on him.
Hill and Jenny both understood what they were putting him through. Mark had given his word to Johnny Miller, and to Johnny’s agent, that the role was theirs. A promise like that wasn’t nothing. And now, out of nowhere, he was being asked to tear it up.
Mark set the glass down. "Fine. Fine. I’ll call Circle Agency and take the promise back." His eyes came up sharp at the two of them. "But this had better be worth it. You understand what it costs me? Connections. Goodwill. Years of it. So the two of you can stand there and be grateful."
"You got it, boss." Hill didn’t blink.
Jenny wasn’t letting it go that easy. "I still don’t get why you promised Johnny Miller the role in the first place, Mark. You know exactly what that guy is. He was never right for it. Never. He only got famous off the Dinsley Series, and that’s television fame, that’s all it is. He doesn’t fit the part, his acting’s flat, and honestly? He’s a comedy guy at best."
Mark rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, ease up, would you? Quit roasting me." He rubbed his temple. "I was drunk, alright? Three drinks deep at a bar with Robert, and I promised him the part right there on the spot. You try walking something like that back."
He wasn’t done defending himself. "And look, Johnny’s huge with the young girls right now. That’s not nothing. The executives signed off when I brought it to them, remember? Because the kid’s a name, and a project like this needs a name attached to it."
Hill snorted. "We’ve got a name. We landed Jane Kingsley for the female lead, or did that slip your mind?"
Jenny kept her mouth shut, but the thought ran through her all the same. ’If we hadn’t happened to stumble onto Ronan, a real gem, you’d never be pulling Johnny off this in a hundred years. You’d have marched that dull boy out in front of the whole country and called it a win.’
Mark waved a tired hand at them. "Alright, alright, out. Both of you. Go on, get out of my office. I’ve got a call to make to Circle Agency, and I’d rather not have an audience for it."
Hill and Jenny traded a look, swallowed a laugh, and cleared out quick. They’d worked with Mark long enough, years of it, that the man never held the informality against them.
Alone now, Mark cleared his throat. His hand went to the phone on the desk. He punched in the number slowly and brought the receiver up to his ear.
It rang a while before the line finally picked up.
"Hey. Robert." Mark kept his voice level. "How you doing? Listen, I called because there’s, uh... there’s something I’ve got to run by you."
The hesitation hung on him a second longer. Then he pushed past it and said the rest.
* * *
Over at Circle Agency, on the other end of that call, Robert Wright listened to every word, and his eyes went wider with each one.
"What?!" He sat forward. "You’re telling me you’re pulling my actor off the male lead? Just like that? Why?"
Down the line, Mark’s voice came back apologetic. "I’m sorry, Robert. We came across another actor, out of nowhere, and he’s just... he’s right for the lead. I really am sorry about this."
The veins stood up on Robert’s neck. He shoved his chair back and got to his feet. "Came across another actor? Out of nowhere?" His voice climbed. "Are you kidding me, Kelly?"
"Why in God’s name are you out there scouting some other guy for the male lead when that role is already locked? Secured. By my client!"
"I’m sorry, I am, it’s just, this isn’t all on me, alright? I can’t make this call by myself. The executives, they’re the ones who—"
Robert’s teeth ground together. "Don’t feed me that bullshit, Kelly. Don’t you dare. Everybody in this town knows you’re the one holding the strings on that project. So don’t sit there and play small with me."
"Okay. Okay, Robert, please. Let’s just... let’s put this behind us, yeah? Tell you what. The next project that comes across my desk, I’ll slot Johnny in, first in line—"
"Save your crap, Mark." Robert’s voice went flat and cold. "You couldn’t even keep the one promise you already made me."
A silence sat on the line. Then Robert spoke again, quieter, sharper. "So tell me. Who is he? This actor who walked in and took my client’s role. Is he somebody? An A-lister, some name on Jane Kingsley’s level?"
Mark hesitated, like he didn’t want to give it up. "His name’s... Ronan, I think. And no. He’s no A-lister. Nowhere close."
Robert went still. "...R-Ronan?"
"Yeah, Ronan." A pause on the line. "Why? Something wrong?"
Robert caught himself. He pushed a short, dismissive sound out through his nose. "No. No, nothing’s wrong." He steadied his voice. "Just do one thing for me, Mark. One thing. The next project you’ve got, you pull your casting from my client list. You hear me? You owe me that much."
"You got it," Mark said, quick and relieved.
And the line went dead.
Robert lowered himself back into his chair and sat there a moment, one eye twitching.
"Ronan," he muttered to the empty office. "Ronan, huh." He turned the name over. "Is there some actor going around named Ronan these days? Can’t be the one we just cut loose. That Ronan. Ronan Mercer, the Forever Extra." He nearly laughed at the idea of it. "No. No chance in hell it’s him. Has to be some other kid."
But he couldn’t shake it, all the same, the question of who exactly had come out of nowhere and lifted the role clean out of Johnny Miller’s hands.
***
Across the city, in one of the pricier bars in Los Angeles, a corner booth was loud with celebration. At the middle of it sat Johnny Miller, tall, black-eyed, his hair dyed a bright electric blue, a sweating beer in one hand. The friends packed in around him were actors too, glasses already raised.
Erik lifted his over the table. "Alright, everybody, glasses up. This one’s for our boy Johnny Miller. Male lead on an NBS series, ladies and gentlemen. And he’s gonna be working with Jane Kingsley herself." Beside him, his girlfriend Anna was the first to bring her glass in.
Johnny wore the smug look of a man who felt he’d earned every bit of it and clinked against the rest. "Thanks, everybody. Erik, Anna, especially you two."
"You lucky son of a bitch." Erik grinned. "I’ve been dreaming about a shot at Jane Kingsley for years." He turned to Anna. "You’re not jealous, are you?"
Anna laughed and hooked herself against his arm. "Please. If anything I’m jealous as a woman. I’d kill to work with her. She’s been A-list ever since Futility."
Around the booth heads bobbed in agreement, and Johnny felt the itch to show off.
"Here’s something you don’t know." He leaned in and dropped his voice like it was a secret worth money. "I already got a peek at one of the script scenes. My guy Elijah? I’ve got a big kiss with Jane. A real one. And later on, there’s a bed scene too."
The whole booth lit up.
"You’re kidding." Nathan nearly came out of his seat. "For real, dude?"
"That’s so fucking lucky." Erik shook his head, half in disbelief.
Johnny drank it all in, the stunned faces, the flash of envy in the guys’ eyes, and it only wound him up further. "Oh, it’s real. And believe me, I’m gonna make the most of it." He smirked. "Figure I’ll flub a take here and there. On purpose. So we’ve gotta run it back, and I get to kiss those pretty pink lips of hers again and again." He laughed at his own joke.
Erik and Nathan cracked up, Anna and the rest of the booth right behind them.
"You’re such a pig, Miller." Anna was grinning as she said it. "But I kind of love it."
The laughter rolled around the table again.
And right in the middle of it, Johnny’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and glanced at the screen. His agent.
"Hang on, guys, gimme a sec." He slid out of the booth and stepped away, out of the noise.
He put the phone to his ear, still riding the high. "Yo, Robert. What’s good?"
Whatever Robert said on the other end landed like a dropped glass.
Johnny’s face went slack, then hard. "Are you — are you fucking with me right now? Replaced? What do you mean I’m getting replaced?"
Down the line, Robert’s voice stayed level, almost tired. "Calm down. Just... calm down. There’s nothing to be done about it, Johnny."
"Nothing to be done? What the hell is that supposed to mean, nothing to be done? Then do something, Robert! That’s your job!"
But there was nothing to do, and no amount of Johnny climbing the walls was going to move it an inch. All Robert had to offer was a promise, that the next time a major NBS project came down the pipe, Johnny’s name would be first on the list.
It didn’t touch him. "But I want this one! I want to be on set with Jane Kingsley! Why is this happening to me?"
"Some actor named Ronan took the part." Robert didn’t dress it up. "That’s the situation. You’re gonna have to make your peace with it."
Johnny stood there in the dark of the hallway, trembling, the phone hot against his ear. He couldn’t make it make sense. He’d already started getting ready for it, had even roped his own girlfriend into rehearsing with him, practicing exactly how he’d kiss Jane Kingsley once the cameras were rolling.
And now some nobody named Ronan had walked in and taken all of it away from him.