Hollywood After Dark Ch. 02

I leaned back in my chair and watched as the second kid came on, reciting the exact same lines as the boy before him.

Shuman was right - after sitting through almost two dozen applicants, the level of their skill was quite varied. All of the child actors could have done far better than me when it came to lines, but after getting through all of them we had narrowed it down to a few that looked like the part that we were going for. I was a little disappointed that we hadn't picked a winner for the role outright, but I did feel a bit better in knowing that the five or so names we did have all probably would do better with a second callback.

Furrow stretched in his chair, his lanky arms over his head as he yawned. "I swear if I see another cute kid reciting that same damn line over again, I promise you guys I'm going to throttle him,"

Shuman laughed. "I hear ya. What say we make the day at least a bit more interesting and try to knock out some of the mistress auditions before lunch? They at least will be better eye candy for us," he said.

"Fine by me. Any objections Alex or do you want to take a break?" Furrow asked, turning to me.

"No, go right ahead. I'm not starving anyways," I replied.

Shuman nodded at this and called the secretary again. "Send in the mistress girls," he said to her, hanging up the phone.

I was surprised when the women auditioning for these roles walked in. They were notable faces, women I had seen on television and in movies quite recently, although I had never seen such a beautiful collection of them in the same place. All were quite beautiful and I knew from viewing some of their previous works that they had at least some semblance of talent, but I wondered why we had all of them lined up like cattle over this role - didn't they just schedule appointments for auditions?

I again turned to Shuman and asked him that very question.

"No, not for these women. The studio wants some famous faces for this role, so we put out a private call to the type of woman we are looking for's agents - exotic, maybe Mediterranean or Eastern European - and the ones that are here agreed to come to a semi-open casting for this," he said.

That made sense and also explained why the women looked fairly similar. All had brown or black hair, all were quite voluptuous (these women were dressed for the part, most wearing long negligees) and they did share that foreign look about them.

The first one up was Famke Janssen, whom I immediately recognized from movies like "X-Men" and "Golden Eye". She walked to a spot in front of the casting screen and I was startled to see a young looking guy emerge from behind the screen, script in hand, standing in front of him.

"Whose that?" I asked Furrow and Shuman.

"A PA. He's just here to give Famke someone to talk to when she is reading the lines," Furrow replied.

"Oh," I said as the two in front of me began reading.

The talent level was now much much higher since we had known actresses reading for the role. Famke seemed to nail every single one of her lines in the same way that I had always envisioned them on screen when I wrote them, and I felt myself becoming incredibly excited watching this sexy woman pour her heart out to the bored production assistant in front of her.

The scene went short and Famke looked at us for approval or comments. Furrow and Shuman said nothing but I gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. Famke smiled at me as I held my hand out and then walked off the set to the exit off to the side.

Furrow suddenly shoved my hand hard onto the table.

"Jesus Alex, don't do that. This is supposed to be objective, you can't just give your seal of approval to any woman that gets you hard. Try to act stoic like Brandon and I, don't let on what you think about the reading," he said angrily. I yanked my hand away from him, nursing it slightly.

"Sorry, my bad," I said, a little hurt at the way he snapped at me. I brushed it off quickly though as the next girl - Penelope Cruz - walked on stage.

Penelope read her lines just like Famke had, her cute little accent giving them a unique twist that I hadn't imagined. It was tough to say which one had been better - I could see now why this job was so damn hard - but even in the hands of these skilled women, something seemed to be wrong with the scene. It just wasn't clicking.

I thought about this for a moment and then it suddenly hit me. I leaned forward on the table to talk to the other two men quietly.

"Guys, I don't think the PA is doing a very good job. He isn't reading the lines with any sort of emotion or anything," I said. For the first time all morning, they both seemed to agree with me.

"You know, I think you're right Alex," Shuman said. "That's probably why I'm just not feeling this scene. I thought it was the dialog but now that you mention it, yeah, I think Jimmy isn't doing a very good job,"

Furrow cupped his hands and yelled. "Jimmy, come to the casting table,"

Jimmy - a blond haired surfer looking dude, who probably spent more time surfing and laying on the beach getting high than anything else - sauntered over to us. I could tell he was fairly muscular beneath the white t-shirt and shorts that he wore, but that seemed to be the only muscle he possessed: upstairs, his vacant looking eyes gave an impression of no one being home.

"Sup?" he said, standing in front of us.

"Jimmy, you're doing a piss poor job with the lines. Why don't you go take a break and let Alex here do the reading for you, hmm?" Furrow said sternly. A look of apathy washed over Jimmy's face, the chance to be close to a line full of beautiful women obviously not that appealing to him.

"Whatever," he said, tossing the script on the table and walking off. I took it from where it landed and pulled it over to me, scanning the lines that he had been reading.

"You up to this Alex?" Furrow asked, his voice now more normal.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, I did write the damn thing after all," I said to them.

"Good. Ok, well just in case it wasn't Jimmy, let's try another scene. Page 72, where the husband confronts the mistress about their future with the riots taking place outside," Shuman said, moving through the pile of pages to the part.

"Sounds good. Where do I stand?" I asked, glancing over at the blue screen.

"Oh, yeah, right. You've never done one of these before. Umm..well, look for a small X on the floor and position yourself towards the female lead based on the script," Furrow said.

"Gotcha," I said, walking over to the blue screen. Even though it was just a few feet away from the table, where Jack and Brandon sat looked vaguely ominous, the light of the room barely falling on them, which create all sorts of weird shadows around their face and features.

"NEXT!" I heard Furrow yell, spinning now on my heels to see who the first actress with me would be. My heart skipped a beat I think as I saw her slink over to me, a medium height woman with an absolutely stunning face - brown eyes that seemed to reach down into her soul; high cheekbones that gave her face a softened, angular look; lips as maroon as the finest glass of red wine. Her skin became slightly darker to me as she approached, moving with the soft gracefulness of a cat, her ample breasts straining against the low cut dress she wore, the material clinging to her hips. She looked so incredibly familiar and yet...I couldn't place a name.

"What's your name sweetheart?" Furrow called to her as the woman finished walking over to me. I could smell her perfume on her, her long, curly brown hair hanging over her shoulders delicately.

"Monica Bellucci," she replied politely, a heavy accent in her voice. Her name clicked right away - she was a very famous Italian actress, known for taking gutsy roles.

"Alright Monica, well listen. This is Alex, he wrote the script. This is also the first time he's ever done lines with an actress. So show him the ropes, eh?" Furrow said.

I felt myself blush slightly at being pointed out to be an amateur in front of a woman like Monica.

"No problem," Monica replied softly, her eyes locking onto mine. "If he wrote it, I'm sure he will be a natural,"

"Ok Alex, go ahead whenever you are ready," Furrow called to me. I swallowed hard, a bit nervous at being put on the spot like this.

Clearing my throat, I held the script out a few feet from me, hoping my shaking hands of nervousness didn't look too obvious.

'Oh Darling, do not worry. Once this revolution is over, and the new boss becomes the old boss once again, our love will be able to continue forever,' I said, reading the line with a dead weighted voice, unfortunately conveying no emotion at all in what I knew was a highly emotional scene. Luckily though, Monica picked up the slack.

She moved suddenly towards me, pressing her supple body against mine, the heat radiating from her beneath the thin material of her dress. I instinctively wrapped my arm around her waist.

'That is not what I'm afraid of my love! I fear that we shall not make it through this awful rioting alive! For we are the bourgeoisie,' Monica said, her voice trembling as she spoke, the accent giving her words a hint of desperation and tension. This seemed to help my own reading as I felt myself imagining what the characters were doing at this particular moment in the movie that I had already played out a million times in my head.

I looked down at Monica, the soft rise of her cheekbones looking pale and white under the intense lights overhead.

'We shall be fine. And even if they come to tear us apart, you mustn’t fear Alice, because I will be there to protect you' I said, my eyes losing themselves in Monica's deep stare. Tears welled up in her eyes and for a moment I felt disoriented, wondering why she was crying. But I quickly remembered what we were doing and felt myself feeling sympathetic for this beautiful girl in my arms, her breasts pressing against my chest as my character tried to protect her from the evils of the world.

'But you will surely be killed!' Monica gasped.

'Then I shall die knowing the love you gave me,' I replied. Though it wasn't in the script, Monica moved her face closer to my neck and I could feel her warm breath breathing against the side of my face, making my body tingle.

'But what of your wife?' Monica said, her lips now brushing softly over my skin as she kissed my neck lightly. I felt my pulse quicken, trying to stay in character.

'Isabel is a good woman but she is not my love. My heart only feels for you my dear Alice,' I said, turning my head down to look at Monica. She lifted her own from her neck and continued to make her way up my neck to my cheek, standing on the tips of her toes now so that she could reach me. I pulled her body tightly against me, squeezing her side hard as she gazed into my eyes.

'Then say it for me please Sasha. Just once,' Monica said, now kissing my chin, her warm lip brushing gently across my bottom one, my mouth trembling from the intense romanticism of the scene.

'Say what my darling?' I whispered, now lost in a world of my own, where the lines I was saying came from memory and the rest of the world vanished as it was just Monica and me, beneath the fiery hot lights of the studio.

'Say you love me. And that you will always love me,' Monica said, now pulling my face down to hers with her soft hands, our eyes melding into each other from the intense glare. Scene be damned, this was one of the most erotic things of my life!

'I love you. I will always love you, even if time should vanish from this crazy universe of ours,' I whispered to her. Monica needed no more hesitation from that point, lunging up at my mouth with her own as she kissed me hard. I was more than eager to return the kiss, meshing my lips tightly against her own as I felt her tongue slip into my mouth and mine into hers, kissing her richly and deeply, our bodies burdened from one another only by the clothes on our back. I held her tightly as we continued to kiss, as seconds turned into minutes and minutes into what felt like hours.

I could feel Monica's soft breathing coming quickly from her nose above the quiet smacking of our lips and the wrestling of our tongues. I had gained an almost instant erection from the moment Monica was close to me, but I was surprised now to feel her nipples stiffen tightly against her dress, her breasts pressed hard against my strong body, holding her like that. I instinctively moved a hand slowly up to her left breast and squeezed it from the side as I held her there. Monica moaned into my mouth, our kiss finally breaking by an interruption that was rising in volume from beside us.

"Alex! ALEX!" the voice called. I reluctantly released Monica from my grasp and turned to look at the noise, startled for a moment when I saw Jack Furrow standing there, a look of annoyance on his face, as the reality of where we were slowly began to sink back into me. I wiped my mouth away, feeling the tingle of Monica's lips still on my own.

"What?" I said hoarsely, the excitement of just a few minutes of paradise making me horse.

"I said cut about 3 minutes ago. Didn't you hear me?" Furrow said, his hands on his hips, the script tapping on his leg as he glared at me. Monica had stepped away from me now, but she still remained relatively close, a smile on her face as she nibbled on her bottom lip, the lust of our kiss fading slowly from her eyes.

I glanced around the room and saw two reactions: Furrow's look of annoyance, and everyone else's look of sheer shock and amazement at what had just taken place. I felt myself blush a deep crimson as I looked down at the floor, letting my hand slide away from Monica's, the last touching of our bodies that had still remained.

"No, I didn't. I...I got caught up in the scene," I said, a little miffed at being treated like a child, even though this behavior was inappropriate.

"Jesus, you're even worse than Jimmy was. At least he knew not to take things to the level that you did. We could be sued for sexual harassment for Christ's sake!" Furrow said, turning away from us. "Alright everyone, 1:00...lunch break. Our friend Alex here needs to cool down some before we can start anymore auditions,"

I stood there blankly for a second, Monica drifting away from me slowly. I caught her eye again and she winked at me and blew me a kiss as she walked away, behind the other actresses who were filing out the same door in which they came in. I could even hear a few of them giggling.

Walking over to where Furrow and Shuman sat, I saw Brandon tapping his pen on the table. Surprisingly, he wasn't nearly as pissed off as Jack was, and in fact had a shit eating grin on his face as he rotated back and forth in his chair.

"So was it as good for you as it was for me?" he asked with a grin. I imagine that he probably had been thinking that one up throughout the whole deal, but I couldn't help but smile and laugh with him, seeing the silliness of this whole thing - even if it had left a painfully hard erection in my pants.

"Shut up Brandon," I said in an unserious tone. "So if I say that I think that Monica Bellucci is the right girl for the job, does that mean I won't be able to sit in on anymore of these auditions?"

Furrow's mood had cleared. "No, Brandon and I thought that she was probably best too. I'll have the secretary send the other girls home. Congratulations Alex, you just cast your first character," Furrow said, extending his hand.

I shook it. "Thanks. So are we going to do some more after lunch?" I asked.

"Possibly, depends on the kind of turn out we have. These auditions, especially the smaller roles by unknown actors, seem to get less people in the afternoon, mostly because the new actors or actresses have all morning to get cold feet and think of everything that can go wrong and often times, they just leave," Brandon said. "But we will see how this one goes,"

"Alright, well I'll see you two in a minute. Kissing a beautiful woman like that makes me hungry," I said with a grin, walking away and through the door back out into the hall. I passed the secretary and went to my office, my hands still trembling from the excitement of kissing Monica. If she was now officially cast, that means that I might have other opportunities to "coach her" with her lines.

What am I saying! I thought to myself. Petty is probably in your office right now, waiting on you to show her around the place and take her out to lunch. I unlocked the door and peaked my head in, expecting to see her bright face lighting up the room at my appearance. Frowning to myself, I glanced at my watch. Hmm... 1:10. She said she would be here at 1:00. I wonder where she is?

I felt my stomach growl as I debated what to do. Part of me said wait, but my rumbling stomach told me that if I didn't get food in me fairly soon, it was going to be a miserably long day. Well, if Petty does show up, I reasoned to myself, then she'll be here when I get back. I'm sure it won't take me that long to get some lunch.

Shutting the door again, I walked out of the building and glanced around the lot, looking for some place to grab some food. The studio lot was empty and devoid of restaurants, but I spied across the street a diner of some sort, that looked to be at least moderately busy based on the stream of people going in and out. The hot afternoon sun beat down on me and I though about driving over there, but the zooming cars in the street between the lot and the restaurant changed my mind pretty quickly.

Waiting for a break in traffic, I hustled across the street to the diner, my tie flapping wildly over my shoulder from a sudden breeze that kicked up. Opening the door of the diner, I walked in and glanced around. Finding an open table towards the back, I walked over to it and took a seat, only realizing as I settled my large, muscular frame into the cramped fake leather booth who it was that exactly was sitting in front of me. Leaning forward, I tapped her on the shoulder.

"Remember me?" I asked, smiling as she turned around.

PETTY'S STORY:

I could feel sweat dripping off my forehead as I ran through the parking lot of Antamount, my guitar strung heavily over my shoulder. Traffic was already bad enough, but that guard at the gate gave me such a hassle about coming onto the lot, I hope Alex isn't too mad that I'm late.

I found the building that the guard told me to go to (the lot was incredibly large, even once you were on it, and looked absolutely gargantuan from the outside) and stepped inside the cool room, the temperature dropping at least 20 degrees from the heat outside.

Walking to the secretary, I introduced myself.

"Mr. Hilt's office is down the hall. He told me that you would be arriving so the door should be unlocked," she said to me.

"Is he there right now?" I asked.

"No, I believe he has stepped out for lunch. But you might want to check anyways," she said, returning to her work and thus ending the conversation.

I followed her directions and found Alex's office, knocking softly on the door. No response. Trying the door handle, I opened the door wide and found the office to be empty, just like the secretary had said. Turning on the light switch, I walked into the room and set my guitar down on a comfortable looking couch.

The place was pretty spacious and nice, although it was obviously very temporary - nothing about the office seemed to say anything about the person who occupied it, everything from the furniture to the standard coffee pot on a far table seemed to scream conformity and blandness. I walked around and examined the room, running my hand over the couch and an extra chair as I walked slowly through the office space. Alex unfortunately didn't have a window office, but with the door shut, the place had an aura of being like a tomb.