Casey wasn't surprised that a sober person wouldn't recognize him. Most of his diehard fans were alcoholics after all. He pondered the ethical dilemma for a bit as he casually listened to the conversation.
"Good luck Wesley, I'd love to see that show." Casey said as Jon got up and walked off while fidgeting with his phone.
He slid a card along the table towards Wesley. "This isn't any of my business, and I'll keep my mouth shut about it and all. But when you sign and want some publicity for the upcoming show. You are invited."
Casey gave a sincere smile followed by an apology.
"If I don't get at least 5 of these cards out to people tonight my manager will never let me hear the end of it. Might as well try and hand them out to people who'd make a nice show right?"

Casey took his glass, handed Jonathan his and toasted.
"May the saddest of your tomorrows be happier than the happiest of your yesterdays."
It was clear that wasn't his line, and he didn't know who's it was. But that didn't matter much.
"Vague lines are part of the drinking ritual. As are games."
Casey pointed to the sign on the seat next to Jonathan.
"Like betting on whether Miss Claire has yet to find her seat, or is actively avoiding it."
He then pointed at Serena over at the bar.
She was standing there with her composure in tact. You'd never have guessed that someone just made a mess all over her if you'd hadn't seen it yourself.
Casey made a mental note: 'liquid repelling clothing: clever.'

Wes

Wesley felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket and scanned the message, assuming it would just be Jon’s lines, instead he saw a picture he forgot about.

He had yet to change the photo that came up any time Jen contacted him. It was his way of staying close he guessed. He opened up the text that read

Hey Ruffian, Tilly is playing up with the nanny. Gonna be a bit late <3

They may have broken up nearly a year prior but other than the fact they no longer slept together, you wouldn’t be remiss in thinking they were still together. Wes responded with an okay of his own before reading another text, this one was from Jon and were the lines he was expecting. He nodded to Jackson and patted his shoulder. “You should come by the house tomorrow, I’ve got Tilly for the afternoon and you know how much she loves seeing you” With that said, the young actor got to his feet and wandered off to the bathroom.

Locking himself inside the toilet stall, Wes did everything in his power to recall all he could about Paddy Hutchinson. The role had been up in the air for 18 months and bits and pieces of his role within the film and whatnot had been leaked. Wesley needed to understand the character before even reading the lines. Then it struck him, a single part of the casting call that was arguably the most important aspect of the character. It was an aspect that Wes himself possessed. “Family above all”

Walking into meeting room 1, Jon sat awaiting the man behind March and prepared the camera phone. Placing a single hand into his pocket, when the man gave the signal, Wes began. “You’re not being a man. A man provides for his family. And he does it even when he's not appreciated, or respected, or even loved. He simply bears up and he does it. Because he's a man. And he will do this by any means necessary. You are good at what you do Oliver and so am I. We can help each other. We’re practically family and it’s family above all. Let us provide for our family, because we are men and that is what we do. I will not ask you, to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. You have been like my brother since I left prison. You took care of Keela whilst I rebuilt what my father left behind. We are men, we are Hutchinson’s. It’s time to burn them all”

Lucas

“LUKE! LUKE!” The paparazzi called. He never understood why they made such a fuss about him. There were probably about 200 “celebrities” there that night, why did they have to bother him? It’s not like he made great works of art or made your pulses race at the mere sight of him. No, all he did was hit people while wielding a stick on ice. He wasn’t special. He stopped for pictures and to anser some questions but damn if he didn’t want to. “Luke, you were cut from Colorado after punching out your own goalie, can we imagine more of the same when you start in LA next week?” “Well, if the goalie here is a racist bigot too then yeah you can” “Mr LeBlanc, what do you say to the people who think that your nothing more than a glorified goon?” “I just say to people like that…have you seen my slapshot?” After fighting through more questions and photographs, Lucas finally made it into the venue and headed straight for the bar. He took a glance at the black and red haired girl, he recognised her from a magazine he passed earlier that day. “Sirenia St Claire, never thought I’d see you at a function like this” He smiled as the barman handed him a beer. “Looks like we’re sitting together” He pointed out a table about three tables into the room where their names were situated. “Or we could just sit here all night, I don’t particularly mind either way”

Jon sat there as he watched Wes not just give his interpretation of Paddy, but he became Paddy right before his eyes. Jon wasn't thrilled about the camera phone angle, but the audio was crystal clear and the film was rolling. Jon was enthralled with Wes as Paddy and he knew that he found his guy. As sure as Marvel knew they had their Iron Man when Downey Jr auditioned and Nolan knew Bale was his Batman Jon knew he had has Paddy.

When he was done Jon didn't even wait he sent the video to his lawyer Harvey Kirshlight and said to Wes, "Wes you're my guy period end of discussion. I'd rather let the film go unmade than have someone else play the lead. You nailed the character in that one scene it's everything I want. This guy is focused in on his family above all. I got that from you and that is what drives him you picked up on that. This could be a film franchise for you I got no doubt about it."

Just then his phone rang and he saw it was Harv. Jon looked at Wes and said, "You can stay for this." Jon cut on the speaker to his phone and asked, "So do I get my 'you were right and I was wrong to doubt you' or is it gonna be 'You told me so and you were right'? Which one Harv?"

Harv replied, "JT what I saw was brilliant. There is no doubt that Wes has got this character down and was born to play him."

Jon smiled and nodded then Harv said, "Too bad he'll never get the chance."

Jon looked at the phone and asked, "Why?"

Harv said, "Plain and simple Warners wants Depp. They are really playing hardball on this one, and you can't say you'll go to Universal over this. It'll take another 3-6 months to reset everything, and not to mention if you play hard-ball on this project you're gonna hurt your reputation on this one. I have a deal in place for Wes but it's shoddy and full of holes. Warners is gonna force you to play ball with them their way on this one."

Jon looked at Wes for a moment and he shook his head. He pointed to Wes and mouthed "You're my guy."

Jon turned his attention back to the phone and said, "All-right let's make a counter offer."

Harv replied, "Jon you're in a baseball game and you just told your pitcher to go strike out the side blindfolded. What do you got?"

Jon nodded and said, "If they let me have Wes and leave me alone on 'Bound by Blood' then..." Jon took a deep breath and exhaled as he looked to the ceiling and said, "They can have Aquaman. I'll let them have the sequel rights, merchandising, the whole thing they can take my name off of it. Basically I am trading that franchise for this one. I know the studio wanted more input on the sequel, so I'll give them everything on the condition they leave this one alone."

Harv exhaled deeply on the phone and said, "Jon that move will either make or break your career. You are trading a 450 million dollar franchise for a film series that hasn't even shot one frame. Are you sure about this? Because I can tell you if you are Warners will give you what you want on this one."

Jon replied with a great deal of confidence in his voice, "Make it happen Harv. Let's get the ink on the contracts oh and Wes's stipulations they are written in the contract,"

Harv said, "All right JT. I'll call the studios I'll text you later tonight when we'll meet with them. If it falls through I'll call you."

Jon replied, "All-right Harv rock it for me."

Jon ended the call and closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment. He looked at Wes and said, "I believe in you Wes. In the end I made the best deal I could to get this thing off the ground. I'm gonna get I wanted I firmly believe that and I have no regrets."

Jon stood up and said, "Enough business for the night. Let's go have some fun and..." Just then Jon's phone vibrated he pulled it out and then smiled. He looked at Wes and said, "We meet tomorrow morning at 10 am to sign the deal." Jon gave Wes the thumbs up and said, "Let's go have some fun. Not to much though we got a meeting tomorrow morning."

As the young Art walked towards the table, Jonathan mouthed a sincere "Ah, fuck."

You see, both their families had have a "story". On the last decade of his life, Saul had become a sort of controversy magnet. Even though he had the press constantly poking his ass with a cattle prod, he never learned to keep away from them. So during the press tour for his last completed film, Raspberries, Saul was asked about his opinion on the current state of American cinema. Always his sincere self, he spoke his mind. And although his mind decided some young filmmakers like Quentin Tarantino and the Coen Brothers deserved praise, it also decided to insult others; like Edgar Talamantez. That was the birth of a feud between the two men, in which Edgar brought back to the public the alleged killing of an extra on Saul's film The Riddle Song. This ultimately led to Saul's suicide, after which Edgar decided to keep away from the subject until it was forgotten by the press and the general public.

Several years after Saul's passing away on '98, the whole affair was resurrected when Jonathan casted Diego Talamantez (Edgar's son and Art's brother) as the lead for Lonesome Train. The "story" between the two families piggybacked the film through it's festival run, and it seemed like once it received a wide release it would be the indie hit of the year. However, on the time it took to go from being on festivals to get a wide release, another story broke regarding the Talamantez family. For the last several years, the whole pack was stealing from Art; who at that time was making the most money. The courtroom drama that followed proved to be more interesting for the press than the coming together of old enemies. Being fronted by the now publicly hated Diego, Lonesome Train became one of the worst selling films of all times and got taken out of most theaters by the second week.

With all this in mind, Jonathan became very uncomfortable with Art's presence, not knowing what to expect from her. What he didn't have in mind, however, was that during this whole story Art was just too young to know any better, and he they hadn't met personally before. So as Art hugged Wesley, apparently not recognizing him, Jonathan took the kind of breath that really uses the lungs on their maximum potency. Casey offered him a champagne glass, which he dried before the toast got made, and the waiter brought him his Gibson. "Yeah, what he just said", replied Jonathan to Casey's toast. "Also, before I'm to drunk to remember to do so, I'd like to bet $50 that the girl has forgotten how to read because of some Himalayan parasite-thing", he concluded; confident in having read something about brain-damaging worms that lived on cold climates having made their way to California.

Sirenia St. Claire
The rather familiar voice sounded a bit like someone she watched on many 80" televisions or projectors but was surprised to actually be right. A small gasp could be heard from Sirenia as her expression turned aghast for a brief moment at the hockey players comment. "Mr. LeBlanc, I am rather offended you'd think such a thing." Her playfully sarcastic tone then softened as she shrugged and smirked. "Though I could say the same about you."

At first glance one would not assume the tattooed model the type to enjoy sports, and in all honesty she would rather sit through a boring seminar than watch soccer and the like. However, the pierced diva was a fan of "supervised" violence--believe it or not--and enjoyed watching hockey, MMA, and a bit of wrestling every so often but more for the physical confrontations than the game itself. Lucas stays infamous for his brawls thus Sirenia tries not to miss a game when he plays. Perhaps that exact fact could be viewed as a bit shameless but she's not the only one. Casious Mortimer of Serpentine a band she had toured with in the past continues to host massive sports parties, and gambling along with it in his mansion that she still attends to this day. Also, many friends of hers would be jealous if they knew who she is currently speaking to.

"We huh?" She responded with a smile after finishing off her...third vodka? The stuff was basically like water anyway and she still felt completely sober unfortunately. Regardless, the crimson and onyx haired woman was more than content having Lucas at the same table. His craft was something she enjoyed so the charity would not be as painful to sit through like she imagined. The aggressive man was also fascinating to watch especially since he seemed nonchalant about the whole thing, so his personality was bound to be similar making for interesting conversation. "No, we don't have to sit here all night." Her fingers slid the glass toward the bartender for another refill. With new beverage in one hand she motioned with an index finger and an engaging smile for the athletic to follow. They could both talk at the table for a while since she had been trying to locate the damn name card since arriving. "Why are you really here? Damage control or do you have a soft sport for charities? I promise not to tell." One thing that many appreciated or loathed about Sirenia is how blunt she is, refusing to sugar coat anything.

"Brain parasites? If you ask me half the population of Hollywood has something weird up their brain. But you're on."
Casey watched her down another vodka.
"Damn look at those drinks go down, you'd think she'd be in a hurry to get out of here. Either that or she has a liver of steel." Casey mused.
He took another sip from his bourbon, he took his time. "Rushing good alcohol is a waste greater than anything. There's sober little children in Afrika you know?"

The same waiter walked past and Casey quickly halted him with a tug on his apron. He threw a friendly smile the waiters way. "At this rate we are going to need a lot booze, in many small glasses. Bring me a Highlander taste pallet could you?"

"I got to get her in the show at the same time as a big tough guy. My audience would love watching a hot little doll like that drink a lumberjack under the table."

James Kerrington

"James Kerrington?" a voice caught the attention of the man seated by the bar. A waitress had ambled toward him nervously, apparently having been accosted two seconds prior—there was a visible wine stain on her chest that she did her best to cover up with the tray she was holding.

Looking up, James gave her a once over before nodding. "Your father told me to get you. Uh, he said, quote, 'Get my stick in the mud child to stop drowning himself in liquor.' Sorry..." she began profusely apologizing as James gave her another nod, though he couldn't keep his features from further exposing his emotions. As if on cue, he caught his father's smoldering look, of which held a keen smirk directed solely at him. It made his insides burn to the point where the waitress asked if he was okay. He quickly blamed it on the alcohol and reluctantly left, giving the girl a tip for inadvertently stepping on the landmine that was his family.

Apparently, he'd caught his mother in the middle of a rant, to which his father waved off as her finding a way to bide her time. Sitting down, his eyes wandered to the last remaining seats between him and his father, suddenly dreading the fact that neither of his parents decided to fill up the spots with their airhead 'friends' just to keep things private. Not for their sake, of course, but for his. If there was one thing he hated, it was being compared to the two people who supposedly raised him. He could only imagine the perpetual scowl of the latecomers at the highfalutin talk of the people that now occupied the table. Of a prenuptial right in the face of a husband of only two years who probably had more 'mistresses' than wives and more wives than James had fingers. This was their business talk, talk that James abhorred beyond comprehension. And at a fundraiser for cancer, too.

Leaning over, he finally addressed his father's hard stare with a glare of his own. "When is this over?"

"Can't wait to get back to work?" Thomas goaded, beaming at him.

James paused, a deep frown forming, "Father..."

"Did you get a tan while you were there?"

"When?"

"Humor me for a second, son."

James glared deeply at his father, leaning back in his seat as he clenched his thigh under the table. "So, how long have you and... what's her face been married?"

"Lily Anne," the woman shot him a cold glare as she spat.

"Sorry," James apologized, rolling his eyes as he downed his mother's drink. He carefully watched as his father laughed, a hint of agitation seeping through that he relished quietly whilst his eyes wandered off.

At this moment during the fundraiser, he was blatantly staring at the people that gathered in the room, eyeing some of the celebrities as he scoped the room for the two missing attendees. He'd passed two people just a second ago—looking back, he spotted Serenia and another male who seemingly just arrived not too far and possibly heading their way. Squinting really hard, he could barely make out who the other person was, a Lucas. Someone who he hadn't heard much of past a few quips here and there about some brutal hockey player and a few magazine covers with his face on it. James wasn't a very sports intensive guy, so he quickly scanned over him, and settled his eyes on a nearby table where a largish crowd had gathered.

Sadly, he was only ever in the spotlight because of his parents and their past antics, so James was only famous by consequence. Of course, he was either busy or reclusive and didn't quite parade around with movie stars or anything of the like. But, he'd sold a numerous mansion to an abundant amount of people, most of which were seated at that particular table and few sprinkled around the area. There weren't many politicians, though, and those were usually the people he'd sold out of country, beach estates to. That inner thought caused a suppressed chuckle to slip from James' lips, to which his mother gave him an arched brow in response as she reached over him to grab more wine from a wandering waiter.

---

Daniel Reinhardt

He learned long ago that running late to an event did not excuse one from the copious amount of paparazzi that swarmed the door. Apparently, they waited the entire event, beginning to end, to get every picture they could of the passing stars. This meant the late arrivals couldn't escape their fierce determination to capture every moment of every second of every celebrities life on camera. Daniel was no exception, especially as a quarterback and especially as a famous one. The range of pictures varied from person to person, he, unfortunately, got some of the most blinding flashes as he passed by, quickly fixing his suit in the rush, not even stopping for the reporter by the door who promptly called his name as he passed by. Though, he did utter a quick apology before nearly tripping over a decorative tree.

This was it, fundraiser number who knows. Having been raised in the middle of nowhere, it was still a shock to him to see so many A-listers, rising stars, stars of any caliber packed in one room. But, cancer, animal abuse, LGBT something or other, whatever was posted overhead usually didn't mean much but a name to plaster themselves onto and cling for publicity. However, Daniel was adamant about giving to charities and going to fundraisers he supported and felt wholehearted about. This one, he'd nearly lost a baby sister to and soon a mother, so it hit home and the amount of people putting on personas and throwing money around just so they could be seen as a 'could person' brought a large scowl on his features. Not only that, but there was so much gossip going around that it would put a high school Prom to shame, it put his damn locker room to shame and those men talked so much shit it wasn't even funny.

Most of all, though, Daniel felt at odds and almost like he didn't belong where he was. The feeling was enough to immediately turn toward the bar, nearly hitting a young lady on the way. Steadying her, he flashed a smile and an apology before sitting down by a lonely looking fellow apparently talking to the bartender. Looking back, he immediately noticed the figure he bumped into, a girl who could probably relate to what he was currently feeling. Or not... she did look a bit... alternative. Sighing, though, Daniel ordered a water and gave the man next to him a smile.

"So, uh," he started, scratching the back of his head as he let his eyes wander, "what do you do? Director? Actor?"

Joe Bernard

After greeting his manager, Joe went to the bar. "Hey, gimme a Pepsi." Said Joe to the waiter. As the waiter handed over an empty glass to Joe and then filled it with the contents of a glass bottle of Pepsi, Joe was greeted, to his utmost surprise, by the man he took the UFC Middleweight title from, John Barnes. "Hey there Joe! Somehow I never imagined you in a place like this drinking Pepsi." Said Barnes who patted Joe ion the back and then the two shook their hands as Joe had a smile on his face and was visibly surprised. "I never imagined myself in a place like this drinking Pepsi either. To be honest with you i'll pick a training gym over this place anytime." Said Joe who paused and took a sip from his glass of Pepsi.

"But I had to come man! Because of two reasons. One. I was invited and it's rude not to honor an invitation. And two. I had issues with cancer in my family as well. Two of my relatives, aunt and grandmother. My aunt survived, but my grandmother was too old and weak to fight such a dreadfull disease. You had no idea how much it hurt me seeing them die slowly and very painfuly. But enough of that...I'm getting sensitive here. Tell me about you. What have you been doing since you retired." Said Joe after a short moment of sensitivity from him. One of few that will ever be seen at him.

"Well first off! Retirement sucks! And to answer your question, I returned to Minneapolis and opened up a gym there. Now i'm a certified MMA coach." Said Barnes as happiness could be seen on his face. "Yeah, you're doing good I can see that from the look on your face." Said Joe smiling and sipping from his glass of Pepsi. "A photo please!" Said a photograher as Joe and John sat one next to each other and they both delivered a thumbs up as the photographer took a picture of them together. "And another one please!" He said as he took another picture of the two. "Thank you!" He said as he checked his camera and walked away.

"Well Mr. John Barnes it was good to see you again. And good luck!" Said Joe as he and Branes gave themselves a firm handshake. "Thanks Joe. You too. I'll be keeping an eye on you. Keep winning them fights okay." Said Barnes as he walked away. Joe looked at him and took another sip of his Pepsi as he started looking for his manager, Max. Barnes' mention of the word fight remainded Joe of something.

---

Maxwell Terry

After greeting his fighter, Max started wandering through the place and admiring it. After shaking hands with some people he grabbed a glass of wine from a wandering waiter. Which was quite ironic because a couple of moments ago he warned Joe not to drink alcohol because he was driving but he himself came at this event with is car. Anyway, Max was a common sight at such events. He was extremely appreciated by the media for his open pockets, his kindnesss, and for the fact that he loved giving away money to charity. After having some pictures taken of him Max's cellphone started ringing. He imidieatly goes to a quieter place and answers the call.

"Yes! Really? I understand. Thank you! Yeah! I'll let him know. Good night." Said Max as he closed his cellphone and went back to where everybody was, drank his glass of wine, placed the empty glass on a waiter's plate and started looking for Joe. The call was regarding Joe's next oponent. Then he remembered that Joe went to the bar so he went in that direction as well.

Wes
Wes ran a hand through his short dark hair and let out a massive sigh. Jon was risking a hell of a lot for him at this point. Wes knew that this film, Bound by Blood was Jon’s baby. These two men were not friends, they had no prior relationship up until their meeting tonight and yet one was jeopardising his career for the other. “Thank you, Jon. I won’t let you down” Re-entering the main room, Wes was able to perceive that Jen had yet to arrive and at this point he doubted she was coming. He pulled put his cell and quickly sent her a text. “Got a meeting at 10 2morro. Will pick Tilly up right after” He hoped she would be ok with that. Jen was usually understanding of these kinds of things so he wasn’t too worried but all the same, the gut feeling that he was doing something wrong was still there.

Luke
“Damage control or do I like charities?...Can I say a little bit of both” The brute grinned playfully at the pierced beauty. “I tend to donate to charity anyway but my agent and my coach both think it would be beneficial for me to show a face at a shindig…Plus its free beer and free food. As much money as I make, I can never turn down something free” Lucas pulled out the chair for Sirenia to sit on and then took his own seat next to her. He noted another athlete arriving at the club, a Quarterack for the San Diego Chargers by the name of Daniel Reinhardt. He had met him once or twice at sporting gatherings but hadn’t really made any sort of connection with him. “I’ll be honest, once the key note speaker has done his thing, I’m pretty much gonna down a couple of beers, sneak out the back door and lose my weekend before training starts on Monday. Pray tell Miss St Claire, what are your plans?”

Sirenia St. Claire
A handsome stranger nearly collided into the metal songstress but the gentleman quickly corrected the near accident before things took a turn for the worse. She had almost kissed the ground twice this charity due to similar instances but fortunately she did not mind or make a dramatic scene like most snotty celebrities would. If she could make it home without almost twisting an ankle in a misstep at least once wearing these platforms, only then would she believe in miracles. It was normal to see women accidentally stumbling in heels this high at modeling events but she had not landed on her backside in years. She had worn worse shoes than this during alternative modeling sessions, ones so restricting and completely vertical like a ballet dancer en pointe. Foot aches are a normal occurrence that she learned to deal with a while ago. The things women do to look a certain way she painfully thought.

“Why thank you kind Sir.” She responded when Lucas pulled the chair out. After sitting both hands were placed on her latex lap delicately. She upheld an air of elegance even amidst the fiery two-toned hair and bold appearance. Instead of her signature blackened eye shadow, a softer shade for this event was applied in a silvery smokey effect. Regardless, most would think the web-starlet wore too much anyway.

She slightly leaned toward Lucas as he talked and crossed her leg toward him, clearly interested in what he had to say. A slight smirk remained on her rose red stained lips as he confessed his reasons for being here. The hockey player did not shoot her a bullshit premeditated reply but was honest and she appreciated it. Even amongst other celebrities hardly anyone acted like themselves, and even Sirenia put on a show every now and again.

“Well, I usually take a long bath after these sorts of gigs and drink champagne but alas, I was invited to an after party by Frank Mullen of Suffocation. There will be beer, among other things, and the atmosphere is much more welcoming than here. There are no paparazzi and the most exhilarating part is that everything is free—if you show up with the right person of course. I would invite you, but you already seem to have plans.” Her hand could be seen rotating the glass holding what little vodka remained while she nearly pouted in disappointment. “A shame really, I would have loved a reason to escape early and go somewhere else—or not.” She shrugged her shoulders wearing an impish smirk leaving an invitation and the decision up to him. A woman like her always had a backup plan when throwing all her cards on the table, and dare not risk looking like a complete fool if rejected. Even though her words were cryptic she really did want to get to know him better but there were many things she desired, which were out of reach.

Jon watched as Wes walked away and a couple of others came up to him and Jon was cordial to them as he began to sip on a Gin & Tonic. However in the back of his mind he remembered the time in college when he stood his ground. It almost backfired and nearly cost him everything in a class that was crucial for him in terms of graduating.

Her name was Penelope Rogers and she had the talent to make it in show business. She was beautiful and charming on every level, sadly though Penelope had one fatal flaw. All it took was one drink and she was 180 degrees from beautiful and charming. Jon was in a theater group and everyone warned him about Penelope in that she was high risk high reward. This was a project everyone needed to do well on in order to graduate and that playing it safe was what was called for. Jon though dug in and fought for Penelope and eventually they went along with him.. Penelope was everything everyone wanted in a colleague. She was on time, ready to go, and took direction without an issue.

Then came the night of the performance and Penelope was no where to be seen. Until about five minutes before the project was due to start and she showed up; bombed out of her skull. If she went on stage in that condition Jon and company were dead in the water. Luckily for them Jon had talked to the Stage Manager and got her to read up on Penelope's part, and he worked with her privately as an understood. Mary Taylor pulled off the part brilliantly and saved everyone's grade. If it wasn't for that they all would've failed because they were responsible for each other's conduct.

Wes had a reputation as being a rather extreme method actor, and at times being semi-unpredictable as result. That was one of the unwritten rules of why people shied away from working with him. Jon though felt there was a brilliance to his madness and Paddy was the part to catapult from working/well-known actor to bankable superstar. Where Jon really saw this brilliance he couldn't pin-point it, but Jon could feel it as though it were a tangible item. He watched Wes and then walked away outside to the pool area.

He finished his drink and put the glass out on a table. Jon took a long look at the pool and finally he said, "Springsteen is right. It takes a leap of faith to get things going." Jon smiled broadly, put his phone and wallet under a rock behind some bushes, and full dress he executed a perfect head first dive.

Nick turned to look at the man who had spoken to him. Even though he only paid attention to football when the Bears were doing well, he instantly recognized the man as Daniel Reinhardt. For someone who spent so much time avoiding the press, there was a seemingly endless amount of stories seeking to explain exactly who he was. The sports media could never quite decide if Daniel was a reluctant superstar, a man wanting a simple life thrust onto the world stage, or a someone whose life was so consumed by practice and hard work that he never had time for basic things like giving an interview on SportsCenter. It was strange to be meeting him in person, but at least Nick wasn't invested enough in football to care that much. "I'm a writer. Name's Nicholas Irving, wrote a couple books that sold well. I have no idea how that qualifies me to be here with people like you, but I figure I'll at least dip my toes into the water of the famous while I'm still welcome. While you're here, anything you want to say to a member of the press that doesn't write for a sports website?" Nick sipped his beer while he waited for an answer.

Lucas

“Miss St Claire…” Luke polished off what was left of his beer during the pause and turned his light hazel eyes to her. “…if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were flirting with me” This girl was definitely intriguing. She certainly wasn’t the Canadian’s usual type but then again, he had never really considered himself to have a type. “If the invitation is still open…I wouldn’t mind losing a weekend with you Sirenia. I could do with the escape. So how about it? When the key note is over, we’ll get out of here” The enforce for the Kings wasn’t going to hide his intentions through cryptic words like her but that didn’t stop him from enjoying her company. She was interesting, a dichotomy of varying stereotypes which she blew out of the water. Spending an evening with her would certainly be a unique experience and what the hell? Luke would try anything once.

The keynote speaker got up to his podium, he was nobody special. A boring, uncharismatic looking man who monotonously read out word for word from a teleprompter some run of the mill speech about cancer and how if people like those in the room used their vast influence and dollars they could help the less fortunate who suffer from some variation of the disease. It was easy to see he was boring the crowd to sleep. He had paused for but a moment when there was a large splash.

Luke turned his head, as did the entire crowd as they watched a man surface from the pool fully clothed after diving in. The hockey player turned to the woman at his side. “Now’s our chance, do you want to escape with me?”

DAY MOVE

It was about 7:30 am as Jon was awakened by a phone call from his agent Harv. Jon didn't even need to look at the ID as he picked up the phone and said, "Yes Harv I was stone cold sober when I jumped in the pool last night. From what I understand it was the highlight of the party too."

Harv asked, "Just what were you thinking when you did it?"

Jon replied, "That the smell of chlorine and other pool chemicals was sadly lacking in my tux It was bit on the cold side but very refreshing otherwise." Jon chuckled at that and so did Harv who said, "Well Jon I hate to throw more cold water on you, but I got the contract from Warners last night concerning 'Bound By Blood' it's not good Jon."

Jon sat up in bed and said, "Explain not good to me Harv."

Harv replied with a deep breath, "Jon they have so many clauses and loop holes in it that they can pull the plug at any second on the whole project. I've looked it over with my legal team and we say this contract is a death warrant to this project. They still get 'Aquaman' and you get a project that can be shut down at a second's notice for just about any reason. I've moved Heaven & Earth for this deal Jon and I hate it."

Jon shook his head and said, "They're trying to sabotage this thing anyway they can."

Harv replied, "Sabotage? Jon they're trying to avoid this thing ever seeing the light of day. In my opinion this leads back to Wes. I showed everyone involved in terms of cast, writers, directors and they love him. Hopkins texted me three words; 'That's my son!" Mirren called me and said, 'Let's film it now.' The studio didn't like the fact that you held your ground on this and pretty much showed them up with 'Aquaman'. However we are not out of options."

Jon said, "Harv burning Warners to the ground is not an option. As tempting as it is."

Harv chuckled and replied, "Let's keep that option on the table. No I contacted all the key principals in the cast and crew and they are on board with a six week delay. While Universal gets everything up and going."

Jon said, "Universal? Six weeks? Harv it's going to take at least three months to get it all together if not longer."

Harv replied, "Not really. They have a lot of equipment and sets that can be retrofited our crew has already made that clear. Universal is willing to give us 50 million more in the budget, with the budget increasing by 25 million more for the next two. They are committed to this franchise, and for you they want 4 more pictures from you alone. Not to mention they want you to develop and shepherd their next franchise. They know sooner or later 'The Fast & The Furious' & 'Bourne' franchises will start to fade out, and they want the next one ready to go."

Jon asked, "What franchise?"

Harv replied, "Flash Gordon. They want you to be the Godfather of this franchise. They saw what you did with 'Aquaman' and they loved it."

Jon shook his head and asked, "Have you seen the contract?"

Harv replied, "Seen it? I'm holding it in my hands, and when we're done talking I may hang it on my wall and sacrifice a virgin to it. This contract Jon is what every agent and manger dreams of. Since Wes is not officially he doesn't have input technically. However knowing what you went through to make this happen with him; I'm gonna leave that call with you."

Jon said, "All-right tell Warners they lost this franchise and call Universal tell 'em they won. Let me get dressed and I'll get in touch with Wes's agent."

Jon hung up the phone and called Wes's agent and told him to have him call Jon, and that this was an emergency situation.

Jen was settled in the nursery with Tilly when she heard a soft knock on the door. She'd admitted defeat and sent the babysitter home a couple of hours ago when Tilly had decided she wasn't going to settle without her momma, and it had taken hours for Jen to even get her to settle and sit still. They were currently snuggled in her Rocking chair, bundled in a blanket and drifting to sleep as her mother sang softly to her, but as the door knocked, she stirred. Sighing softly, Jen pushed herself up from the rocker, cradling her now alert daughter on her hip, making her way to the front door. Her hand reached to open it as a yawn escaped her lips. She was dressed comfortably, in a pair of sweatpants and one of Wes' old hoodies, with one of his favourite sports teams on, her hair loose down her back. She recognised his figure as the door opened, and smiled, automatically moving to hand him their daughter. "Here, she's just drifting off. You'll be able to put her down. Daddy's the baby whisperer after all" She spoke softly, and stepped aside to let them into the house.

"Hey baby girl, hey" Wes pulled his daughter into his arms as she reached out with her little ones. "Come on, let's go put you to beddy bye's and momma can relax with a glass of wine huh? Yeah, let's go dream" He smiled to Jen before ascending the stairs and went into the nursery. With Tilly nestled in a nice bundle, Wes spoke softly to her. In the two years since her birth, he had never told Jen his little secret to getting her to sleep, it was their thing. Once his child's little eyes were closed, the actor laid her down and kissed her forehead before descending the stairs, making sure to leave the landing light on just in case. He entered the living room and took off his jacket. "Hi" He smiled to his ex.

Once Wes returned downstairs to her living room, she shuffled over on her couch, leaving room for him beside her, patting the space next to her. Once he'd settled down beside her, she tucked herself under his arm, placing her wine glass on the floor infront of her. She snuggled into his chest and let out a soft yawn. "When're you gonna tell me your little secret to get her to sleep? She wasn't having any of it tonight. She screamed when I tried to sing her one of my new songs. She's so stubborn" A soft chuckle escaped her lips, her eyes closing softly as she curled her legs up with her. They may not be in a relationship anymore, but they were still best friends, and cuddling once Tilly was asleep was a regular occurance, especially when Jen was exhausted.

"The secret is....I just monotonously read her a script. Bores her right to sleep" He laughed softly as he began stroking her hair. "She gets that stubbornness from you, you know?" I dread to think what she'll be like as a teenager" Wes wanted Jen back, he made no secret of it. He wanted the three of them to be a family again but he was well aware that it was far away from happening. "You didn't miss much tonight, same old stuff. Lot people covering up their dirty secrets with a veil of charity. Though I did meet someone interesting, they offered me a part in their next movie but apparently the studio doesn't see me as bankable. We're meeting tomorrow but I can still pick up Tilly usual time"

"Mmm, I know. That's when she gets to go spend more time at her dad's" Jen grinned playfully, relaxing a little at his fingers running throughout her hair. "I was more than prepared to come, but someone had other ideas. She's a night owl like her daddy. At least I get a lay in in the morning" She chuckled softly, her body tucking against him just a little more. "I have a recording session tomorrow afternoon, so it works for me. If you reading a script puts her to sleep, I'm sure she'll catch up with her sleep tomorrow" A smile curled over her lips, nudging him softly with her fingertips against his ribs.

"All my meetings are first thing, So I'll be done and dusted to take her out of your hair no problem, we'll head to that new park they just finished building for the afternoon and then you wanna swing by my place after you're recording session?" He loved it when they were like this, it was like nothing has changed. "You're not wrong, I've got a load of scripts on my table at the moment. That said, this movie I'm going to see about tomorrow, it's a big movie Jen. They want me for the lead but the studio don't. They want Depp or Downey Jr not a tv guy like me"

"Take your time, I don't have to be anywhere till about 1. They know not to schedule anything too early, or I won't co-operate well." She chuckled softly, nudging her forehead against his cheek softly. "If you're meant to get it, you'll get it, it'll be fate" She could feel the tension between the two of them. It was odd for them to just talk about work and Tilly, but there was so much left unsaid between the two of them, it wasn't easy for them to talk about much else.

"I should probably go, you should try and get some sleep before she wakes up because you know she will" Wes kissed the top of Jen's head and unwrapped his arm from her body. Getting to his feet, being careful not to knock over her glass of wine he picked up his jacket. "I'll see you tomorrow babe, ok?" He turned and left somewhat quickly.

"Mm, I know. She's a pain, but I love her." She smiled softly as he stood, and tried not to notice the half of her body that had grown cold from him moving from her side. "See you tomorrow, Darlin' " Her frown soon faded as she heard the door shut, picking up her wine glass with a soft sigh. She made her way up to bed and undressed, settling into bed, willing sleep to take her.

Casey sat in his front yard, there was a large driveway, fountain and an ironic white picket fence. This was the first time he took the time to sit in the garden and do nothing. He hadn't seen any of his neighbors outside but it was early, and they might have hangovers. Casey chuckled, he'd never had a hangover before in his life. Not something he'd brag about, plenty of people will think you are a lightweight. A bright purple and heavily modified pickup truck rode up on the driveway while blasting Jen McCleary at 11 volume.

Out came Travis and Dale Tin.
"Welcome to my home brothers!" Casey yelled at them, glad they finally arrived. "I see y'all spendin my money well! Howdo?"
"You gave us that cash, good to see ya little bro." Travis replied as he got out of the car.
"Yeah it's ourn dollars to spend rite?" Dale chimed in.
"It's mum's money, I send it to mum. Where is she then if not with you?"
"Jamie done dropped her off at a luxury resort."
"Well 'aight, as long as she's happy then."
"Dont'cha worry lil' bro." Dale, had been fidgeting with a control panel in his truck.
"But right now you got to check this out!"
The music turned up and the covered hood over the back of the truck opened up. A large inflatable wall grew out of it and unfolded to the side of the truck. On the wall a screen appeared, the video clip matching the song was displayed on the giant screen with a beamer hidden in the huge air mattress.. When the pumps finally died down Dale turned the music back down. "Well?" he said proudly.
"Dayum.. Money well spent!" Casey was impressed.

A few minutes later the three brothers sat on a large couch they moved out on the front lawn, playing Left4Dead2 on the big screen while drinking beers from a kiddy pool filled with ice.
"Found some medkits 'ere. So whazit like round here?"
"I done told you before, they all wear the nicest masks"
"So they'all hidin somethin?
"Nah, 's more complicated than that I recon. They're all in the business of being liked, so they spend a lot o' effort in their 'pearance 'n person"
"And you don't? Oh, shit charger!"
"Got 'im. Ash says I have 'rural charm' whatever that is."
"Still have that agent Cas? Figured you'd be on yer own by now. Cain't believe ya still need 'er."
"Ya'now me Trav, I couldn't manage my way out of a paper bag. She deals with all the borin stuff for me."
"Why dont'cha invite 'er over then? We need a 4th anyhow."
"So you can hit on 'er all day? I like my agent enough to not unleash my big brother on 'er Dale."
"Yeah whatever lil' bro I done recon I - shit witch!"
"Throwing a molotov!"

Sirenia & Lucas.
"Sounds like a date then." A warm smile appeared on her rose tinted lips before she gave her attention to the speech-giver. The man reading the dull dialect seemed to be boring even himself but thankfully a ruckus near the pool pulled everyone's eyes toward that direction. Lucas' words to make a get-a-way sounded too tempting to refuse, and just what she was thinking. “Love to.” She smirked and took his hand within her own leading them to the private exit where paparazzi were not allowed to dwell.

---

Morning rays of light illuminated through the modern glass mansion warming the blocky cold structure. Some of the first floor’s top to bottom glass walls were open allowing fresh air to flow through. Another day survived in sunny Hollywood no less—everyone deserved a pat on the back for lasting here. Among the spacious open plan living room a dainty fresh faced woman sat on a plush sectional sofa pretzel legged. Her fingers searched for the marshmallow pieces from a box of Lucky Charms to eat. Nearsighted hazel hues were watching the news behind slim black frame glasses but in the corner of the 70 inch tv a PIP played FUNimation. Sirenia had already showered and wore her damp two toned hair pulled up into a messy bun atop her head. Even though little make up adorned her face, perfectly drawn in eyebrows per usual could be seen. She remained in an over-sized sleep shirt with bare legs covered by a faux fur blanket, completely relaxed and carefree. No one would have guessed she spent the entire previous night drinking, body surfing at a concert, and enjoying Lucas's company since she appeared bright eyed and perfectly aware.

Numerous text messages lit up her phone from last nights after events this morning. Her friends had welcomed the athlete with open arms and many beers to his heart’s content. They seemed to approve of Lucas like she figured they would. The atmospheres at those types of gatherings were rowdy yet extremely friendly like a bizarre long lost family. Though Sirenia’s ex Michael McNeiland unexpectedly showed up at the last minute, the mismatched duo politely excused themselves before he could awkwardly greet them. A flood of messages were also received after updating her website but she made sure to leave out the random night with the hockey star. Not the type of woman to kiss and tell but most of all she respected other people’s privacy as well. Her fans would have been blind sighted most likely, and not known how to take the information of the two spending time together.

---

Lucas's opened his green eyes to a mismatched taste, the dryness of a mouth that had hit the bottle hard the night before and the sweetness of a lipstick. He pulled himself up from the bed, a nice décor surrounded him. Certainly wasn't his house. Heated floors, a nice tough. He walked across the room to what he assumed was the master bathroom and cleaned up his face. After a couple or swigs of tap water to rehydrate himself, Luke pulled on his clothes, which were scattered across the room. Folding his once clean jacket up into his arms, he left the bedroom and descended the stairs. Sure as the sky was blue, there in the large living room, Sirenia sat watching tv. Lucas cracked his stiff neck and walked up to the couch where she lay. "Morning" He smiled softly before taking a seat at the bottom of the plush suite. "So before we enter any awkward morning after talks, I want to say thank you. You taking me in for the night probably stopped me from having my face all over the news today or from waking up in a holding cell. So thanks for that. I had a really great night. So, awkward morning after talks, you first, go!"

---

She watched Lucas casually stroll toward the sofa and sit down upon it while she crunched on a rainbow shaped marshmallow. “Good morrow” She impishly replied as her French manicured fingers popped another marshmallow into her mouth. She could not help but smirk at his humorous words and was a bit taken aback by the rest of his dialogue. His speech about appreciating how she had let him crash at her place for the night was amusing…perhaps he was a true gentleman after all. Receiving thanks for saving someone from them self was a first for her but hopefully not the last. Sirenia simply nodded in acknowledgement because it was really no big deal, and she had enjoyed the eventful night. As far as awkward morning after talks, well, she felt pretty un-awkward in this moment. On top of bliss she felt a bit surprised that he had not come up with an excuse to immediately take off—he deserved a treat.

“This should tide you over while I mix up some dark chocolate waffles.” She handed him the box of cereal, and then hopped up to head into the modern stainless steel kitchen…she never made food for herself let alone a guest. This would be interesting.

Natalie liked it when she was recognized, and people asked her for her autograph or a picture, because fame's awesome, and having strangers that excited to see you is something she'll never take for granted, but just now, a guy has come up to her and shouted "I know you!" and then followed it by a pause, clearly showing that he didn't know her, he just recognized her face from somewhere. She'd never take fans for granted, but honestly, fuck this guy.

"I'm NE1," she said wearily.

"Oh, yeah!" he said in that long, drawn out, awkard way. And then he said "I don't really like rap, but...yeah. Keep up the good work."

She stuck her middle finger up at him as he walked away. She was going to be angry about this for hours. As she walked along Hollywood Road, back to her home, lyrics started forming in her head, word and rhymes connecting like pieces in a puzzle, their motion fueled by her current bad mood. It was a nice, harmless way to relieve stress.

Not the type of bitch to rob a bank but I'd be sitting at the back, unseen and unheard.
There's a robbery going on, but I'm too busy playing Angry Birds.
An old lady get's a shell to the face, and I'm totally shocked!
Shocked at app prices! Whoever charged this much should be fucking shot!

Natalie laughs to herself. She was a horrible person sometimes.

The charity event had been a snore and Art was quick to leave with Jackson, making no move to be subtle about it. The two had both stood during the keynote speaker going on about the woes of cancer, gathering a fee others and leaving without donating. Which definitely started a storm with the media. They headed out through the night to various hospitals, putting a smile on the faces of the patients. They didn't end their spree until nearly three in the morning. But Art managed to still get up at five in the morning for yoga. She had her manager, who also happened to be one of her adoptive mothers, to send out a few checks. After, she slipped into a simple black tanktop and a pair of daisy dukes to meet with Wes. Nowhere fancy, just her favorite spot on the beach. Fans never found the spot. She waited for Wes there when she arrived, letting the waves lap against her feet.

Pulling up in the deserted car park, Wes reached over to his passenger seat and grabbed the two brown paper bags with one hand and the 2go drinks with the other. He climbed out of his car, dressed simply in some three quarter length jeans and a form fitting red V-neck. He still had about two hours until his meeting with Jon so he had plenty of time to catch up with Art. He squinted his dark eyes and there she was in the distance. Wes made his way across the hot sand where Art sat waiting for him right by the ocean. "Breakfast m'lady" He handed her one of the bags and a cup. "Just how you like it" The actor smiled before taking a seat next to her. "So what's going on, honey? Anything new?"

The Latina grinned and graciously took the brown bag and pulled out the first thing she touched: A whole wheat bagel covered with organic cream cheese. She took a bite with closed eyes before washing it down with the caramel mocha cappuccino in the cup. “You know me all too well,” she laughed before leaning back a bit, digging her toes into the wet sand. “I've been good. Expecting another litter of pups. I think Racks might be pregnant too.” She was proud to announce it. “Working on a new film project too. With Disney.”

"Another litter of pups huh? You're house is going to be crawling with them soon. Might have to buy one from you for Tilly" The Englishman laughed before taking a bit of his own breakfast. "Disney film? Well if for nothing else you'll get paid really well, whatever the role" Wes took another bite from his bagel. "I've got something lined up too, hopefully. The lead in a crime epic, The studio don't want me because I'm not bankable. The director really wants me and he's willing to sacrifice another series just to have me. It's all a little overwhelming if I'm honest. Plus if I do get it, I don't know how long I'll be away filming and I don't want to leave my baby girl for too long"

“Definitely going to give one to Tilly. I know she just adores them when she comes over.” She offered him a smile and sat back up. “Directing, producing, and starring. Definitely making bank!” Art squealed in delight before taking the time to listen to Wes fill her in on his new project, giving a nod. “Sounds like a huge deal. I'm sure you'll rock it though. Maybe get an Oscar for it. You know antiheroes and villains are in this year.” She gave him a reassuring pat on the back, leaning against him. “I'm talking with Joss Whedon and Stan Lee for a Marvel project soon if you want in. I'm sure Tilly would love to see you on the big screen as a superhero. We could even try to get Jen to let her star!” She tried to brighten the moment a bit.

"An Oscar huh? Don't be jinxing me Arty, I haven't even gotten the part yet!" Wes let out a light laugh. "We'll see. I look good in a suit but spandex? Not too sure about that. Besides, as easy going as Jen can be, I don't think she'd let our baby girl anywhere near a film set" He knew Art was trying to lighten things up. It's pretty much what she had done since their friendship started. Wes was way too serious all the time. "So what's going on with Jackson, you told him you're in love with him yet?"

"Jinxing? Nah. You've got good karma, bonbon." Art had no doubt that her friend would land the role he was aiming for. With Jon so persistent about it and Wes' raw talent, there wasn't a way that he would lose. Directors tended to get what they wanted and often overruled the casting company and the casting director's choices when they really wanted someone. All those two boys needed to worry about was making sure nobody would leave because of Wes working with them. She didn't think it'd happen though, thinking about it as she switched between her bagel and drink. "Spandex is awesome," she snickered. Her laugh soon caught in her throat as he teased her about their other best friend, her tan face turning bright red. "I'm not in love with Jax! Why does everyone keep saying that? Did you start that damn ship?!"

"Damn right I started that ship. I've seen the way you look at him, its bloody obvious woman!" Wes polished off his breakfast and took a sip from his drink. "Sorry honey, I've got to go. My meeting is soon so I got to go get myself ready" He gave Art a hug and a peck on the cheek before standing up from the warm sand. "We'll catch up again soon ok? Take care of yourself love" He turned and walked across the beach and back to his car to prepare himself for his meeting with Jon.

Wes
After breakfast on the beach with Art, Wes climbed into his car just in time for his waiting cell phone to go off. Picking it up, he scanned the caller ID. It was his agent and good friend Emily Hawthorne.

“Hey Em, what’s the…” Before the Brit could even finish his sentence, the bright eyed beauty immediately interjected herself. “Wes, you need to get in touch with Jon Templeton ASAP. And by ASAP I mean as soon as I hang up this phone. There is currently a shit storm heading our way. Warners don’t want you for Bound By Blood and Universal are willing to buy the film and you providing Jon does them a solid. If this deal falls flat we’re both fucked” Wes couldn’t help but laugh as he often did when talking to Emily. “For such a pretty girl you haven’t half got a foul mouth, Em.” “REALLY! Jokes Wes? You’re an idiot. A loveable one but an idiot. Call him. Send Jen and Tilly my love” The phone went dead after Wes said his goodbye. Quickly he dialled the number Jon had given him yesterday. “Jon? Wes Reed, heard you wanted to talk?”

Lucas
“Dark chocolate waffles? I’m all about it” Luke watched as Sirenia made a move into the kitchen. He began tucking into the cereal she had given him. He’d eat a whole load of crap today and get back to work outs, weight training etc in the morning. This day had already became a pleasant surprise, there was a lot more to Miss St Claire than her unique appearance dictates. Reaching over, Luke grabbed the remote and switched over to sports. For one of the first times in the last few months, the face of one Lucas LeBlanc wasn’t plastered all over it…oh speak to soon. The reporters were talking about the LA Kings upcoming game and how Luke’s quick feet and violent temperament may be a big factor in the game. What a bunch of shit.