by Max Hudson
“Fine.”
The producer smiled like a cat, having gotten exactly what he wanted.
***
The next step was read throughs and rehearsals. It was the first time Jared and August would be meeting with one another since they received the bad news about having to work together. They both treated the morning like any other, pretending like they weren’t about to break bread with the enemy.
As per his custom, Jared was late. As was his, August spent the first half hour pretending not to care, congenially chatting with the rest of the cast, and nibbling at a nosh. As another half hour slowly ticked away though, he felt his blood pressure begin to rise. The room grew quieter, the boredom palpable, and every tick of the clock sounded like an explosion going off in August’s head. He smiled at a few of the faces that had turned, expectantly toward him, and then slipped his cellphone out of his old-fashioned suit, and made for the hallway outside the meeting room.
As he did so, he practically ran into Jared who was sauntering up the hallway in his custom tight jeans and black t-shirt.
“There you are!” August hissed, glancing up at the man, and his smirking face. There was something unnerving about the man, always had been, but he especially hated the height difference. “Must you be so...”
“Charming?” Jared offered, his mouth barely moving from its smirk.
“Annoying. Come on, everyone else has been here for ages.”
“That’s why I get paid the big bucks,” Jared sassed as he slowly followed behind the panicking man.
“Yes, well, I’m a director, not a babysitter,” August complained.
“Same thing.”
August stopped and closed his eyes for a moment. “Give me strength,” he whispered, knowing that Jared wasn’t necessarily wrong.
Once inside, everyone grabbed some water and another snack, and they set out at figuring out the script. Luckily for August, he got to sit back and observe, take notes here and there, and basically just let the actors be or ask questions or voice concerns. And there was also the fact that, for all his flaws, Jared was a very, very good actor...At most things.
August leaned back in his chair and watched as Jared and Margaret, the leading lady in this epic adventure mystery, got to their characters’ first intimate scene. He had to admit that the dialogue was a little cheesy, but Jared was butchering it.
“You look...dashing my darling,” Jared schmoozed. He raised an eyebrow, giving Margaret a suggestive look. “Shall we...find somewhere more private?”
August sighed and rolled his eyes. He had to give Margaret credit for not laughing, even though she looked a bit like she wanted to. “Stop, stop,” he said.
“It’s just a read through,” Jared complained.
“Yes, well, best to read it through right.”
There were chuckles around the room, but they stopped when Jared turned his burning stare at them.
August’s eyes widened. He knew he needed to nip the temper tantrum in the bud before it could get started. He cocked his head toward the hall. “Could I...talk to you for a moment...in private?”
“Fine.” Jared pushed himself out of the chair and marched out into the hall, August hot on his heels. “What have I done wrong already?” he demanded, whipping around and almost knocking his director to the ground.
“There is no right or wrong, you know that. For heaven’s sake,” August side.
Inside Margaret and half the cast were sighing too. “Why do they hire the two of them for the same film? This happens every time,” she complained.
“Then what is it that...isn’t to your liking?” Jared asked in a mocking tone.
“Um, it’s about your...flirting technique. It seems, well a bit forced and overdone.”
Jared sputtered. He still has his script in his hand, and he slapped it with the other one. “Have you read these lines? ‘You look dashing, darling?’ I mean, who says stuff like that?”
August nodded. “Well, yes. It is a bit over the top, even for a period piece. Perhaps we could try a bit of modification. But still, your character is coming off as a bit of a...sexual predator.”
Jared’s eyebrows shot up and then he rubbed his jaw. He felt a momentary lapse in self-confidence and said, “I really have no idea what kind of flirting a woman might like.”
August nodded again. “I understand completely. Perhaps a bit of character study might be in order, see how the straight actors do it. Or even try drawing on your own experiences.”
“What? Just act like she’s one of the guys?” Jared laughed heartily and then headed back into the meeting room, ending their small moment of not being at each other’s throats.
After a few more hours and a few more arguments, August and the cast finally piled out of the room and went home. It had been a grueling day, everyone having to cow tow to Jared’s whims, and occasionally, to August’s. They were more apt to listen to their director’s ideas, but there was no use not listening to the lead actor’s as well, for he’d simply refuse to cooperate until they gave in.
As August sank into the back of his creamy limo, he rubbed his aching brow and shook his head. He knew he’d have to figure out how to get a handle on Jared or the project would never work. It was a huge, very expensive project, and if something happened to shut it down, he knew that neither of them would be finding more work in Hollywood any time soon.
By the next morning, August was feeling much more chipper, telling himself that it was actually a victory that they made it all the way through the table read. Usually, when starting a new project, they’d get about halfway through, someone or something would annoy Jared, and he’d go storming out, never to be seen again...well, until the next read through. In fact, August was feeling so optimistic as he poured Hollandaise over his Eggs Benedict, that he decided to call up Jameson and tell him how well it went. That, however, did not go so well.
“You want us to skip rehearsals?” he blurted into the phone.
“This isn’t a play,” Jameson pointed out. “And if things are going that well...”
“Yes, but a rehearsal or two...”
“You can rehearse before takes,” Jameson barked. “Get everyone on set by lunch.”
“Today?!” It was too late, though, Jameson had already hung up. For a moment, August simply stared at his phone, his mind a whirlwind of the things he’d like to have said to the man, but never would have had the courage to, then he flew into action. He knew Jared would be the hardest to round up, so he called him first.
“What do you mean ‘today’?” Jared exclaimed, though a bit drowsily, from the other end of the line. “We haven’t even rehearsed.”
“Come on, you hate rehearsals and you know it.” When all he got was a harrumph in reply, he added, “Jameson wants everyone there for lunch.”
“Well, that’s a blessing at least,” Jared mumbled, glancing at the clock and seeing that it was only 8am.
“Yes, well, get sober...”
“Sober?”
“Please,” August sassed. “Start going over the script again, and...shit, we’ll figure out which scenes we’re going to do when we get there, I suppose.”
“Great,” Jared croaked and hung up.
To August’s surprise, the superstar was the first to show up on the set, too. Of course, he could have had a driver pick him up at the assigned time, but August also knew there was no way Jared would give up the chance to show off whatever his latest toy was. And he had to admit, he was impressed as he saw the man roar into the studio lot.
August’s eyebrows slowly crept up toward his white, curly mop. His blue eyes flashed with something not exactly envy, but more simple admiration. There’s no way he would ever drive such a thing, he didn’t even like driving, but he could definitely see the appeal. He put a mask of indifference on his features, though, as his star stepped out of the car and swaggered over.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Jared asked, seeing right past August’s attempts.
“I suppose,” the man mumbled, “if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh.” Jared smirked a bit more and then looked around. “So, what studio are we in?”
“Um, the new one...over there,” he added, pointing to a large building, slightly off by itself.
“Oh, never been in there yet.”
“Neither have I,” August admitted, straightening his tan suit jacket. “I hear it’s nice.”
“Well, let’s find out, shall we? Let the attendants chauffer the others. No use waiting for them.”
August snorted as Jared swaggered past him, knowing that the diva himself was usually the last person to show up, and would have had a fit if he’d been left to his own devices. Nevertheless, he followed behind the man, eager to see what the set builders had wrought. Normally, the director would have seen it all before the start of production, but once again, Jameson’s rushed schedule had prevented any of that.
“What if you don’t like it?” Jared teased as they walked, in no particular hurry, to the set.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, don’t you directors usually make all these decisions, or at least, oversee them? Are you going to have them tear it all down and start again if you don’t like it? Risk Jameson’s wrath and all that?” Jared teased.
“I very much doubt it will come to that,” August announced in a voice with more confidence than he was feeling. “I did have a bit of involvement.”
“A bit?” Jared repeated and laughed.
The building seemed quiet and abandoned as they stepped up to the front door. The two of them glanced at each other and then August reached up to knock. Before he could though, Jared reached over and opened it, sauntering through, and leaving a worried and exasperated August to watch him go. He followed a moment later, though, after hearing an unrepeatable exclamation come from the actor’s lips.
As he stepped into the cavernous set, lights began to go on around him. He glanced over and saw Jared flipping switches, the man’s mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. August turned back and realized what had been so awe inspiring. From the outside, one could tell that the building was large enough to hold a small village, but inside, it had been transformed into a myriad of different locations. Entire other buildings had been built inside it, inside and out.
“There’s a street scene down here!” Jared shouted, pointing and then waving for August to join him.
August sputtered and then walked as fast as his short legs would carry him. By the time he’d caught up with Jared, the man was already at the construction he’d exclaimed about. August stopped in his tracks, looking over a three-story building within a building with smaller building facades next to it. There was even a road, a sidewalk, a few trees, and a car someone had driven in for good measure.
“Good lord,” he whispered.
“I thought we were doing location shoots too?” Jared pointed out sounding just as annoyed as impressed.
“Yes, so I’m told,” August answered, walking around gingerly, like he might break something. “I mean this is impressive, but it can’t replace deserts and jungles.”
“Okay, I could live without the jungles,” Jared admitted in a mumble.
The two of them continued to roam, finding pub scenes, bedroom scenes, and entire office building scenes. It had either been worked on far before the two of them had been hired or Jameson had had a crew of hundreds building day and night. Knowing Jameson, it could easily have been either option.
“Well, I don’t think I’ll be complaining about this,” August remarked as they finished looking the set over.
“No, I’d imagine not,” Jared agreed.
Before long, the rest of the cast and crew found the right studio as well, and the two of them waited while everyone else oohed and awed just as they had. Eventually, they managed to get around to lunch and meeting with their producer, or at least, listening to him talk. Once that was finished, the man left them to their own devices, much to August’s relief.
He decided it would be best to work on the scenes between the leading man and lady, especially considering how things had gone during the read through. He knew that Jared could sense his doubts, and steeled himself for a long afternoon of fighting, repetitiveness, and temper tantrums. He wasn’t proven wrong, there ended up being quite a bit of temper, but to his delight, Jared had actually been rehearsing and working on his character. It wasn’t exactly award material, in fact, they probably wouldn’t even use any of it, but it was coming along way better than the read through had.
Chapter Four
August went home that night feeling exhausted but optimistic. All of his cast had come a long way in the short period of time they’d had. The crew were receptive and working well together. Everything looked...hunky dory as he’d probably say. After the limousine had dropped him at the front door of his glass mansion, and pulled safely into its garage, August took a deep breath of the Hollywood Hills night air. It wasn’t exactly the freshest in the world, but it was good to be out of the city at least. There were too many people, too much noise, down there. He turned and glanced back at the lights of Los Angeles, twinkling in the dark. Life was good.
Which wasn’t to say that August Jimson was the kind of person to leave this kind of thing to fate. Years ago, he’d run into a very interesting woman. Literally, run into her in the back alley of some tiny recording studio he was using to try and do voice over work. He’d started out in Hollywood as a failed actor. He’d never had the temperament or the confidence to be in front of the camera. It was only years later he’d find out that it took even more confidence to direct. By then, he’d grown a thicker skin, and it was a different kind of confidence, one he’d fallen easily into. However, the woman he’d run into had turned out to be an occultist. At first, he’d merely found her way of life intriguing, a novelty to pass the time. She’s taught him many different kinds of what she referred to as “gifts” and “crafts.”
For many years after that, August still thought of these things as only a bit of fun, something he studied because it was interesting, and it made him unique and a little mysterious. It wasn’t until he decided to try practicing what he’d learned that his opinion changed, and his life, or at least, that’s what he’d decided to believe.
So, as the night grew into the wee hours of the morning, August went inside his big house on the hill, and down to a little room, hidden away behind a bookshelf. He knew it wasn’t very original, but it served its purpose. There were no windows in this room, and no electricity. He’d realized after the builders left that it was a bit of an oversight as he had to leave the door open until he could light his candles in order to be able to see. Once that was done, though, the room became a magical hideaway. A circle filled with symbols dominated the floor in the middle of the room. Stacks of books, some old, some new, laid about here and there, as did magical instruments, different colored candles, and bottles of strange liquids and powders.
As August opened a book, looking for an appropriate spell or other magical ritual, he brought a cup of hot liquid to his lips. There was nothing magical about it, though, simply a good cup of tea, though August would probably argue that there was nothing more magical. He’d been born in London, raised there by American parents, who settled there for business. There had ended up being very little American about August, though, except for his desire to work in Hollywood. He’d left home at twenty, and though he’d been in LA for almost twenty years now, it had had very little effect on his personality. He went home now and then, but for the most part, was a man out of time and place. He’d often thought that it was this that had drawn him to the strange woman’s “craft” to start with.
***
By some strange twist of fate, Jared Hodgens had run into the same woman, though it was a few years later. His first thought of what she was offering to teach him was that she was a madwoman and her hocus pocus was a load of you know what. However, he’d been young, bored, and rather drunk at the t
ime, so he’d followed her back to her hovel, an apartment that was little more than a hole in the wall, and watched as she’d performed some ritual or another. He’d been enthralled and surprised at how curious he found himself. He’d come back again and again, watching as she explained everything she knew.
Like August, though, he’d never really used what she’d showed him, just learned. Until one day, a few years later, when he was at the end of his rope. He’d tried one of the rituals she’d shown him, and the next day he’d gotten a call back on a big, important part for his career. He’d been using her “magic” ever since.
Jared didn’t bother with secret rooms, fancy spell books, or even much in the way of equipment. When he got home, which almost exactly the same time August did, he simply sauntered into his messy living room, tossed some of the refuse into a garbage bag, and sat down on the floor in front of his coffee table. The glass had been etched with various sigils over the years and worn-down candles lined the edges. He had no problem with anyone knowing just how eccentric he was. The mysteriousness was part of his charm and appeal.
He kept a couple of handwritten books on a shelf under the tabletop. After pouring himself a shot of whiskey, he pulled them out and begin flipping through their pages. The day had gone unexpectedly well, and he wanted to make sure it stayed that way. He lit the candles on the four sides of the table, then he took a sip of the whiskey, used the rest to draw a circle in the middle of the table, and then lit it on fire.
“Whoa!” he exclaimed at the rising flames, and then chuckled.
***
Back in the Hollywood Hills, August was just finishing up his tea. Books were open all around him, but he’d yet to find the perfect ritual. It wasn’t exactly luck he was looking for. He needed something more powerful than that, a charm or spell to bring success. He had a not so subtle sense that his entire career depended on how well this movie was made and received. Jameson had as much as said so.
“Ah-hah!” he finally exclaimed and set his teacup down on an antique table. Then he took the book and stepped over to the circle that had been etched and then painted onto his floor. He glanced over the ingredients he’d need, and then sat the book in the middle of the floor as he rushed over to his drawers and cabinets to gather them up. It was actually a rather simple spell. There were no potions to brew or blood to be drawn, just some candle lighting, reciting of words, and magical ingredients to spread around the circle.
