Post by xsweetnightmare on Jan 5, 2008 0:20:48 GMT
Chapter Two
Now Marissa thought about it, she had no idea what she was doing here.
“What the hell did you do to my character? Total castration, dude. Get some decent writers.”
“That’s kind of the problem, with the writer’s strike -”
“Just…figure something out that’s half decent, okay?”
The rather intimidated-looking, short, bespectacled writer went running off. Marissa felt sorry for him, and feeling the beginnings of a mood swing, went up to Ross Wilson and smacked him upside the head.
“What the hell was that for?”
“Obvious reasons. God, you’re an ass.”
He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her stomach. “I think by the end of this I’m going to be traumatised.”
“Join the club,” Marissa responded dryly. “You know someone’s desperate when they call the both of us in.”
Ross opened his mouth to retort, only to have The Valley’s exhausted director, Milton, approach. He was a short, slightly balding, but altogether pleasant and friendly-looking guy of about forty.
“Thank god you guys are here. I assume you’re wondering why we wanted both of you on the show. Well,” he continued without waiting for a reply, “Obviously, there’s a writer’s strike going on in Hollywood at the moment. Less scripts for movies, and even then they seem to suck. And most current TV shows are being forced to show reruns because there’s no-one to create new episodes. As for this show, ratings have been consistently dropping over the past couple of years, especially now. Hardly anyone’s watching and we’re an inch from getting cancelled. We really shouldn’t have killed that character off. Not to mention Taryn getting married and divorced to that French guy was a terrible idea. But,” he said with a shrug, “I’ve been directing this show for all seven seasons, and you tend to make mistakes every now and then. The show was most popular in seasons one to four. Basically the times when plotlines actually made sense, people actually watched, and Ross and Ryan gathered female attention. Now, we’ve got one episode written with the current cast. One, and that airs on Thursday.” It was currently Tuesday. “We have two – novice, but good – writers left. We had no idea what to do with the show. So we asked ourselves – what would draw people in again?”
Milton sat down in a nearby chair and went on, “Being the out-of-touch geeks we are, we had no idea what the answer to that question was. We went to the message boards. People were itching for the character of Ethan -” he nodded to Ross, “To come back – obviously, the character would be twenty-three, so about six years older than the rest of the cast. And there was one topic in particular that everyone seemed to be interested in. Should Ethan come back to the show, he would need a love interest of some sort, preferably a teenager so the younger crowd could find it entertaining. The remaining fans started thinking of actresses they would like to play this new character, and the name that kept coming up was Marissa Cooper.”
“But I’m not an actress,” Marissa protested. This was crazy. She was a college student, pregnant and engaged to a celebrity. In most ways, perfectly normal. Why her? “And -” She pointed to her stomach with a ‘duh’ look on her face.
“We can work around that,” Milton dismissed. “Think about it – high school senior runs away from home after getting pregnant by her abusive boyfriend, ends up in The Valley, finds comfort in an older guy. It’s perfect, as is the chemistry between the two of you.”
Ross and Marissa exchanged looks in a brief moment of agreement.
“We hate each other,” Marissa pointed out flatly.
“I’m sure you don’t hate each other. It’s just a dislike, and the bickering between you two – duh.”
“It’s more like catfights than bickering,” pointed out Brett Harris, the obnoxious idiot who played seventeen-year-old Colin.
Marissa pushed her fingers through her hair, stressed. She had gotten the job offer a couple of days back, and had made fun of it. When she showed it to Ryan, expecting they could mock it together, he instead suggested she actually do it. Even when he found out Ross would be involved somewhere. So Marissa had, begrudgingly, turned up to the studios today to find out the details. Playing Ross’s girlfriend? Even if they were a couple of fictional characters, that hit a little close to home and she was certain Ryan wouldn’t be happy about it. She continued to fidget, one hand falling to protectively cradle her stomach. It had become an automatic action.
“Call Ryan then,” Ross said irritably.
Startled, Marissa looked up. “Okay…” She went out of their earshot, called Ryan, and explained. To her complete confusion, he still insisted she go ahead with it. And…besides…Summer would practically force her into it. “Okay,” she said again, turning back to Ross and Milton. “I’ll do it.”
“Argh!”
“What?”
“How do you do this?” Marissa asked, brandishing a test script in her fiancé’s direction. It was later that night and she didn’t have a clue what she was doing.
“Do what…?”
“Act. You could have told me it was really hard.”
Tearing his gaze from the TV, Ryan said, “It’s not hard when you figure it out.”
Marissa sighed dejectedly. No matter how hard she tried, the lines just sounded weird. And the last thing she needed was a ‘Marissa Cooper Fails At Acting’ club. “Could you help me?”
“Okay. First off, you can’t just read the lines. You have to actually get what you’re talking about. You have a whole new character and a whole new story arc, so you could either make her lovable or a pain in the ass. It’s not just the dialogue, it’s the tone, the inflection, even your posture. You really have to be careful on shows like this or the message boards will rip you apart.”
Marissa blinked.
“Was that ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” He noticed the worried look on her face. “Don’t worry. Seriously. If you’re panicking too much about how you look or how you sound, the whole thing will just come across as forced and that will be a whole lot worse. Just relax, add your own things to the character so it’s not plain black and white, and when you’re acting, don’t be Marissa Cooper. You’re -” He glanced at the script, “Lacey Olsen.”
“Okay,” Marissa said, locking everything he told her into her brain. “I get it. Thanks.” She kissed him on the cheek, then hesitated. “Are you sure this is okay? Because I’m sure you don’t want to see me making out with Ross on Thursday nights.”
“It’s not you and Ross. It’s your characters and besides, either that or some smartass interviewers will push you together at an awards show or something and that will just be awkward and even more public. I wouldn’t be where I am without The Valley, even though it’s embarrassing that I was on there. Especially for four entire seasons.”
She chuckled. “It’s just for fun.”
“You never know.”
“I don’t think so. I refuse to become famous.”
Ryan rolled his eyes, “Marissa, wake up. You’re famous. Deal with it.”
“Yeah, but not famous famous. I mean, I didn’t do anything worthwhile to become a household name.”
“It took us all night, but we’ve got ourselves an episode,” Milton was saying proudly at four-thirty a.m. the next morning, eyes shining with anticipation. Marissa’s eyelids fluttered and she almost tripped over a cable; Ross instinctively reached out to prevent her from falling. “From what we film today we have to make a trailer, which should be finished in time to show after tomorrow night’s episode.” Milton handed the two of them their scripts. “Hopefully you can memorise the first scene you’re in by the time you’re out of hair and make-up.”
“You’ve got the most gorgeous eyes,” the young make-up artist was saying, gushing over Ross. Marissa shook her head, muttered a vague insult under her breath and focussed on her lines. She appreciated her good memory very much at the moment.
The first scene that she was in was also the opening scene; she was in a sleazy-looking and crowded bar, acting angsty. Literally.
Slightly freaked out by everyone in the crew and most of the cast gawking at her, Marissa prepared to start the scene. She had read this part of the script a million times over already, analysed it, and she remembered what Ryan had said. When she was on the set, she was Lacey, high school senior. Not Marissa.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Summer reached for more popcorn; Seth, Marissa, and Ryan stared at her apprehensively. It had been an extremely long, constant two days of filming and they had gotten that episode done, while those two poor, overworked writers struggled to think of something new. “Oh my god!” she said yet again, gesturing to the TV.
“Next week on The Valley.” The credits for that night’s episode faded out, to be replaced by the swiftly put together though effective trailer. “Guess what, girls?” (Seth chose then to interrupt with, ‘Isn’t that sexist?’, which merely got him a good elbow to the ribs). There was Ross, aka Ethan, getting out of his overpriced and over shiny sports car. “Ethan’s back.”
“He has the most incredible body,” Summer mused, which only earned more stares. “What?”
“- and that’s not all. There’s a new girl on the scene set to shake things up.” Insert a short segment of Marissa’s bar scene. “That’s right, Marissa Cooper is the newest star of The Valley.”
“I’m not a star,” Marissa pointed out, slightly agitated. “I’m only doing this for a few episodes. I think.”
“- tune in at nine p.m. next Thursday.”
After Ryan and Marissa left the penthouse, Seth was deep in thought, going over his observations for the night. “This is so going to cause problems.”
“Yeah,” Summer said, knowing he'd stated the obvious there. “You know what, I’m just going to cover my eyes when Coop and Wilson do a sex scene.”
Seth laughed in a rather nervous, faintly traumatised manner, “I seriously doubt Ryan will allow that.”
“It’s going to happen, Cohen. Bet me.”
“I have this uneasy feeling you’re right, so no. And is it me, or is Ryan acting a little weird lately?”
“At least I know I’m not imagining it,” Summer remarked, frowning slightly. “I mean, first he suggests Marissa takes this role when he knows she’s not comfortable with being an actress in the first place. Then she finds out she’s playing Ross’s – or Ethan’s, whatever – girlfriend, which means making out and that on TV, and normal Atwood would freak and probably throw a tantrum.”
“Exactly,” Seth agreed. Ryan really hadn’t been himself recently. He was just acting flat-out weird to be honest. Had Marissa noticed it? “And The Valley is like PG-13 porn half the time. Like that wouldn’t set off alarm bells.”
“I don’t know,” his wife sighed. “I know Coop’s not too happy with doing this. And I know she hates Ross. Plus she’s going to be a mom and she’s scared, and she’s worried she’s not good enough for Ryan.” She paused. “Is there something in the water, or did Atwood get a personality transplant?”
Now Marissa thought about it, she had no idea what she was doing here.
“What the hell did you do to my character? Total castration, dude. Get some decent writers.”
“That’s kind of the problem, with the writer’s strike -”
“Just…figure something out that’s half decent, okay?”
The rather intimidated-looking, short, bespectacled writer went running off. Marissa felt sorry for him, and feeling the beginnings of a mood swing, went up to Ross Wilson and smacked him upside the head.
“What the hell was that for?”
“Obvious reasons. God, you’re an ass.”
He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her stomach. “I think by the end of this I’m going to be traumatised.”
“Join the club,” Marissa responded dryly. “You know someone’s desperate when they call the both of us in.”
Ross opened his mouth to retort, only to have The Valley’s exhausted director, Milton, approach. He was a short, slightly balding, but altogether pleasant and friendly-looking guy of about forty.
“Thank god you guys are here. I assume you’re wondering why we wanted both of you on the show. Well,” he continued without waiting for a reply, “Obviously, there’s a writer’s strike going on in Hollywood at the moment. Less scripts for movies, and even then they seem to suck. And most current TV shows are being forced to show reruns because there’s no-one to create new episodes. As for this show, ratings have been consistently dropping over the past couple of years, especially now. Hardly anyone’s watching and we’re an inch from getting cancelled. We really shouldn’t have killed that character off. Not to mention Taryn getting married and divorced to that French guy was a terrible idea. But,” he said with a shrug, “I’ve been directing this show for all seven seasons, and you tend to make mistakes every now and then. The show was most popular in seasons one to four. Basically the times when plotlines actually made sense, people actually watched, and Ross and Ryan gathered female attention. Now, we’ve got one episode written with the current cast. One, and that airs on Thursday.” It was currently Tuesday. “We have two – novice, but good – writers left. We had no idea what to do with the show. So we asked ourselves – what would draw people in again?”
Milton sat down in a nearby chair and went on, “Being the out-of-touch geeks we are, we had no idea what the answer to that question was. We went to the message boards. People were itching for the character of Ethan -” he nodded to Ross, “To come back – obviously, the character would be twenty-three, so about six years older than the rest of the cast. And there was one topic in particular that everyone seemed to be interested in. Should Ethan come back to the show, he would need a love interest of some sort, preferably a teenager so the younger crowd could find it entertaining. The remaining fans started thinking of actresses they would like to play this new character, and the name that kept coming up was Marissa Cooper.”
“But I’m not an actress,” Marissa protested. This was crazy. She was a college student, pregnant and engaged to a celebrity. In most ways, perfectly normal. Why her? “And -” She pointed to her stomach with a ‘duh’ look on her face.
“We can work around that,” Milton dismissed. “Think about it – high school senior runs away from home after getting pregnant by her abusive boyfriend, ends up in The Valley, finds comfort in an older guy. It’s perfect, as is the chemistry between the two of you.”
Ross and Marissa exchanged looks in a brief moment of agreement.
“We hate each other,” Marissa pointed out flatly.
“I’m sure you don’t hate each other. It’s just a dislike, and the bickering between you two – duh.”
“It’s more like catfights than bickering,” pointed out Brett Harris, the obnoxious idiot who played seventeen-year-old Colin.
Marissa pushed her fingers through her hair, stressed. She had gotten the job offer a couple of days back, and had made fun of it. When she showed it to Ryan, expecting they could mock it together, he instead suggested she actually do it. Even when he found out Ross would be involved somewhere. So Marissa had, begrudgingly, turned up to the studios today to find out the details. Playing Ross’s girlfriend? Even if they were a couple of fictional characters, that hit a little close to home and she was certain Ryan wouldn’t be happy about it. She continued to fidget, one hand falling to protectively cradle her stomach. It had become an automatic action.
“Call Ryan then,” Ross said irritably.
Startled, Marissa looked up. “Okay…” She went out of their earshot, called Ryan, and explained. To her complete confusion, he still insisted she go ahead with it. And…besides…Summer would practically force her into it. “Okay,” she said again, turning back to Ross and Milton. “I’ll do it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
“Argh!”
“What?”
“How do you do this?” Marissa asked, brandishing a test script in her fiancé’s direction. It was later that night and she didn’t have a clue what she was doing.
“Do what…?”
“Act. You could have told me it was really hard.”
Tearing his gaze from the TV, Ryan said, “It’s not hard when you figure it out.”
Marissa sighed dejectedly. No matter how hard she tried, the lines just sounded weird. And the last thing she needed was a ‘Marissa Cooper Fails At Acting’ club. “Could you help me?”
“Okay. First off, you can’t just read the lines. You have to actually get what you’re talking about. You have a whole new character and a whole new story arc, so you could either make her lovable or a pain in the ass. It’s not just the dialogue, it’s the tone, the inflection, even your posture. You really have to be careful on shows like this or the message boards will rip you apart.”
Marissa blinked.
“Was that ‘yes’ or ‘no’?” He noticed the worried look on her face. “Don’t worry. Seriously. If you’re panicking too much about how you look or how you sound, the whole thing will just come across as forced and that will be a whole lot worse. Just relax, add your own things to the character so it’s not plain black and white, and when you’re acting, don’t be Marissa Cooper. You’re -” He glanced at the script, “Lacey Olsen.”
“Okay,” Marissa said, locking everything he told her into her brain. “I get it. Thanks.” She kissed him on the cheek, then hesitated. “Are you sure this is okay? Because I’m sure you don’t want to see me making out with Ross on Thursday nights.”
“It’s not you and Ross. It’s your characters and besides, either that or some smartass interviewers will push you together at an awards show or something and that will just be awkward and even more public. I wouldn’t be where I am without The Valley, even though it’s embarrassing that I was on there. Especially for four entire seasons.”
She chuckled. “It’s just for fun.”
“You never know.”
“I don’t think so. I refuse to become famous.”
Ryan rolled his eyes, “Marissa, wake up. You’re famous. Deal with it.”
“Yeah, but not famous famous. I mean, I didn’t do anything worthwhile to become a household name.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“It took us all night, but we’ve got ourselves an episode,” Milton was saying proudly at four-thirty a.m. the next morning, eyes shining with anticipation. Marissa’s eyelids fluttered and she almost tripped over a cable; Ross instinctively reached out to prevent her from falling. “From what we film today we have to make a trailer, which should be finished in time to show after tomorrow night’s episode.” Milton handed the two of them their scripts. “Hopefully you can memorise the first scene you’re in by the time you’re out of hair and make-up.”
“You’ve got the most gorgeous eyes,” the young make-up artist was saying, gushing over Ross. Marissa shook her head, muttered a vague insult under her breath and focussed on her lines. She appreciated her good memory very much at the moment.
The first scene that she was in was also the opening scene; she was in a sleazy-looking and crowded bar, acting angsty. Literally.
Slightly freaked out by everyone in the crew and most of the cast gawking at her, Marissa prepared to start the scene. She had read this part of the script a million times over already, analysed it, and she remembered what Ryan had said. When she was on the set, she was Lacey, high school senior. Not Marissa.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Summer reached for more popcorn; Seth, Marissa, and Ryan stared at her apprehensively. It had been an extremely long, constant two days of filming and they had gotten that episode done, while those two poor, overworked writers struggled to think of something new. “Oh my god!” she said yet again, gesturing to the TV.
“Next week on The Valley.” The credits for that night’s episode faded out, to be replaced by the swiftly put together though effective trailer. “Guess what, girls?” (Seth chose then to interrupt with, ‘Isn’t that sexist?’, which merely got him a good elbow to the ribs). There was Ross, aka Ethan, getting out of his overpriced and over shiny sports car. “Ethan’s back.”
“He has the most incredible body,” Summer mused, which only earned more stares. “What?”
“- and that’s not all. There’s a new girl on the scene set to shake things up.” Insert a short segment of Marissa’s bar scene. “That’s right, Marissa Cooper is the newest star of The Valley.”
“I’m not a star,” Marissa pointed out, slightly agitated. “I’m only doing this for a few episodes. I think.”
“- tune in at nine p.m. next Thursday.”
After Ryan and Marissa left the penthouse, Seth was deep in thought, going over his observations for the night. “This is so going to cause problems.”
“Yeah,” Summer said, knowing he'd stated the obvious there. “You know what, I’m just going to cover my eyes when Coop and Wilson do a sex scene.”
Seth laughed in a rather nervous, faintly traumatised manner, “I seriously doubt Ryan will allow that.”
“It’s going to happen, Cohen. Bet me.”
“I have this uneasy feeling you’re right, so no. And is it me, or is Ryan acting a little weird lately?”
“At least I know I’m not imagining it,” Summer remarked, frowning slightly. “I mean, first he suggests Marissa takes this role when he knows she’s not comfortable with being an actress in the first place. Then she finds out she’s playing Ross’s – or Ethan’s, whatever – girlfriend, which means making out and that on TV, and normal Atwood would freak and probably throw a tantrum.”
“Exactly,” Seth agreed. Ryan really hadn’t been himself recently. He was just acting flat-out weird to be honest. Had Marissa noticed it? “And The Valley is like PG-13 porn half the time. Like that wouldn’t set off alarm bells.”
“I don’t know,” his wife sighed. “I know Coop’s not too happy with doing this. And I know she hates Ross. Plus she’s going to be a mom and she’s scared, and she’s worried she’s not good enough for Ryan.” She paused. “Is there something in the water, or did Atwood get a personality transplant?”