Chapter Text
Vox was not good at talking acting. He could act, of course. Wide eyes and grand expressions. The talking thing…that hadn’t been part of the job description. He was just supposed to look handsome and throw fake punches and rescue girls from fake train tracks. He wasn’t supposed to memorize lines.
Now, thanks to the Jazz Singer, they needed him to say lines. Not only that, they needed him to SING which was something he’d never done before.
The only solace was that his co-Star, Mimzy, was having similar issues. Her thick Brooklyn accent wasn’t going well with test audiences.
So now they were both in a meeting with their head producer, Valentino.
“I’m really sorry, Mista Val,” Mimzy said in a way that let everyone in the room know she wasn’t sorry, “but I don’t know what more you want from me. You want me to talk, and I’m talking.”
Valentino’s eye twitched. If anything, he probably wanted Mimzy to talk less. Vox long suspected that he would have fired her a long time ago had she not been as successful as she was. Mimzy was the only one that could talk back to the producer without repercussions and took every opportunity to do so. Something that pissed Val off.
“We need you both to talk better.” Valentino said.
“What does that even mean?” Mimzy asked.
“I don’t know.” Valentino said. “I know it when I hear it.”
Mimzy huffed. And Vox took over.
“We’ve learned are lines,” Vox pointed out. “And figured out where the microphones are at so we know where to talk into. It’s…it’s a step up.”
Valentino shot his glare at Vox and Vox shut up.
Then, Valentino stood up from his desk. Vox’s entire body clenched.
It was ok. Mimzy was there. He wouldn’t do anything with Mimzy right there. She’d let all the press know the second she walked out of the studio.
“We need better.” Valentino said. “All of our last pictures have been complete flops because they’re not talkies. We need this next one to be a smash hit. We need acting. Singing. Dancing. That’s what the audience wants. So that’s what you’re going to give them.”
Vox clenched his fingers into the armrest. He found pre-made grooves in the wood. No doubt, the armrests were used to having people’s fingernails digging into it.
“That’s why, to help you two suck less,” Valentino said, “we’ve hired a vocal coach to teach you how to talk.”
Mimzy rolled her eyes.
“We know how to talk.” Mimzy said, “we’re talking right now.”
“Talk better.” Valentino said through gritted teeth. “Like the actors in one of those boring stage plays. Shakespeare shit.”
Vox actually liked Shakespeare. He just never thought he could compare. His works had such gravitas.
“Who did you hire?” Vox asked.
“Some know nothing who knows to keep his mouth shut about all of this.” Valentino said. “An aspiring radio host one of my girl’s knows and recommended. Already met with him. Good singing voice. Can do impressions of famous singers so it sounds like them when he’s not. Skilled on stage. Angel dragged me to see him in some dumb play with faeries where they talked all old.”
A midsummer’s night dream, Vox recognized immediately. A favorite of his where people’s affections are nonsensically flitted between characters. Vox thought it was funny, how the men went for Helena over Hermia despite the two being nearly identical. Seems kind of disingenuous to so easily go after another because they were similar enough to the one you actually wanted.
But he couldn’t help himself from quoting it.
“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,” Vox whispered. “And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”
“What?” Valentino snapped.
“Nothing.” Vox said, snapping his mouth shut again.
“He’s going to meet with both of you.” Valentino said. “And instruct you on how to do your jobs correctly. Obey his every word and follow his every instruction. It’s embarrassing that we even had to hire him.”
Vox nodded. Mimzy looked like she wanted to argue, but she bit her tongue and forced a nod.
“And do me a favor,” Valentino said, “don’t tell anyone he’s here. We don’t need any more bad press. His presence might be…divisive. I’ve already given special instructions on how he’s not to be seen and not heard. No talking with the other employees. He had the common sense not to fight it so at least we know he’s compliant.”
Vox cringed at that word. Compliant.
Vox was compliant…with too many things.
“He’s waiting in Vox’s dressing room.” Valentino said. “Mimzy, go introduce yourself while I talk to Vox. Privately.”
Mimzy’s slightly furrowed brow let them know that she wasn’t completely on board with those instructions. But she stood up.
“Don’t be a stranger, Big Cheese.” Mimzy said. “See ya before quittin’ time, toots.”
Mimzy blew Vox a kiss, but not one to Val. Mimzy wouldn’t even pretend to flirt with Val despite her flirting with everyone. She handed out kisses like candy. Sweet with no substance.
Vox preferred savory over sweet. Or at least something savory with his sweets.
Mimzy shut the door behind her. And the air immediately chilled.
The door had barely closed when Valentino put his hand on Vox’s shoulder, fingers dipping in.
“I’m not joking about keeping things quiet about him.” Valentino said. “We don’t need another co-worker fired now, do we?”
“I’ve learned my lesson.” Vox said, “I don’t…do that anymore. Haven’t for a long time. It was almost five years ago—“
Valentino put his finger to Vox’s lips.
“I don’t care about who you fuck behind the scenes.” Valentino said, almost purring, “If you want to take home the Radio Star, have fun. Just don’t get caught. A fling with a girl on set? The press will eat it up. A fling with a busboy—“
He wasn’t a boy…the man had been three years older than Vox at the time and it had been before his fame hit. Right before his big break.
“They’ll eat you up and drag whatever poor soul you roped into it with you.” Valentino said. “You’ll doom yourself, the studio and whatever lover you pulled into your bed. We can’t afford that, can we?”
“Understood, Sir.” Vox said. “I don’t plan on causing any issues…”
He already felt shitty for that man losing his job while Vox got to keep his. They hadn’t been real lovers. Not really. Just some drunken kisses shared in a closet the night of the big premiere of Vox’s first big picture.
“Good.” Valentino purred. “That’s my little star.”
Val kissed his cheek. Vox repressed the urge to wipe off the saliva with his sleeve.
Luckily, it didn’t go beyond that and Vox was able to leave the office relatively unscathed.
He lingered outside Valentino’s office for a minute, trying to calm his heart. He never knew what to expect from Valentino. Some days, charming. Most days, terrifying.
After a few, Vox headed back to his dressing room…
To find the most handsome man he’d ever seen sitting at his vanity.