Chapter 15
Hi all, I feel this chapter was a bit of a rushed job, but I hope you all find it good. With that said, we will be picking up some speed in the next chapters.
Alpha_astro takes for the advice, and after I get a few chapters in, I may load it over on the fanfic section part of the site. The site itself doesn't seem to let me do just a whole move over.
Now, always remember if you have an idea or a movie you wish the MC to do, just toss it out there, and I will try to fit it in. I am not going to lie I mostly pick at random anyways.
On with the story.
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"I want to take a moment and talk about personal favors. There is no such thing as a no-strings-attached favor in Hollywood. The moment you ask someone for a favor, it's a lot like in The Godfather when that undertaker goes to the Don for help. You have to repay the favor in turn at some point in time. If you don't, well, good luck ever working in Hollywood again. On that note something I never told Jennifer. To get her an audition, I had to make a non-binding verbal agreement with Arnold Kopelson that for the next 5 years, he would get the first bid on all scripts I wrote. That meant that before I even sent them to the WGA, he got to look at them and make an offer on behalf of whoever he was working for at the time. It was a non-verbal agreement I kept." Caesar Espinar.
-1997-
This is not what it looks like. I know what you are thinking, and I can assure you it's not what it looks like. I am not even sure how this happened, but when I woke up the following morning after the cookout at David's place, I found myself lying next to a very naked Tiffani Thiessen and Salma Hayek—a teenage boy's or really any man's wet dream. Yet, I felt like the Grim Reaper had its scythe at my throat for some reason. Perhaps I am jumping a bit ahead here, so let us back it up a bit for context.
Returning to the cookout, when I was lying down watching Tiffani and Salma talk, I had an awful feeling crawling down my back. After all, when your ex-girlfriend and current girlfriend get together and start talking, it can never be a good thing, especially if they look like they are getting along. And I know what you're thinking, but Caesar, you are currently lying in a bed naked with two of the hottest women in Hollywood. How can that be a bad thing? You clearly fucked both of them, and your right; I did fuck them. All night long, in fact, but you see, there is no such thing as no strings attached to anything.
You see after the three of us left David's and returned to my apartment to talk, it became clear what this was about. Those smiles at the cookout that I saw were not smiles of friendship. They were jabs and sharp hooks. They were doing that thing only women could do well. Challenging each other and insulting each other with smiles on their faces. This wasn't one of those. Oh, we both love him, so let's share him moments. It was I am a better fuck than you are, you overrated bitch moments. With me trapped in the middle.
How that turned into a threesome that I clearly enjoyed, I have no clue. Nor did I really question it when they started to take off their clothes and feel each other up. No, I just sat back and enjoyed the show till they turned their attention to me. Then, I just took what was offered. Foolish and shortsighted, yes, did I regret it? Fuck no. That said, I wasn't about to risk sticking around when they woke up. Last night was fun, and I wasn't the only one who enjoyed myself, but moments that happen in fits of passion or rage pass quickly. Last night they were willing to suck my dick together and eat each other's cunts out. This morning, they may want to cut my balls off. No, discretion was the better part of valor and all that in this case.
So, getting up slowly, I go to my closet and get some clothes before heading out. I can catch a shower at the gym before heading to the studio where Jennifer's album is being made. Having yet to drop off the final draft of the lyrics I wrote for her album as well as music sheets I had written, it gave me a good excuse to get the fuck out of the apartment.
Once I got to the studio, nothing exciting happened. I dropped off the lyrics and music sheets to Mark Cory Rooney, met with a few others I didn't know, and then left. Oh, I did meet Sean John Combs, aka Puff Daddy, momentarily. He was alright, but I can't say I liked the guy when we talked for the little bit we did. I was not a fan of his music, but seeing as we were both working on Jennifer's album, the people at the top felt we should meet. Outside that, I didn't want anything to do with him and him with me.
After that, I had to attend an important meeting with Joss Whedon and several other WB television executives. The final TV rating for Buffy had just come out, and they wanted to talk.
It goes without saying that when I arrived at the WB HQ, Joss and the WB executives were happy—not excited, but pleased with the rating we were seeing. Averaging just above 4.5 million views in its first season, it was something the executives didn't expect to happen. So when it did, they were, of course, happy and willing to put more resources into the show. That included me, of course, who, while only a writer on the show, knew I was the one who wrote most of the first season. Joss may have put it all together, but they felt like he wouldn't have been able to do so well if it wasn't for my writing talent and wished to have me write the 2nd season as well.
It wasn't only them, however. Joss and I actually got along pretty well during the writing sessions for the first season. After we got past a few hiccups, like him being a fan of my movies, we started to treat each other more like coworkers. He was the boss, of course, but I was a valued employee, and it showed during our talks. Now that the first season was over, they wanted me back and were willing to pay a good amount of money to have me back, but I was playing it off like I was unsure if I wished to come back. Not because I didn't like working on the show but because I was frankly busy. Something I had hinted to Joss more than once when we were on set together.
"Caesar, are you sure there isn't anything we can do to have you write for the 2nd season?" Joss asks again for like the 4th or 5th time.
"Joss, Joss, my friend, you know I would love to, but I am unsure if I can. I have three movies coming out this year alone, and you know I am working on something with Spielberg and trying to sell The Strangers. I don't know if I have the time to work on the show." I tell Joss, but he doesn't look happy at hearing it.
Not because he didn't already know about all of this but because he, in fact, did know all too well about all of it. He was no fool, after all. Even he wasn't sure if Buffy would be successful when he first pitched the idea and, in his mind, got lucky that WB was able to get me to write on the show in the first place. So, when I told him, I had other things going on, including a project with Spielberg, whom he had worked with before. It was just good sense to him to spread yourself out instead of putting all your eggs in one basket. Now that Buffy was an expected success, however, he was not so understanding.
As for the WB executives, they were far less informed on what was going on in the movie business. They were not stupid either and knew that I had my hand in a lot of pies, so to speak, but they hadn't known that I was working on something with Spielberg and cursed themselves for not being better informed. But then, how would they know? Sure, Steven, being the businessman he was, let it slip that he was personally working on a new project, but he kept the details as vague as possible. Even going so far as to keep my name out of it. I had only gotten the go-ahead to talk about it from the man a few months ago, but I also felt the need to keep things as unclear as possible. Now that I have said it, it couldn't be taken back, and the executives know that I had entered the big leagues. Spielberg was the man; only a fool would pass up working with him on anything.
Again, however, they were smart guys and caught another detail that they hoped to use.
"Mr. Espinar, did we hear you right when you said that you had another script you were trying to sell but were having trouble doing so?" One of the executives asks.
"That is right," I say to the man whose name I couldn't remember.
Looking at each other, another executive asks, "Can we ask why? You are, after all, currently one of the top writers in Hollywood."
What isn't said is that I should be having no trouble at all selling a script right now. So, they indirectly implied they could help with that, which I had no doubt they could. After all, being part of Warner Bros meant they had ways of making things happen, even if they were part of the TV broadcasting business and not the movie-making business. That is how connections work, after all.
Taking a drag of my smoke, I say, "It's mostly because of who I want to cast for both the lead actress and one of the killers."
"Oh, and who are they?" One of the executives asks.
"Tiffani Thiessen would be one of the killers, and Elizabeth Berkley one of the victims," I say to them.
Upon hearing these names, they all take a moment, though Joss looks somewhat interested. The reason why the others don't seem as interested is easy to understand. Tiffani's image as the girl next door was set in stone. Seeing her as a killer wasn't something any of them saw or wanted to see. As for Elizabeth, well, Showgirls tanked her career. They neither had the want or desire to work with her. She wasn't blacklisted, mind you, but she wasn't far from it either. No one wanted to work with her, but I did, and it was all that mattered right now.
Now, they had to decide if helping me was worth the effort. Two women, one who they thought wouldn't make a good killer in any way, shape, or form, and another whose career was basically over. It was a lot to ask, but then they had much to gain.
"Caesar, do you mind waiting outside while we talk?" One of the executives asks.
"Sure," I respond, standing up and making for the door. Leaving the room and those inside behind to talk.
So let me save you all some time on what happened next. Ultimately, the Warner Bros. executives, influenced by Joss, decided that the potential rewards outweighed the risks. They did not personally perceive any potential for the Strangers, with Tiff playing a killer and Elizabeth playing a role in it. But at the end of the day, they were in the TV business, not the movie business. They may end up burning more than a few bridges, but so long as season 2 of Buffy did well, that was all that mattered to them.
As for Joss, he had expressed his interest in directing the film himself. It was not a surprise as I had told him my ideas for the Strangers months ago, and while I didn't share everything with him. The concept of random acts of violence for no reason got his attraction. The only thing he didn't know about the Strangers was who I had in mind for the starting roles. Now that he knew who they were, he was both intrigued and unsure. Sure, he got a kick at the thought of Tiff playing a killer, but he didn't know if she could pull it off. But if she could, wouldn't that be a thing to see? It was safe to say that Tiff would get her shot at playing a killer, which would make her happy and was all that mattered to me, especially since I had to go home at some point in time.
"What happened to your face?" Alyson Lee Hannigan's voice calls out from across me.
Looking up at said woman, I take a moment to look at her. Of all the people on the Buffy set, she was perhaps the one I liked the most. While I worked with Sarah the most out of the whole cast, Allison was the one I got along with the most, and for one simple reason. She was an amusing woman and a joy to be around. I had looked in my mind about what she would be in down the line, and I couldn't help but smirk at how fitting her role in a movie that would end up being called American Pie really was for her. She was smart, spunky, and had a sense of humor bordering on sexual harassment. Overall, it was just a joy to be around her, so I invited her out to lunch with me. Not because I had any sexual desires towards her, which I did, but because she was just fun to be around.
"Tiff slapped me earlier," I tell her as I bite my cheeseburger.
"Why?" She asks with an amused voice.
"Because we had sex," I tell her.
Looking at me with a broad smile, she says, "Oh, so kinky. I didn't know you liked to be slapped during sex."
I give her a deadpan look and say, "I don't."
"Then why did she slap you? Oh, did you try butt stuff without permission?" Alyson asks with an even more amused smile.
Giving her a look, I say, "What?"
"I had a boyfriend who tried putting it in my butt without permission. I was not happy when he tried that time." Alyson says.
"That time?" I ask.
"Hmmm? Well, come on, Caesar. I am not the type of girl to not try something a second time just because my first was bad." Alyson says to me with a wide smile.
It left me wondering if I should find that hot or just question her sanity. Shaking my head, I forgot it and moved on.
"No, that isn't the reason, and Tiff has no problem with butt stuff," I smirk at her and earn a whistle in turn from her.
"Then why did she slap you." She asks again.
"Because I fucked Salma."
Taken aback a bit, Alyson didn't think I was the cheating kind, so she asked, "You cheated on Tiff?"
"Nope." Is my one-worded answer.
Which leaves her a bit confused. Having met Tiff a few times before, Alyson didn't think she was the type to hold someone's past against them. Then, suddenly, it clicks into place. If Caesar didn't cheat on her, then that could only mean one thing.
So, with eyes wide open, she asks, "Oh my God, both of them?"
This time, I nod at her, and her mouth slightly hangs open in shock. Alyson was, of course, no prude by any means. She openly talked about her sex life with others and her fantasies, some of which dealt with other women. However, she had a strong preference for men and was not sure at all if she could ever actually have sex with a woman, nonetheless a threesome.
"How and the hell did that happen?" She asks me.
I wave her off and say, "I have no clue, but I paid the price for it clearly."
"Wait, I am getting confused. Were you not supposed to have a threesome with them?" Alyson asks, not getting why I got slapped for it. To have a threesome, three people have to agree to have sex with each other, so she was clearly missing something.
"It seems like that was the case, though me leaving before either of them woke up may have played a part in getting slapped," I say in the same confusion she most likely felt.
Letting out a small giggle, Alyson says, "Well, Caesar bitches are crazy."
I laugh lightly at that and smile.
"So tell me, other than your exciting sex life. What's up? Did you sign on to write for Buffy next season?"
"I did, and that is one of the reasons why I asked you to be here today."
"Oh?" Alyson asks.
"Next season, Willow will grow as a character. Perhaps more than all the other characters. So you're going to have to be ready for that." I tell her.
"Oh, I am ready, Caesar," Alyson says.
Nodding my head, I say, "Good, now on to the real reason I called you here. How do you feel about playing a killer in The Strangers."
Alyson laughs at hearing this. Not thinking I was being serious, but when I didn't laugh, she just looked at me for a moment, then asked, "Wait, for real?
I nod my head and say, "Tiff is already set to play the lead killer. I need another female for the 2nd killer. Since the purpose of this movie is to depict random acts of violence by ordinary-looking individuals, having you and Tiff portray killers is appropriate.
"Wow, Caesar, I mean, wow, no one will see that coming," Alyson says.
"So you in?" I ask her
"Hell, yes, I am in. Fuck this is going to be great. I bet it will be as big as Scream." She says. Looking forward to playing the role.
The honest truth is that I doubted it would do anywhere near as well as Scream, but as long as my next couple of movies did well, it should do okay, which would only add to my credibility. Perhaps I should look into writing American Pie? No, forget it, I really didn't like teen comedies all that much. Besides, my site was set on an even bigger comedy than American Pie.