“It ain’t gonna fuckin’ happen, okay?”

I glare at Mickey and cross my legs. He’s sitting behind his oversized desk and the thing makes him look like a fucking balding child. I want to get up and rip that stupid geometric tie off his smug neck but I know I still need him, despite being pissed with him.

“Did you talk with Franklin directly?” I ask him.

“Jackson, baby, listen to me: I fucking tried, okay? I called Franklin, I called Harold, hell, I even called fucking Holly’s agent, Dick, and that guy seriously is a fucking dick, you know?”

I groan a little and adjust myself on his cheap couch. “So it’s not happening,” I say.

“It’s not happening,” he says, and he seems genuinely sorry about it. “Look, I want everything for you. You’re a good kid, you work hard, it’s no bullshit with you. But unfortunately here, you have to play the game, and the game wants you to fake date Holly Hart.”

I glance over at the window and I know this isn’t going to get me anywhere. Mickey wanted this from the start, but I do believe that he’s trying to get me out of it. Mickey hasn’t lied to me before, and I don’t think he’d start now.

The door opens and Von steps in. Mickey looks up and curses. “Not right now,” he says.

Von smiles sweetly. “Iced tea for Mr. Hendricks.”

“Thanks,” I grunt as he hands me the drink.

“Did he ask for it?” Mickey shouts.

“No,” Von says.

“But it’s really good,” I say, taking a sip.

“Damnit, Von,” Mickey says, and he’s already starting to get a little red.

Von grins at me. “I think you should do whatever you want, and ignore this old blowhard’s advice.”

“I’m going to fire your ass,” Mickey screams, and Von laughs as he leaves the room.

I grin at Mickey. “That kid loves fucking with you.”

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Yeah, well, if he were smart he’d be kissing my ass instead.”

“I think he’s right though.” I stand up and put the drink down on Mickey’s desk. He instantly shuffles some papers around and tries to find a coaster for it. “I’m going to figure this out on my own.”

“Jackson, hold on, wait.”

I turn and go to leave, and Mickey is too busy trying to get a coaster under the drink to stop me. He cares more about his precious little desk, which doesn’t surprise me at all. That’s this whole fucking town in a nutshell: all flash, no substance.

But I have substance. And I know what I need to do.

Outside, I get into my car and start driving. I call up Mickey’s office and Von answers on the first ring. “Mickey Rains,” he says.

“Von, it’s Jackson.”

“Didn’t I just see you?” he asks me.

“Listen, what’s Franklin’s home address?”

He hesitates a second. “That old studio guy?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Mickey would kill me if I told you.”

“Isn’t that a good reason to do it then?”

He laughs a little. “Yeah, okay. But seriously, Jackson, you should take Mickey’s advice. He knows what he’s doing.”

“I know,” I say. “Address, please.”

“Just a sec.” He taps at his computer for a minute before reading me an address. It’s in a really nice part of town, which isn’t surprising.

“Thanks, I owe you one.” I hang up and plug the address into my GPS before taking off even faster.

My plan is pretty half-baked, but I hate waiting around for Mickey to make something happen. Clearly that’s not working, and I have something good with Tara, or at least I might. This new picture in the tabloids isn’t helping anything, but I think I convinced her that it’s all bullshit.

At least I hope so. Tara doesn’t seem like everyone else out here. I don’t think Hollywood has contaminated her like it has everyone else. She seems more interested in getting her work done and doing a good job than she does in networking and pretending to be everyone’s best friend. There are other people like her out here, of course, but they’re few and far between. The longer I’m here doing movies, the longer I realize that I hate Hollywood.

It has a stink to it. Everything reeks of plastic and cleaning agents. It’s all too smooth and perfect, but I know that’s just the image they want you to see. People out here are all façade and show, but there’s nothing underneath propping it all up.

Which is why I think I can convince this studio guy. He’s probably not used to an actor actually standing up for himself and demanding something. Sure, actors want little stupid perks, but when it comes to the big stuff, they always roll over and do what their master wants.

I pull up out front of Franklin’s place. It’s gated, like every fucking house out here, but fortunately it opens as soon as I pull into the driveway. The house itself is set back from the front. It’s large and white with big white columns, sort of a cross between colonial and Greek styling. It’s honestly fucking ugly and absurd, but people love this shit out here.

I get out of my car and climb up the steps. I ring the bell, which is this big booming sound that I can’t help but roll my eyes at. A minute later, a little girl pulls open the enormous wood door and looks up at me with these big blue eyes.

She’s maybe four years old and is absolutely adorable.

“Hey there, sweetie,” I say. “Is your daddy home?”

She nods her head.

“Can I see him?”

She nods her head again but doesn’t move.

I smile and kneel down in front of her. “What’s your name?”

“Ashley,” she says in her tiny little girl voice.

“Ashley, pretty name. Do you like movies, Ashley?”

“Yes,” she says. “Daddy makes movies.”

“That’s right, he does. I work in your daddy’s movies.”

She smiles at me. “Actor,” she says.

“That’s right, I’m an actor.”

“Actors are all scum,” she says. “Daddy says that!”

I stare, completely fucking shocked, as she turns and runs back into the house. I can’t believe the little girl just said that. I burst out laughing, not able to help myself as I stand back up. He must say that a lot if she’s repeating it.

I push the door open a bit. “Hello?” I call in.

A second later, Franklin comes around the corner, followed by his daughter. “Jackson?” he asks, cocking his head. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m really sorry,” I say. “I just need a second of your time.”

He takes a deep breath and sighs. “Okay. Five minutes.” He kneels down in front of his daughter. “Now, honey, what does daddy always say about actors?”

She smiles sweetly at me. “Best people ever.”

I grin at her and wink and she giggles before Franklin sends her away. That must be what he wants her to say, but clearly little Ashley knows her daddy better than he realizes.

Doesn’t matter to me. I think all studio execs are scum, so we’re even.

I follow Franklin into his obnoxiously gorgeous house, and I have to wonder if the guy makes more money than I do. We head into his study and he sits behind his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat in front of him.

“Okay, you have me,” he says. “Pulled me away from dinner. My wife can cook a mean fucking steak, you know that? Gives a mean blowjob too, but I get the steak more often.”

I fake a laugh but I already hate this guy. “I’m here about Holly,” I say, getting down to it.

He groans. “Save your breath, Jackson. Your agent already tried.”

I clench my jaw slightly. “I want out.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “You wanna finish this movie? You need to stick it out.”

“I was thinking about that.” I say. “We’ve shot a lot of the movie already, or at least the important bits. If I walked now, you’d still have to pay me for what I did so far. Then you’d have to find a replacement, someone that can draw an audience like I can, and you’ll have to pay them to work last minute and fast. Plus all the footage you lost, all the crew you’ve paid, it’ll all get pushed back.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Studio has a lot of money.”

“Sure they do, but we’re talking millions here. How confident are you guys in this film that you can do it without me at this point?”

He stares at me for a second before laughing. “I have to admit, you’re the real deal, Jackson Hendricks.”

I grin at him but there’s nothing behind my smile.

“Listen, here’s the truth. We don’t give a fuck about this movie. It’s just some summer blockbuster bullshit. It’ll make us some money and then we’ll move on.” He opens a drawer in his desk and takes a cigar out of a box. He clips it and lights it as he talks. “We don’t care about you either, Jackson. Sure, you can act and your story is pretty fucking cool, but you’re replaceable. Everyone is fucking replaceable. It’s when you start to think that you’re important that you get fucked up, you understand?”

He puffs on his cigar and leans back in his chair.

“I hear a lot of talk, but you’re not saying much,” I reply. “I want out of this fake relationship.”

“I want my wife to let me fuck her up the ass, but we don’t always get what we want.”

“Okay then. I’m fucking walking.” I stand up, fully prepared to follow through.

I don’t need this job. I don’t need to be an actor. I can find something else to do if I have to. Sure, I get paid well, and being famous is pretty fun, but it’s not important to me. I’m ready to let it all go for Tara.

“Hold on,” he says before I can turn away. “How about this. You can break up with Holly when filming is over.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why not right fucking now? If we’re not doing promos as a couple, what’s the point?”

“It’ll look bad if you break up so fast,” he says. “There’s a difference between a relationship that doesn’t work out, say, and a fucking volatile one. People will think you’re both crazy actors.”

“Who cares?” I ask him.

“Trust me on this. We want the public to see you two as wholesome people that just didn’t work out, not as crazy actors that fucked for a bit before dumping each other in the middle of filming. That’s bad news for the movie.”

I hesitate for a second. “The second we wrap, I’m done. And no more public appearances.”

“Fine,” he agrees. “Studio might leak some fake stories, though.”

“Whatever. But I’m not doing shit for this, and I’m dumping her very publically when it’s all over.”

“Fine.” He grins at me, puffing his cigar. “You really would walk, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely,” I say to him, before turning and leaving his office. I show myself out of his house, get into my car, and head back to my hotel room.

That’s not the solution I wanted, but it’s a good start. At least I can tell Tara that I did something. Mickey is going to be pissed but Mickey is always pissed. I’m still in the movie, he’ll still get his money.

I just hope this is enough to make Tara happy. I hope she can see that Holly means shit to me, that Tara is everything.