A.W.

you're an idealist, and i pity you as i would the village idiot.

[harlowpulitzer]

Attipus! She sees him through that glass in the door, no escaping her, just like when they were little! Those functions were so funny whenever she got a hold of the silverware, tossing her little knives at the loser boys. As if they even hurt! Too bad she didn’t bring her katana with her to do it all over again; he sure could use one to his face. There’s only one person who could ever pull off the look, and it’s not Attipus Lose-ters.

“Finders keepers! Losers weepers!” She walks in, hand forming an L on her forehead for him, all grins. “That’s what happens when you don’t call dibs on a contract! Blah!”

[atticuswinters]

his fists clench where they’re clasped at the bar top, knuckles white with the effort of proximity. the pulitzers were never anything short of a plague on the events they were forced to all go to together. a row of promising children all clad in pressed clothes and polished shoes. look at them all now, some were never going to grow. it would be better to just ignore her and wait for her to pick a different victim, but there’s always one sore subject. 

“you don’t understand how any of this works do you.” his drink is finished in one swallow. “say it again.”

“She wants what she wants. So do I,” she answers, ease and conviction in every word while she takes her perch on the nearest surface: the edge of a desk that’s facing him, one hand curled around the trim, ankles crossed. “And last I checked, the only other bitch you could have wanted went for something else.” That had to be upsetting. What a shame. She wonders where the idea could have come from. “Lydia would make sure she knew what she missed out on by crushing her and her little project.”

[atticuswinters]

the pose is all wrong. it’s edging on promiscuous, attention focused on the body instead of the words. it’s never going to work for the film. she’s got to break herself of this if she’s going to get anywhere. “and what is it that you imagine she wants?” she’s questioned with steel, every answer scrutinized as though it’s not too late to scrap the entire production. “petty drama?”

[asherwelles]

He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until Atticus says the words back. It’s not relief, but it’s the closest thing to it in Asher’s current state of affairs. Another bolt of the energy drink gets knocked back before the can turns hollow. Done deal.

Almost. He’s more confused than anything. Caution is always in the undercurrent, but he truly looks at him with a pair of drawn in brows, a moment of silence while he tries to put together thoughts he’ll never unravel. “She’s good at what she does. Really good.” Nothing short of great or whatever adjective that’ll meet his approval, as if it’s possible. “What’s wrong with her?”

[atticuswinters]

“she’s fine.” a late bloomer if anything, more concerned with conversation than with the work that being on a set required. it wasn’t just pairing different hues of pink and smiling away questions. “her work ethic is lacking.” and by association, so was anyone who recommended her. “this is not going to be a social club.” or worse, insinuation heavy in the atmosphere. “if we’re going to have to deal with a bad hand in casting because sarah kinney, or for god’s sake carolina papen is too fucking busy to bid on the role—” the exhale does little to suppress the anger that’s found its way back into his voice, “we cannot have another weakness on the set.”

[msjadebellamy]

“The lead.” She said what she said, and she’s firm in her stance from the very tips of her sharp heels. She’s faced worse; she’s done worse. It was easy to get a copy of his precious script before their other choices even had a chance. “What else would I want?” she questions. “The girl that kills herself off-camera because she got her feelings hurt?” Jade looks at him pointedly, as if it could ever fit her, as if she’d ever let it happen to her. “Try it.”

[atticuswinters]

jade bellamy will die on camera, that’s certain. but her confidence— smugness, already clawing at something that isn’t rightfully hers yet, only fills his expression with disdain. he knows she’s the only viable option in the game, but that doesn’t mean the role is just handed over. “it’s more than just the lead.” if she wants the part, she has to earn it with more than glib commentary. “it’s the whole film. what makes you so sure you can be lydia?”

[atticuswinters]

asherwelles​:

Okay, here we go! Asher expected nothing less from Atticus. It’s equally as annoying as it is pointed, captures his eyes and pins them to every minute action. Granite would be softer in emotion than him, just as harsh when it comes to the way he’s holding his jaw, how the words hiss out. But he can’t show how the back of his neck feels as if it’s been yanked by the scruff of it. Liquid courage bottled up in an aluminum can and labeled as energy; even the half-empty variety is good enough to tip back and gulp to busy his tongue before he says something he’ll surely regret. Even when it’s down his throat, though, his mouth tingles either from the bubbles or the urge to spit. He looks at Atticus again, a quick flash, and the guesswork is gone.

“She's… the best that’s left,” he mumbles before his lips shift, a bite before releasing. “Katie can fix her to whatever you want. I’ll fix the attitude.” He holds his gaze, longer than expected before it drips to the popped open can for a moment of rest, like staring into a black hole, until he returns to be sucked in again. “She’ll be good. Once we have her on a leash, she’ll be perfect.” She’ll have to be.

katie. things are grim if they’re already reaching for transformations and ious. while the sorority girl turned emergency solution might be able to do something about the platinum blonde but she couldn’t change reputation. “she’ll be perfect.” the word has a bitter aftertaste, searching out the way to make it go done. of course she’ll be perfect if she’s going to be on his set.

he searches for an easy target, swinging fist in the dark, making mark on frustration that cannot be aired out here. because while his own research is revealing asher is right and the bid will have to go to bellamy— that doesn’t mean he had to say so. “what do you want with wright on set?”

[atticuswinters]

ASHER.

They’ve been at this for hours, drilling away at the contracts, the odds, the strategies. Asher’s eyes draw up to the ticking clock in the drawing room. 1:23am. His hand grazes across his hair, combing it off his face. The sharp ring of ice clamoring has his attention dragged back, as tired of a movement as how he feels. At this point, anyone could be the lead if it meant he could just go home and sleep, only to wake back up a few hours later.

“She said no.” He almost delights in telling Atticus this. Half-exhaustion, half-masochism. The word no never meets a Winters like how it never used to meet a Welles. But that no of his is delivered by a man whose guts quickly remind him they’ve abandoned him. His position is lost before it’s found. His lips wet, thoughts drenched in his defense. He tried to lock her in. He did. Now, he has to fix it before he’s told to. “Forget her. She’s not committed enough.” Now the replacement.

“What about Bellamy?” he throws out. “She’ll do anything.”

no. his teeth grind, jaw setting tough against the news that’s being delivered. her funeral. the redirect isn’t smooth, glare flashing from the screen to asher, a moment of silence stretching out into two, tension formed by letting the next idea linger in space. his was offering a starring role, more than that, a film with a singular character. not a single other character in the script mattered. it was lydia. they needed the perfect fit. and his next option is jade bellamy. 

“she happens to get one good connection,” it wasn’t exactly a secret that her only good roles came from santiago’s pity, “and suddenly she’s worth this script— my script?” each word has a jagged edge, the displeasure evident. it doesn’t matter who’s caused it, it’s in the room with the two of them now. 

 “you’ll have to change her appearance. i won’t have a platinum blonde lead. i won’t have any of that behavior.” the attitude, the diva profile, anything that approached dramatics. the disappointment is palpable, “bellamy is the best you’ve got?”

[atticuswinters]

a glass filled with ice clashes together, the sound made louder by choice as the bourbon refuses to settle. there is nothing to be done. the days between bidding and casting are tedious. the chips falling in slow motion, they must remember their favorites. “the lead?”

[kashaaa]