"You look tired," said Michael Thorpe, my lawyer, his brows knitting as he studied me across the table. The conference room was quiet except for the noise of the air conditioner. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah," I replied, brushing off his concern with a wave of my hand. "Didn't get much sleep last night. Nothing worth worrying about. Just tell me how the contract signing went so I can be on my way."
Michael chuckled under his breath and clapped a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Relax. It's good news for us."
"It is?" I asked, my voice tinged with doubt.
He tilted his head and gave a half-shrug. "Good news in a way. They've agreed to reduce your upfront salary to a flat $100k from the $250k Frank Price originally promised. It'll all be paid in advance within a week of signing. On top of that, you'll get 2.5% of the gross box office, provided the film crosses $10M worldwide. I pushed for 5%, but they refused to budge. Since you told me to settle even for 1%, I took it. It was either that or nothing after an hour of stalemate. Same 2.5% for TV broadcast rights, but if there was any other source of revenue, they'd give you 10% of that, just as you requested."
The corners of my mouth tugged into a grin before I could stop myself. I didn't remember the exact numbers from Risky Business, but I knew it had been a financial success. In Hollywood, a film wasn't considered a hit unless it earned at least three times its budget. Our modest production, likely to cost five or six million, would need to pull in fifteen million or more to be profitable. That meant my cut alone could be at least $375,000, on top of the $100,000 upfront. Nearly half a million dollars in total, which was almost double the original offer.
And then there was home video, an entirely separate goldmine waiting to be tapped. For now, it was mostly reruns on television a year after theatrical release, but soon VHS, laserdisc, and DVDs would change everything. That's why Columbia agreed to share 10% with me since it was an unproven market.
I reminded myself that nothing was ever guaranteed. In show business, a single bad review or delayed release could sink a career before it began. Still, I was willing to take the gamble.
I picked up the contract Michael had placed neatly in front of me. Without hesitation, I signed my name at the bottom. When I looked up, ready to share how relieved and excited I felt, the expression on his face made me pause.
"You think it's a stupid decision," I said flatly.
Michael lifted his hands in a half-shrug. "The client is always right, or so they say. But yes, I think you should have taken a fixed salary, which I could have negotiated up to half a million, and been happy with it. You're still new in this industry. No one even knows your name yet. If I'm buying a ticket, I'm paying to see Al Pacino, Jack Nicholson, Barbra Streisand, or Clint Eastwood. Not a fresh face like you or Julie. No offence."
Leaning back in my chair, I studied him. His jaw was tight, but I knew the real reason for his frustration. If the film tanked, he wouldn't see a dime in bonuses. Our deal gave him five percent of my earnings, in addition to his fixed hourly rate, but the bonus would be applicable only if he managed to negotiate a figure higher than what had been offered by the studio initially. Even if the movie hit ten million and I walked away with the same quarter-million salary, Michael wouldn't make a cent beyond his hourly rate.
That didn't mean Michael's point was wrong. This was still the era of the superstar. People bought tickets to see their favorite actor, not because the movie was good or part of a franchise. For an unknown, breaking into the industry was a steep climb.
"It's fine," I said, brushing off his concern with a casual wave. "I understand. It'll take a few years to build a name, and I'm willing to put in that time." I changed the subject. "Did you deliver my next script to them as I asked?"
Michael gave me a flat look. "That wasn't a script. At best, it was an outline, a collection of descriptions with no dialogue. And the story itself was bland and forgettable. They won't approve it."
I smiled to myself. That was exactly what I wanted. I already knew the film I wanted as my directorial debut, and I needed Columbia to reject this one so I could make it independently, as per the terms of our contract. I had written it to be as dull as possible. All I had to do now was wait a month before I could finally begin.
(Break)
After wrapping up my talks with Michael and grinding through a long workout at my new gym, I came home hoping for nothing more than a quiet evening. Thanks to my newfound financial freedom, I could now afford a premium membership that cost $200 a month. In my opinion, it was money well spent, especially since it was fully tax-deductible.
I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, thanks to one crazy redhead, and most of the morning had been spent rearranging my things at the temporary apartment. I hadn't wanted to unpack at all, knowing I'd be moving to Boston in a few months, but Julie had insisted.
There was just one thing about the whole arrangement that gnawed at me: what exactly did Julie want from me? Most teenage girls, especially in the eighties, weren't that casual about their sex lives. I knew I had to clear things up at the first chance I got.
Not that I minded the idea of being with Julie, especially since we were both headed to Harvard together. But if there was one lesson my first round of college had taught me, it was that most people cheated in their relationships. Better not to expect monogamy. Sure, the times were different, but my experiences with girls back in high school had taught me enough about the so-called sexual liberation of this era.
The moment I opened the apartment door, I froze. Julie was sitting on the couch opposite a woman I had never seen before. She looked to be in her mid-to-late thirties, her dark hair pulled back into a severe bun. A navy blue blazer and matching skirt gave her a sharply professional look, and the crisp white shirt beneath only added to the impression.
Her most striking feature was her face: sharp, controlled, with a no-nonsense expression that reminded me of Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. She seemed like the sort of woman who would argue with whatever god was assigned to her in the afterlife, and still come out with a better deal than the one I had wrangled from Poseidon.
"...would be perfect for you. I'm telling you, Julie, this role is exactly what you need to save your image. I will be—"
She cut herself off the moment she noticed me standing in the doorway.
"Hi!" I greeted the two with a grin. "Don't stop on my behalf."
"Hello," the woman replied politely before turning to Julie. "I didn't realize you were expecting company?"
Julie rubbed her forehead, clearly torn over what to say. After a moment, she sighed and gave in. "Noah, this is my aunt, Claudia Schaffer. She's a talent agent at William Morris Agency. Auntie, this is Noah Hunter, my co-star in The Blue Lagoon…and my new roommate."
Claudia raised an eyebrow, studying me closely. Her eyes moved from my shoes to my hairline, appraising me as if I were a casting call rather than a person.
Remembering my manners, I stepped forward and offered a handshake. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."
She took my hand with a measured grip, still scanning me like she was cataloguing strengths and weaknesses. If I hadn't been a grown man in a younger body, I might have felt self-conscious.
"I know I'm easy on the eyes," I said lightly, "but maybe you could be a little more discreet."
Her gaze snapped away at once. She cleared her throat and turned back to Julie. "Right. So, would you like to try for the role?"
Julie shifted uncomfortably, clearly not wanting to have this conversation, least of all in front of me. I wondered whether I should slip away to my room, but before I could decide, Claudia dragged me back in.
"Why don't you help me get through to her, Noah?" Claudia asked, sighing. "Maybe an outside perspective will make her see reason."
I blinked and raised my hands. "Hey, don't drag me into this. Julie's more than capable of making her own decisions."
Julie smiled gratefully. "Maybe you should help out, Noah, so Auntie can hear my side of things too." She indicated a spot on the sofa opposite them.
Reluctantly, I sat down, feeling very much like a referee forced into a match he hadn't signed up for.
Claudia wasted no time. "My sister, Julie's mom, told me all about the film you two did, and why she isn't speaking to Julie anymore. If Julie had come to me earlier, I could have talked to her parents and sorted the whole mess out. I could have even gotten her a better deal."
"I didn't even know you were a talent agent!" Julie shot back. "You never came around. I can't even remember the last time I saw you. Heck, Uncle Anthony never mentioned you either."
Claudia flinched at the words, her professional mask slipping for a second. "Your mom and I had a falling out," she admitted softly. "We only started speaking again two months ago, and that was because she was worried about you. I would have come sooner, but you were off filming on that island. And as for your uncle Anthony, remember, he's not my brother but your father's. Honestly, I don't know what he was thinking, getting you that role. Your mom made it clear he's no longer welcome at their place."
I sat there, feeling like an intruder at a family reunion gone wrong.
"Time out," I said quickly before either of them could fire the next volley. "Can we circle back to the part where you needed my perspective?"
Claudia nodded. "Of course. As I was saying, Julie's parents are deeply worried about her. They fear such a mature role could tarnish her image. So they contacted me, asking me to take her on as a client. Usually, I represent established actors and filmmakers, but obviously, I can make an exception for family."
Julie rolled her eyes, her expression a picture of teenage defiance. Claudia ignored her and focused on me instead.
"I've already put together a plan for Julie to recover from her debut and come out on top," Claudia continued. "But for it to work, she needs to appear in a few major films where her talent, not her skin, defines her. I've even shortlisted several auditions happening this month. Unfortunately, she refuses to hear me out."
When Claudia fell silent, I turned to Julie. "And what's your reason for not listening?"
Julie met her aunt's stare with equal intensity. "Because I don't trust my parents. I don't mind auditioning for other roles, but for all I know, you could be colluding with them to kill my career before it even begins by pushing me into terrible films."
Claudia scoffed. "As if The Blue Lagoon is a masterpiece. I read the script myself. I could have recommended it to some of my clients, but I didn't want to be associated with that filth. Honestly, unless the film becomes an unlikely hit, you won't get another role without making serious efforts on your own. A big agency like WMA could change that."
I couldn't deny Claudia's logic. The more I thought about it, the more sense her point of view made. In this industry, public perception was everything. And I knew, looking decades ahead, that in the 21st century, even the smallest controversy, like someone's personal, political, or religious views, could be enough to derail a career.
"I'll act in Noah's movie," Julie said suddenly, her chin lifting in challenge. "He'll hire me for sure."
Both women turned to me at once.
"Noah's movie?" Claudia repeated, her tone sharp with curiosity.
"Noah's a writer and director too," Julie said proudly. "He wrote a script that our director on Blue Lagoon loved. Columbia even bought it."
Claudia gave me another appraising look, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Does your film even have a role for Julie?"
The question landed awkwardly.
"There is," I admitted. "But I don't have the power to cast anyone. I'm just the writer and an actor in it. The director makes those decisions. The female lead is supposed to be a young woman in her early twenties, a call girl. My character falls in love with her after hiring her briefly. So yes, Julie could play the role, but if you're looking for something that will save her image, this isn't it."
For a long moment, silence settled over the room. Neither woman spoke, and the weight of it pressed heavily between us.
Even Julie was surprised when she heard the premise of the movie, since I hadn't shared the summary with her. Douglas had asked me not to. He insisted I keep a tight lid on it until I signed a deal with a studio, so no one would steal the idea. The only exceptions were Randal and my two closest friends, and that was only because I trusted them completely.
"Are you out of your mind?" Claudia shot at Julie. "After The Blue Lagoon, you want to play a prostitute?"
"But—" Julie started.
"I think Claudia is right, Julie," I interrupted quickly before their argument could get out of hand. "While I don't believe in all this bullshit, but you can't deny that there is a big difference between boys and girls when it comes to perception. If I have a lot of sex, I will be called a player, but if you do the same, I think you know what you'll be called. The same happens when you do something in a movie. People think that you are your character in real life as well."
All the heat left Julie's face as my words hit home.
I decided to soften my stance. "You'll have plenty of opportunities for mature roles in the future. Right now, if you're serious about acting as a career, you should focus on building a good image in the audience's minds."
Julie looked away, not willing to meet my eyes. Claudia, meanwhile, allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. She set a folder on the coffee table with deliberate care.
"I'll leave this here," she said to Julie as she rose to her feet. "I can tell you need some time to think things over. Contact me in a few days."
Julie didn't reply, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor. Claudia made her way to the door, then paused and turned back toward me.
"Noah, do you have an agent?"
"No?" I answered uncertainly. "I've got a lawyer who negotiated my Columbia contract for my second film, but no agent."
Claudia gave me a brief, appraising nod. "Are you free this summer? Or do you already have something lined up?"
"I'm free," I said. "My next movie won't start shooting until next year."
At that, she slipped a hand into her purse and pulled out a business card.
"I've got a script for an indie horror movie on my desk, and there's a role you'd be perfect for. It's different from the one I offered Julie because the females have already been cast. They want to begin filming soon, and it'll be wrapped before summer ends. I personally know the director, so I know that they don't even want great actors, just good-looking ones. If you're interested, the part is as good as yours."
The implication was clear: she wanted to represent me. I wasn't opposed to the idea, but confusion still clouded my thoughts. While any experience at this point in my career was good, I had some plans about working on my directorial debut during the summer.
"But didn't you say you only take on experienced artists?" I asked instead.
"Yes," she admitted, "but I see something in you. I have a kind of sixth sense when it comes to recognizing talent, and I think you'll go far. But you'll need to decide quickly, the audition is in two days."
I nodded, slipping the card into my pocket. "I'll give you an answer by tomorrow."
She gave me one last nod before stepping out. The door clicked shut behind her, and almost immediately Julie rose from the couch and walked toward her room.
"Hey, Julie!" I called after her.
She didn't stop, didn't even glance back. Her door shut softly, leaving me standing alone in the living room.
I let out a long sigh and headed to my own bedroom. As much as I wanted to talk to Julie about it, in the end, I didn't. She wasn't my girlfriend, and fatigue still pressed down on me from the sleepless night before. My mind drifted to the ocean. The way the seawater washed away exhaustion and left me restored was an experience I wanted to have as much as possible, maybe even daily. Back in the rhythm of ordinary life, I already missed that feeling. One thing I know for certain: I don't know when it will happen, but whenever I buy my first house, it will be near the beach.
______________________________
AN: Read up to 40 advanced chapters on my website, or check out my other story, Dreams of Stardom.
Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com