Unscripted Act II

Chapter 1“Live from beautiful downtown Los Angeles, it’s Midnight Oil! With your host, Lester Craig!” The sound of jazz music filled the air as a live studio audience cheered, a flashing “applause” sign flickering above them. The late night stage, complete with a mock backdrop of LA’s skyline, lit up dramatically. A desk sat beside a plush couch and coffee table. Matching mugs with the Midnight Oil logo were in plain view of the three monitoring cameras. A man stepped into the spotlight with his hands held high. He was handsome, with sculpted brown hair and a standard suit and tie. His perfect, Hollywood smile gleamed beneath the lighting. “Thank you!” he called. His voice quickly quieted both the music and the audience. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! Wow, great crowd out here tonight, great crowd. You can always tell a Hollywood crowd from the rest of the country, you know that? All you have to do is throw them all in water. The silicone will usually float the Californians to the top.” Laughter accompanied the joke, and Lester continued. “And if you want to sort out them from the Beverly Hills people, just see who can actually smile.” A rimshot followed his second joke while Lester pretended to inject Botox into his forehead. “Anyway, we got a great show for you folks tonight. Singer songwriter Georgie Stapleton will be joining us later—” His words were cut off by the cheers. He only smiled brighter. “But first,” Lester continued, “we’ve got a real treat for you tonight. Our first guest is making his debut here on the Midnight Oil. He’s been on the acting scene for less than a decade, but has recently skyrocketed in popularity thanks to the success of his hit show, Hot Blood.” The crowd erupted with screams, the intensity even taking Lester back a bit. “All right, calm down, you animals.” Again, Lester was met with laughter. “He is a phenomenally talented actor and has seated himself as America’s hottest heart throb. Please welcome Mr. Ethan Teller!” The audience went wild as Lester turned to applaud his first guest of the night. Lights and cameras pointed stage right just as another man stepped into view. Ethan smiled, one hand waving at the mindlessly screaming fans in the audience. His black hair was full and expertly styled, lying against his handsome brow effortlessly. His grey eyes glittered in the limelight, a loose, tailored blazer hanging from his well-rounded shoulders. His smile, complete with perfect, pearly white teeth, was fit for the cover of a magazine, no retouch needed. As he walked to the sofa, he paused, the crowd continuing to thunder with excitement. Lester had sat down by then, and watched with amusement as Ethan was kept on his feet a while longer. When he was finally able to sit down, the host chuckled to himself. “You know, they never get excited for me like that,” he joked. Ethan laughed easily. “That’s a shame, you’re so exciting.” Lester straightened his note cards. “Thanks for coming on the show, Ethan.” “Thanks for having me.” “Now, this is your third season with Hot Blood, is that right?” “Yes. The finale airs this weekend actually—” On cue, the audience burst into glee, and the two men laughed. “They just love you,” Lester teased. “Yeah,” Ethan replied. “I have no idea why…” After the laughs settled down, the interview continued. “Lazarus Hamish, your character, is by far one of the most interesting men on television right now. Wouldn’t you say?” Ethan’s brow drew together. “He certainly is a fascinating guy,” he agreed. “When I first started doing this show, there was so much talk about him and his character. They wanted someone who fit what we were familiar with in a sort of renegade cop, but I think his past, and his love affairs and ties with the darker side of his world, are what that makes him so much more three-dimensional.” “He’s got sort of an anti-hero complex, doesn’t he?” “Yeah, I’d say so. I mean at the beginning of the show, you saw him as someone trying to turn over a new leaf. As the show progresses, and with the death of his wife, you kind of see him reverting back into his old ways when he was on the other side of the law. And I think this finale and the season that comes after that is really going to play into that story.” “And what about you?” Lester continued. “Do you have any similarities with Lazarus? Anything you like to draw on for him?” “Well…I mean, I haven’t killed anyone, so that’s nice.” More laughter. “Um…No, not really. I mean I love playing him, and being that sort of bad-ass that everyone kind of fantasizes about but…I dunno…I wouldn’t say we’re very alike.” “Well you look alike.” “Yeah. I got that going for me, at least, heh. I think I’d be very scared if I bumped into him on the street, though. He knows how to fight very well and I…I do not.” He laughed at his own joke, dripping with charm. “I’d imagine that wouldn’t go over well.” “No. He’s not exactly friendly, you know?” “Ha ha. Right, right.” Lester swapped a card in his stack. “Now, I heard rumors that Hot Blood was up for an Emmy this year, is that right?” The house cheered, and Ethan responded with a sly little smile. “Well,” he began, “they don’t really tell me things, so—” The crowd laughed again. “Yeah, we’re up for best drama and best leading actor, as well as a few others.” Applause greeted this statement and Ethan nodded in thanks to the audience. “Congratulations on the nominations, man,” said Lester sincerely. “Let me tell ya, I’ve been watching since it started and I’m absolutely blown away every single week. You earned those.” “Thank you.” Lester rounded to the audience, which was once more exploding with cheers. “All right, stick around, we’re gonna show an exclusive clip from tomorrow’s season finale! Don’t go anywhere, this is Midnight Oil!” And just like that, the lights faded down, and the crowd dissolved into mumbles. With their microphones off, Lester and Ethan were allowed a moment to themselves. Ethan, the spotlight gone from him, dropped his smile the second he could. He took a long, deep breath through his nose, eyes closed and hand tight on the sofa’s arm rest. Lester handed Ethan a bottle of water. “You okay?” he asked quietly. Ethan took the bottle with a nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He drank a bit, hoping it would calm his racing heart. Lester edged closer, elbows along his desk. “Your manager told me about all this.” He gestured to Ethan vaguely. “If you want, we can take a break from the interview. I can run the skit early, give you a chance to catch your breath…” Ethan hesitated. It was a tempting offer. His eyes lingered on one of the cameras. The red light was on, but the camera man was idle. For a moment, he imagined just who it was who could watch him on the other side of that live feed. Ethan felt a little bristle of courage pluck up in his chest. “No,” he said, regaining his composure. “No, I’m good to go. I don’t want to be downtown for too long. Besides…” He smiled. It was a true, sweet smile, its sincerity not so easily found in a place like Hollywood. “Somebody special’s watching.” * * * * It took forever for Ethan to unclog his car from the congestion of the 110 Freeway, even at two in the morning. But finally, Ethan managed to break away from the herd and headed into Pasadena. His eyes itched from fatigue as he turned down his street. He couldn’t wait to just roll into bed and pass out for a good eight hours. He could only hope that a certain someone had the sense to be in bed already. As he pulled into his driveway, however, Ethan spotted the living room lights still on. Still, he smiled. Ethan parked and headed to the front door, wondering if that someone inside had fallen asleep in front of the TV. Keys jingling against the doorknob, he began to push it open. “Finn—?” “Tweeeeeeeeee—!” Ethan jumped as a multicolored, paper party horn greeted him first. In front of him stood a 5’4”, blond haired, blue eyed fanboy with a loudly colored party hat on his head. He stood in his socks, boxer shorts and favorite Hot Blood T-shirt, his apple red cheeks puffed out as he smiled against his plastic toy. Behind him, a shiny, dollar store sign was strung on the hallway ceiling, reading CONGRATULATIONS in big tinfoil letters. When Finn had no more air to blow, he took the party horn away from his lips and clapped his hands together. Finn’s smile was massive. “I watched the whole thing!” he swooned. “You were so awesome! I even rewound my favorite parts to rewatch! I’m so proud of you, it came out so great!” Ethan took a second. His eyes went from the hat to the sign and back down again to Finn’s expectant face. “Is that what all this is about?” he asked blankly. “It was just a TV interview.” Finn looked morally affronted. “Wha—?! No, no! It wasn’t just a TV interview! It was Midnight Oil! Everyone who’s super famous goes on there! And it was your first appearance, too! It’s a crazy big deal!” He then turned and pointed to the couch. “See? Even Oscar’s celebrating!” Oscar, Ethan’s fat, brown, squish-faced cat currently sat on the headrest of Ethan’s couch, an equally offensive party hat drooping off one side of his head. How he had the patience to allow Finn to try and put one on him in the first place was beyond Ethan. Ethan couldn’t help himself. He began to snicker. One hand on his stomach, he snorted with laughter. When he had calmed down enough to catch his breath, he turned his smiling eyes to Finn, and leaned in. The two shared a tender, sentimental kiss. “This was very sweet,” Ethan said. “Thank you.” Finn lit up like a lightbulb. “Well I know how hard that probably was for you. So I thought a little pick-me-up was needed when you got home.” Ethan’s smile softened. “Thank you,” he repeated. “But I think I want to go to bed. You should have been asleep hours ago.” “Huh?” Finn looked over his shoulder at Ethan’s wall clock. “Oh, but it’s not even three!” Ethan chuckled. “Some of us need to get on a regular sleep schedule soon. In fact, all of us do. Shannon is probably going to want you up at the crack of dawn in the mornings for hair and makeup.” If at all possible, Finn’s smile grew wider. While their (admittedly very short) romance had given them a vacation from responsibilities and work, season four of Hot Blood would begin shooting very soon. Finn had been hired as a makeup assistant for the show, so both he and Ethan had their parts to play. “She wants me with her as much as possible,” he said. “I’m mostly going to be responsible for the little things on set. Might end up doing some gophering too, but I don’t really care.” Finn had started his career in show biz as an onsight “gopher” and grip; his main duties were getting people coffee and holding big microphones. Due to Finn’s butterfingers, the latter didn’t go so well. “I’m just glad I get to go back with you!” “Shouldn’t you be happier that you’re going to be a paid artist?” Ethan teased. “Oh don’t worry, I’m plenty happy!” Finn hugged Ethan around his middle, chin resting between his pecks. “I plan on working the hardest I’ve ever worked, trust me! But nothing makes me happier than watching you do what you do best. There are times when I still can’t believe that this is my life now.” Ethan wrapped his arms around Finn’s shoulders, the two of them gently swaying together. “Well we’re roommates. Might as well believe it.” They shared a laugh and fell into another kiss, deeper than the last, and pretty soon, their hands began to move around not-so-innocently. They started to move their way back towards the bedroom, Ethan removing Finn’s ridiculous party hat on the way there. Once they found their way to the room, Finn’s eager fingers undid the buttons on Ethan’s over-priced, once well ironed shirt, that was now delightfully wrinkled. Soon enough, Ethan helped, tossing the shirt aside. Finn took that as an opportunity to slide his hands up and down Ethan’s perfectly toned body. Not so long ago, such a scene would have been nothing more than a daydream.