Work Text:
“CUT!”
Doppio could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head and fall down his throat as Director Winsworth stormed over, gripping tightly onto his already creased script. Not again.
“You! You know what you screwed up, don’t you?”
“No…? The script says for me to move to the left when Rosemi says the line, ‘Ready, aim, fire.’ right?”
“Stop lying, you know what you did.”
A bit of awkward silence enveloped the set. No, Doppio didn’t actually. What the fuck was he saying?
Winsworth pinched his nose and groaned, “Duck lower! For goodness sake, you and Ren are getting shot at by bullets, not water!”
“But, Director,” Ren raised a shaky hand towards them, “There’s… No time. We can’t run while ducking that low, we either fall and not make it to the end mark you set fast enough, or we slow down and we still don’t make it to the-”
“And did I ask you?”
Ren shrunk away, a step behind Doppio.
“Make sure you get low. You get it?”
Winsworth turned on his heels, and a smile suddenly emerged on his face, as if his personality turned with his body.
“Miss Rosemi, the script says that you have to say ‘In darkness, I bloom!’ before the squad fires… While I appreciate your amazing acting prowess, your wall of Rainbow Scepters are proof of all of it! It would be amazing if you could follow the directions a bit more closely…”
Rosemi’s nose sticks up and a visible scowl stretches across her face. Doppio wonders if the corners of her mouth were gonna fall so far down and reach the earth’s core while the tip of her nose reaches for the heavens.
“General would not say this! Maybe this line would be better in a later scene, but not this one!”
“Miss Rosemi, it is just one line…”
“And I’m just one actress, right? Session’s over, record everything that doesn’t involve me! I’m heading to my trailer. Petra, get my bags.”
The actress’s assistant shot Winsworth an apologetic look before scurrying away to escort Rosemi.
“Wait, we- There’s no other scenes that don’t involve you! We’ve filmed all of them!”
Yeah, when Rosemi would have her weekly crash outs. No matter how many times Doppio watched the Rainbow Scepter Awards Show, her face was always on screen for half of it, so he really doubted whether all the trophies were on the cabinet. Perhaps there were 30 shoved up her ass. At this point, he should probably stop being mad at things that happen as naturally as the Sun rising and setting, not that his working hours let him see any of it.
“Fuck it. I’ll go find her later. You’re all dismissed, go have lunch at the cafeteria.”
“Sir, Vermillion and Violeta have just finished changing into their costumes and I’ve also done the makeup…” The makeup artist reported through gritted teeth, “Would it be possible to film at least one scene to save all of us the effort?”
“If you’ve had time to do makeup, it wasn’t ‘just finished’, was it? Take it all off, I’m not paying money to fix those guys… What were their names again? Whatever. Their costumes because someone spilled gravy on it.”
“It’s Ver and Uki, sir,” Ren muttered under his breath, “but you wouldn’t remember it by the next second.”
Doppio nodded in agreement as he pushed the door to the recording set open, escaping from the suffocating dark cell for just a moment.
“This is ridiculous!” Doppio slams his script onto the ground, a resounding bang echoing through the empty cafeteria. Nobody has lunch at 10am, and nobody has outbursts at that time as well, but if Rosemi can be a baby, Doppio can too.
“Doppi…”
“This was supposed to be our big break! How is Winsworth getting all these rewards and reviews, only to be a fucking crackpot who doesn’t know his shit! Winsworth my ass, change your name to Loseloss for fucks sake!”
“Well, when the film ends, people will treat it like the next best invention since sliced bread, just like Winsworth’s other movies.”
“They’re gonna clown us everywhere, Ren. This will be a one-hit wonder, and also our only-hit wonder. What the fuck is a comedic The Little Prince rendition where the President of the Sahara Desert comes and goes apeshit with the firing squad on the prince, who is somehow Roman? And some alien whose ship was bodied by a flying casket! The prince didn’t even come out of the casket! What was the use of introducing the casket? The Sahara Desert doesn’t even have a president! I can already see the clips circulating on Twitter…”
“It won’t be that bad! I quite like Doppicus as a character,” Ren’s fuckboy laugh that followed his words just sounded like a mockery.
“As an ironic, badly written laughing stock.”
Ren didn’t say anything back. He was right.
“I just wish Winsworth would just up and die of a stroke. Can’t want to spit on his grave, assuming he has a family willing to bury his wrinkly sad body. Maybe not, that face is something not even a mother could love. And no matter how much cologne he sprays, that musty smell of his could never fade, also…”
Doppio rambled on, screaming all his frustrations of his boss into his depressing tray of cold food, ignoring Ren’s nudging and aggressive eyeing at something that he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to.
“You want Winsworth to do what?”
Never mind. So this was what he was trying to tell him
Doppio shifts in his seat slowly, barely moving his head, just enough to meet eyes with Producer Crowbringer. Well, Producer Bringer, but Crowbringer sounds better on press and on the tongue.
“Well, I was just… I was just saying.”
Just shut up for a few seconds for the paycheck. For a few seconds. C’mon now.
“You’re banned.”
“What?”
“From the set.”
“What do you mean!”
“For talking shit about Winsworth.”
“Wait, Producer Crowbringer please,” Ren shot up from his seat, “He was just playing, he didn’t mean it, please this is the only job we have, we pushed so many offers just to make way for the esteemed Director Winsworth…”
“No. Ren, I know what I said.”
“Doppio, you can stop kidding now, it isn’t funny, your job isn’t worth sticking to the bit-”
“If Winsworth says I’m out, there’s no changing that shrivelled prune’s mind. Fuck that man, fuck your stupid movie. Ban me.”
Producer Crowbringer lips quivered. Was he really crying for that thing? How loyal was he to Winsworth.
Bursts of laughter exploded, “I’m kidding! You should’ve seen your face. Nah, you’re safe. If anything, I agree with everything you’ve said about that man.”
Ren practically crumples back onto the cafeteria bench, and Doppio himself feels his knees go weak from the relief. He wasn’t getting fired. Good.
“I do have… Another thing I want to discuss.”
“What is it? Another of Winsworth’s ideas that go nowhere?”
“No, it’s actually an idea from someone else. From me.”
Ren perked up in interest, “Oh? Are we staging a coup?”
“What? No, though I would love to. I’ve actually been watching you guys perform on the sidelines for a long time and… I think I can treat you better than Winsworth ever will. At least in the emotional sense. You’re what I need for my indie production.”
An indie production? Doppio immediately lost all interest. He slammed a fist onto the table, water from his glass spilling across the table and onto the script on the floor, “Indie film? I took Winsworth’s deal exactly because I wanted to get out of indie stuff! I was made to be a star! I was made to be on the level of Rosemi! I can’t spend another year in films that get three viewers! How will I eat? At least now I’m getting by with the Winsworth paycheck, as little as he pays us for a world-renowned fraud.”
Producer Crowbringer glances at Ren for a response. Ren tilted his head, as if to say “He’s out of line, but damn is he right.”
“Pay, you say? Well, I just came out of an argument with Winsworth who said he is going to pay you by scene you film, which he obviously has full control of. So today you’re going to get zero dollars after everything today. And the day after that. And after that.”
Ren’s face distorts into shock, “Isn’t that against some labour law? Dude, rent is due tomorrow!”
“Please. The court is gonna listen to Winsworth more than us. I promise to pay all of you daily. It might not be as much as that man does- Well, should, but I know I can make a better film than him.”
Ren and Doppio exchange looks.
“Ver and Uki have already agreed. I just need you two for the leads~”
Doppio took a deep breath. He’s back to square one again, but honestly, what choice does he have?
“You better make this work, Crowbringer.”
Producer Crowbringer grinned, “Vanta is fine, from now on.”
“So! The movie’s name is Play Back,” Producer Crowbringer- No, Vanta, sat down on the floor in a way smaller studio than Doppio is now used to, reminding him that his progress into stardom has stepped back again, “And it tells the story of two hosts, D and R from the bar Two O’clock Rainbow. A lot of these scenes are… sultry, but none really contain any actual love, as I want it to explore how D and R view love as a trade? Rather than a true connection. Does this make sense? Ver and Uki will play Veranor and Ukiri, D and R’s biggest customers respectively to build the parasocial relationship needed to tell my story.”
Compared to Winsworth’s empty ramblings, Vanta sounded like he knew what he was doing. Even if his explanation continued on with question-like intonations, Doppio felt much more certain that this movie was going to go somewhere much further than a The Little Prince ripoff.
He observed the set around him. There was much less staff compared to Winsworth’s workplace and Doppio honestly found it a good thing. He and Ren had struggled a lot remembering which staff managed which small thing, and Winsworth would berate them for confusing the manager for Hat #1 with the one for Hat #2. Still the stupidest thing to have separate managers for, but it wasn’t like he could tell him that. The clutter that resided near them on the daily was also gone, replaced with only the bare necessities like a few chairs, the recording equipment, and a small refreshments fridge. The biggest space was reserved for them to act, even if it meant trying to stack a few more things up to slightly unreachable heights.
“Ren, Doppio, how long would it take for you to recite the script? Also, please feel free to tell me if there’s some scenes you’re not comfy doing with Ver and Uki, I… didn’t really think that part through when dragging you guys in.”
Well that was another thing he wasn’t used to. Being asked if he wanted to do something.
“I’ve done a few movies that are much more raunchy than that. If everyone else is okay with this, then I am.”
Vanta leans back with his hands covering his face, his eyes gleaming under the dim light of the studio, “This is all I’ve ever wanted man… I’m so happy you guys agreed to come act for this. I’m so happy.”
“We’ll make you proud, Vanta! Who’s with me!” Ren pumped his fist into the air.
The studio turned quiet. Ren’s arm started to sag, “...No?”
“I am!” “Me too!”
Ver and Uki piped up, raising their hands up. It was only now that Doppio hadn’t really gotten the chance to hear their natural voice. Constantly brushed to the side by the director because of their less important role, it was natural that their opinions were valued even less than his and Ren’s.
Whatever. He swallowed down the awkwardness and raised his hands up.
“Count me in, then!”
Doppio’s hands traced along Ver’s thighs as Ver pulled onto his tie, twirling it around on his finger like a leash.
“Well, Veranor, wasn’t it.”
“You remember my name, D.”
“Of course I do. Someone like you… Surely that pretty face of yours can’t be forgotten by anyone, especially not mine, when you’ve come to see me so many times,” Doppio brushes a strand of hair out of Ver’s face. His voice is buttery, but his eyes lacked any tenderness that would usually be seen in a lovestruck romantic.
Doppio placed a kiss on Ver’s neck, and Ver drew in a quick breath, a moan escaping his lips unconsciously.
“So quick to make a sound, huh? We just started.”
“You know how to treat me well, better than anyone else.”
“I assume we’re going to spend a few more hours together tonight, then.”
“Any amount of money is worth it.”
Doppio pushed Ver’s hand down as the grip on his tie loosened. He bent over towards the table and reached for the champagne glass, the golden swirl reflecting the ambient lights of the bar, “A toast with my one and only prince?”
“You’re such a liar.”
“I could never.”
“CUT! Good take!”
The clapperboard slam cuts through the sexual tension as Ver sat back up and pulled his shirt back into place from where Doppio kissed him, the fake blush on his face unfading even when the scene from just now meant nothing at all.
“Nice one, Doppi! Didn’t know you could kiss that realistically.”
Doppio pulled his tie back up, “That tie pulling though, that wasn’t in the script! I know it’ll add so much to the scene when we see the final.”
“Hey, you two, nice work out there!” Vanta walked towards the two and sat between them on the prop sofa, “A little thing though. I think I want Doppio to have a bit more… Can I say curve? In his movements when he picks up the champagne glass. It is a nitpick, so I wanna hear what you think, especially since I saw it in other takes.”
“Oh that? I did away with it myself. I think it shows a bit more of D’s whole idea of love as a business. You know, he’s professional, but there’s little bits and pieces of him that can’t work if he’s never genuine.”
He was half expecting Vanta to tell him no. He was accustomed to “no”.
“You know what? Yeah, I can retake. My bad Ver, I’ll have to kiss you again for this-”
“Do your own thing. If you think it works, we can move on to Ren and Uki’s scene.”
“It really is fine if I have to…”
“Where’s the guy who wanted Winsworth to croak? Chin up! If it really goes too far away from what I wanna do then I’ll say something!”
“Is it okay if I want to do a retake though?”
Ver? Requesting a retake? Usually he was ushered off the set so quickly before he could even calm down from filming his own scene, other times he barely spoke his mind in meetings even when he was asked once in a blue moon. It really was much more different here, wasn’t it.
“For which part?”
“I feel like I could’ve delivered the line better. The ‘You’re such a liar’ one? A bit more teasing for the sake of the dramatic irony, you know?”
“Sure. Get into positions, I’ll check the recording and have your clothes moved back to how it was just now. If it doesn’t work you might have to do it all again though, you sure you’re okay with it?”
“Part of the job, director. We’re pros!”
Vanta chuckled at Doppio’s response, “I knew I could count on you guys.”
Uki let out an uncharacteristic shout in the makeup room next to Doppio.
“Uki! What is it, did you get hurt?” Doppio tosses his magazine to the side and rushes to his side. Uki’s eyes are wide and his grasp on his phone is so tight his knuckles begin to turn pale.
“Doppi… Do you see this.”
It’s a quote retweet, attached to a familiar video. Doppio snatched the phone from Uki and started reading, “The tension in this? But also the way I feel nothing? Guys…?”
The tweet had garnered a hundred thousand likes, and the numbers continued spinning and increasing before Doppio’s eyes.
The familiar video was the trailer to Play Back.
With quivering fingers, Doppio scrolled down to the comments, only to be flooded with absolutely nothing but positivity. D and R were seductive, but there were small hints and movements that made the audience know that they did not love anyone but their craft. Veranor and Ukiri were perfect lovesick customers who deep down knew they were paying for nothing but a mirage, but the hole in their heart could not be filled by anyone but the two. The “couples” clicked like puzzle pieces, the commenters said, so perfectly that it just added to how fake the love was, and how little they truly cared for each other deep inside.
“We have to show Vanta.”
Press coverage for Play Back increased by tenfold after that tweet, so much that Doppio was getting jumpscared for it at every corner of social media. Vanta was getting call after call, email after email, asking him all sorts of questions, inviting them to interviews, checking if they were available for a chat to learn more about this amazing film from an unknown producer that suddenly came to light.
The idea that Vanta was unknown made Doppio scoff a little. He’ll have them know he was the producer who worked with Winsworth, though Winsworth never credited his staff, because he was so amazing that he did most of all these things himself.
Vanta always asked the crew whether they were okay with taking interviews, no matter how many he had to run through, even rejecting some companies simply due to an overly packed schedule from the newly found attention.
“Doppi, Doppi, we’re gonna make it big!” Ren had wrapped Doppio into a bear hug as the phones continued to ring non-stop, “We’re all gonna be the stars we’ve always wanted to be!”
It was right there. Their ticket to potential stardom. What’s next? Could they rise to the top of the box office? Could they defeat Winsworth? Could he wave the Rainbow Scepter in Rosemi’s face? Could he achieve his dreams?
The lights on the ceiling flickered a little, but never ceased its glow, as if lighting up his future with an uncertain but hopeful light.
He was so ready to face it head on, no matter what would happen along the way.
He was not ready.
Press coverage was still high, but not in the way he expected it to be.
“EXPOSED! Crowbringer is a fraud? Rosemi confirms Play Back is a stolen script from Winsworth”
“Is Play Back really a Crowbringer breakthrough?”
“But it is! Vanta wrote the script, this is his fucking script!” Doppio screamed at the headlines, as if his rebuttal would reach the dense reporters who did nothing but report gossip that sold. How naive of him to expect them to have an ounce of decency in their drama-milking bones.
Also Rosemi. What the fuck was she doing? Why was she suddenly on Winsworth’s side? What did she do?
That wasn’t right. As much as Rosemi was terrible to work with, she wasn’t that bad. She wouldn’t start lying? If anything, only a person who was extremely passionate about acting would have so many opinions, honestly mostly good ones, about how a scene should be carried out. If she cared any less, she would’ve just followed the script and swept all the Rainbow Scepters like she already did and wasted less of her breath! She wouldn’t stomp out another person’s art like this, especially not for someone she has acted out against for so many times.
He gazed at Vanta, who in the midst of the commotion of the actors was sitting in the corner, his glasses put onto the side, his signature smile when he worked on this project gone, replaced with a grim, gloomy expression that was on the edge of tears.
“Ren, meet me at the back. We need to talk.”
The door creaked into a close behind Ren.
“Be honest. All biases aside, does this interview feel like something Rosemi would do?”
Doppio clicked play onto the video, and the sound of enthusiastic camera clicks and flashing lights hungering for the juiciest, fakest news accompanied the reporters’ rapid fire questions at Rosemi.
“What was the original Play Back supposed to be for?”
Rosemi's voice was as steady as usual, yet her demeanour felt like it shrunk ever so slightly, “It was supposed to be after our current project. I was supposed to star as the female lead, the customer of the ‘D’ that Dropscythe is now playing.”
“Why does Crowbringer have it now?”
“Crowbringer was some small worker that I didn’t even know of! One day he just placed down five resignation letters for himself the the Play Back crew, which included two of the lead actors for the current project. Winsworth was going to sue but he decided to let them be because he didn’t want to cause a scene, only for them to steal a whole script and claim it as their own! We knew way beforehand too, before it all blew up, but it was just an indie film, so he decided that if they weren’t going to… be anywhere close to successful he would just make another. Now they’re profiting off his work, he realized he had to say something!”
The reporters entered a frenzied roar of excitement, and the questions began rising into a blur. The clip ends there, and secretly Doppio was glad he no longer had to choke on their lies.
“She is speaking weird. She’s putting out so many details in one go that it feels like she wants to stop them from asking more. To stop them from pushing her into lying even more.”
“Also you see her back? Slightly hunched, and her legs are placed so close together. She’s trying to be prim, proper, and upright, but we can tell she’s faltering. There’s only so much you can do without being genuine.”
“So what’s your plan? We can’t say all that, we don’t have the public backing,” Ren sighed, “We’re just gonna go down as the face of a ‘plagiarised’ film.” He put air quotes around “plagiarised”, like the world would stop their running mouths and leave them alone.
“I want to speak to Rosemi directly. Not through her manager, directly.”
After five bomb threats, thirteen death threats, a week off because Vanta was phoned and told that one of the five bomb threats were real and someone had indeed put explosives near the studio, and a lot of comments under every single post calling them a fake, Doppio was beginning to think that Rosemi was genuinely on Winsworth’s side. After all, why wouldn’t she? She almost deserved it. She was such a bigshot, fitting of being worshipped by Winsworth, and losers like himself didn’t deserve another thought, even if they just wanted to make a movie.
On the good side, none of the staff or the cast members were willing to back down at such a moment, Doppio included.
He checked his messages again. Still no response from Rosemi. He looked out of the window of the bus that Vanta booked out for their safety, knowing that someone would probably snipe one of them dead if they dared take public transport when they were in hot water like this.
Well, if nobody believed them after this press conference, then they’re completely fucked.
The press conference hall was huge, apparently paid for by some anonymous monster for the sake of letting more people watch their downfall. If it was revealed to be Winsworth, he honestly would not be surprised.
It was only to be expected that the reporters did not find the need to retain any of their professional integrity when shoving their cameras into the Play Back crew’s faces. Ren had to hold Doppio back when some reporter, with all his glorious audacity, pushed his microphone straight up into Vanta’s face, a painful clunk echoing as it hit his mouth, and continued to ask his question without saying sorry as Vanta moved on, massaging his lips. When he took his hand away, Doppio could see a little blood.
If he beat him up right now, would the public add murderer to his list, considering Vanta’s status as a subpar human has gone from alleged unproven plagiarizer to head of a black company who paid oh so much favouritism to only them four and paid their other staff only 2% of the fees he got from receiving interviews?
“Good evening, everyone. I am Vantacrow Bringer, or Crowbringer, as more people know me,” Despite everything, Vanta’s voice remained collected, “I am here to address the allegations made about me and the movie Play Back, which is said to be an idea I stole from Winsworth when I resigned from my producer position along with the four actors I have by my side today.” He cleared his throat, taking a sip of water, then placing down the bottle with hands that didn’t even shake, even though Doppio had to push his legs down just so the table wouldn’t move along with it, and the press wouldn’t turn it into an admission of guilt, “We have faced various threats on our personal safety and have decided to make a statement clarifying our innocence.”
He pressed a few buttons on the projector controller, “Here are my initial manuscripts for Play Back. As you can see, the document was first created six years ago, and this was my second draft. The first draft was on paper, but it was from eight years ago. I only began working for Winsworth five years ago, and as a producer I was never allowed into his actual office, only an area outside of it. I have multiple staff members who have now since quit their jobs under Winsworth for various reasons unrelated to the Play Back production on standby, and they can be called at any time to prove this.”
“How do we know you have not manipulated the years on the records?” A reporter shouted from the crowd.
“I have a separate image I took from my phone. As you can see, this was written on my old laptop, the CX-15, when it was still in good condition. The model is no longer sold, nor are the parts needed to fix it. The date and time in the corner should prove some things too.”
“Why would you take an image of your computer with your phone?”
“I was telling my friends about working on this script. I was about to get to more human witnesses who have watched me start conceptualizing this film back in university.”
“Those human witnesses could be lying! They’re your friends right? The only reason you turned out to be such a liar is because everyone around you must be a liar too!”
“That’s… That’s not true, you can’t say that!”
“Are you scared? Are you scared now?” The reporter continued to taunt Vanta, ignoring all ethics, “All this proof is made up, isn’t it? Your conduct was never reputable to begin with, it’s your fault no one believes a word you say now, Crowbringer!”
Suddenly, the heavy wooden doors swung open, and a man in an over-the-top coat walked in with long strides, followed by a petite actress in a black, form-fitting dress. Her hat and sunglasses stayed on indoors, and she gracefully waved at the cameras as she followed behind the man, treating them like her personal fans who were there for her specifically.
“May I provide evidence that might perhaps help all of you, my dearest reporters.”
“Winsworth?” Vanta choked out, flabbergasted, “What are you doing here?”
“Defending myself, of course. Seems like someone wants to accuse me of so many things just because I wanted to keep my next show a secret! I even gave you all a grace period to give up and stop with your little games, but clearly you didn’t get the memo.”
“What do you want,” Vanta growled, his fingers curling around the mic as he squinted at Winsworth’s nauseating figure.
“Oh, nothing. Just want to talk about how you would sneak into the office and I would often see books or files of mine opened. Or how Zotto here constantly destroyed the set to delay the performance. Maybe also about Dropscythe who would threaten Rosemi and I with violence when the movie didn’t go in the direction they wanted, despite me being the director? I believe I also have Vermillion and Violeta destroying their costumes! Isn’t it unprofessional? Sometimes we don’t make it to your take and you just have to change out of your costume without doing anything. That just sucks, but that’s how it is in show business!”
The reporters on the site began to scribble furiously onto their notepad, with more pens moving at completely unbacked rumours than at Vanta’s carefully prepared slides of all the proof he could find, all the witnesses he could call at random to make sure no sense of bias would occur in his argument.
“It’s a shame, really. Crowbringer, Dropscythe, Zotto, Vermillion, Violeta, amazing at their job at its core, yet off set? Animals. Wild animals who would scream and shout and threaten to kill me at any chance. Wouldn’t you agree, Rosemi?”
A devilish smile crept across Rosemi’s face, and Doppio’s heart sank to his stomach. With her sickly sweet eyes and pleading voice, everyone would rush to defend the poor girl rather than the truth. It was all for nothing.
He watched Rosemi grab a mic from a random hand. She pulled off her sunglasses, her eyes a determined glare. Winsworth rubbed his hands together, knowing he had won.
Rosemi opened her mouth. She turned to the left. She turned to the right. She looked Vanta directly in the eye, ready to unleash her final sentence.
“No. I would not.”
It was over. It was all over. Doppio could quit his dream, he could run away and never come back. Everywhere he went, he would be ridiculed, he would- Wait, what?
“It’s over, Winsworth! You can’t make me lie any longer!”
It was a miracle that Doppio’s jaw didn’t just dislocate right then and there. He could feel Ver’s shaky leg against his chair get even worse from under him, the vibrations passing up to his body. Ren had straight up grabbed onto Uki’s hand from under the table, with Uki holding back, digging his newly painted nails that he usually dared not touch a single thing with a day after the nail appointment. Vanta was just sitting there, dumbstruck at everything that was unfolding, suddenly completely in his favour.
“You sat me down, made me lie that Play Back was yours, made me lie that you worked hard all on yourself and that everyone else in the backstage was useless. You threatened to kick me out of the production if I didn’t help you cover it up, because surely a measly indie studio could do nothing, and it would ruin you if they did better than you! You never listened to what I had to say about the script, about acting, you only chose me for the sake of my awards and not for the sake of my acting style, my prowess. You forced me into a point where I judged myself off the amount of Rainbow Scepters I held, and not my actual skill. All these people have once worked so hard under you, supporting your ideas that go nowhere and concepts that make no sense, only for you to say that you weren’t going to pay them and make them go through all sorts of free labour with one excuse and another. That’s why they quit! That’s why Producer Crowbringer started his own film! That’s why amazing actors like Doppio, Ren, Ver, and Uki all decided to follow him! You had all the strength and power in the world and what did you do? Sit on your cocky horse as they run through your fingertips!”
“Rosemi! This isn’t what you said!”
“This isn’t what we rehearsed, you mean,” Rosemi rolled her eyes, “You made me say the lines over and over again, to insult the existence of indie films and to lie about people I looked up to. Where do you think I started off? I began as an indie film actress too!”
Winsworth’s hand balled into a fist, “You… I made your career. How dare you!”
He grabbed onto Rosemi’s collar, lifting her off the ground, and swung his fist back.
“Wait, help! Help me!”
When Rosemi opened her eyes again, she saw a bloodied Winsworth on the floor, with Doppio on top of him, his hand smeared with red.
“Cheers!” Vanta called out, and in response, the team raised their glasses for a toast in one of the fanciest restaurants of the city.
Play Back was a smash hit at the box office. The controversy, once cleared up, actually brought on much more popularity for the movie, shooting it into an even brighter spotlight than before, described to be the movie that Winsworth felt so threatened by that he had to try to tear it down, as well as the movie that made Rosemi jump ship and join a small (well, not so small anymore) rising production team.
“Winsworth and the world only saw me for the awards I won,” Rosemi had admitted afterwards in the cold, late winter night after the press conference that turned their situation around, though not in the way they thought, “And for a while I believed that unless I joined a big production with some world renowned director, no matter how much I wanted to leave it, I would have fallen off and the public would scrutinize me. It’s kind of sad that you guys’ first impression of me was in this movie. I was at my wits end, and I ended up crumbling and acting like a kid under all the pressure and how much I hated the environment.”
“So I want to join you guys!” She beamed, “If it’s okay, seeing that I’ve harmed you guys…”
Vanta’s “Oh my god, yes, please?” was so ecstatic that Doppio would’ve thought he had won the lottery fifty times over.
As they continued dining, Doppio listened quietly as Vanta began spilling with brand new ideas he came up, talking about an old abandoned script called We Be Union about a pair of twin tailors who run a fantasy boutique that made clothes that could act as companions that he knew Uki and Rosemi would definitely excel in, or a folklore-like tail about a boy and a tiger spirit that Ver had to be the main character because there was no one else. It was hard to believe that he was the same stoic producer from Winsworth’s time. Just how bad was that job? Since when did he brim with such crazy levels of enthusiasm?
In the middle of Vanta’s unending speech, Ren nudged Doppio and silently showed him his vibrating phone and the Caller ID shown on the screen.
“Winsworth”
Doppio nearly lost it right there. What right does he think he has, calling them directly like they were still some no-named actors. Not even through their managers? Shouldn’t he be in jail for attempted assault?
“He can go fuck himself.”
He hung up on him before Winsworth even had a chance to speak. None of them were ever going back to him ever again.