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Name:
Vyacheslav Piotr Zolnerowich-Wahlstein
Alias:
Peter Zolner, Chevy, Pete
Gender:
Male
Age:
41
Position:
Producer - Money isn't an issue and, as an amicable person, he's not one to step on any toes during, before, and after production. His job is to be involved and fueling the production with ideas, money, and to push it in a good, solid direction, no problems, no issues, no complaints. Right? Right...?

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Appearance:
A timid, lean individual (5'6";168 lbs) with a surprising musculature for a man of his size and personality, of which is usually hidden. Many people mistake him for someone who's a tad on the pudgy side, though that's far from the case—he's somehow avoided any scenes that would require him to strip down from his obtrusive amount of clothing. He's not a top athlete by any means, but he does his best to stay healthy and fit, and is often driven to do so out of stress—he gets stressed a lot. Often in appropriately layered garments, in respect to the climate, Peter isn't a confident looking individual and it shows in the way he carries and dresses himself. Everything's in layers and hardly any of himself shows minus the appropriate hands and head. And, despite his age, has a full head of completely grey hair that he simply lost all care for, in terms of color. With a face that's mostly frowning, it's hard to tell if he's in a good or bad mood and it's even harder to tell if he hates your guts or not. There's no one who looks more timid, yet unapproachable than Peter; his cold, blue-eyed gaze is usually turned on himself and his feet, whilst he does his damn hardest to blend into the background. Out of everyone in Hollywood, Peter has the most obvious nervous tick, in which he fiercely chews his bottom lip, avoids any eye contact to an infuriating degree, as well as wrings his hands and wrists until they're red and burning.

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Personality:
"I'm a man who's been the butt of every joke. Who's been ridiculed and humiliated all his life. I'm a man who has the gall to silently stand by as his wife takes the one thing he loves away from him. I'm a man who's recently understood the meaning of desolation and turmoil and I hate it with every ounce of my being. There's only one thing I'd fight tooth and nail for and that's not myself—that opportunity is long gone. But, just because I've lost the will to live for myself doesn't mean I'll just lie down and die like the world wants me to. It's far from over."

Timid is an understatement.

There's no one quite as soft spoken and quiet as Peter, but what's so great about him is his ability to entirely wash away any notion of his terribly obvious lack of confidence when taking on a role. Peter is a man of various talents (mostly geared toward acting, though some sprinkles of finance and business due to his upbringing), but such a humble personality it's almost shameful; however, he's more often taken advantage of than he is applauded for his prowess. What's more, he's not as amicable as he would seem, in spite of his quiet demeanor and shrunken stature. Many people often consider his brevity sarcastic and cold, and misinterpret what he says in most circumstances. Most of what he does and says is genuine and Peter does his best to stay an honest man, especially when it really doesn't matter if he lies or not. In spite of his status, most people tend to stray away from him in hopes of finding someone who better supplies them with a more interesting story or better looking features. Not many people like taking photos of a hunched over man who looks a lot older than he really is. As well, people who hire him for a movie either knows he'll rake in the cash or wants someone who's malleable enough for them to either take advantage of or to best appreciate their ideas and the direction they wish to take a movie. Not many people look at his resume and think, "Wow, what a great guy!" If you have a reputation of being a pushover, whilst having enough talent and fame to make money off of, then you tend to get a lot of job offers, either good or bad, but mostly bad.

What's so special about Peter, though, is his talent to fully meld into a role and play it exactly the way it should be, or even beyond that. It's almost his escape, in that he is quick to completely throw away the person that he was to become fully absorbed into the world he's been hired to act in. Not that he'd tell a soul the real reason behind why he acts and why he's so exceptional at it. However, Peter doesn't see this as a talent or something to be proud of, especially with the way he goes about doing it. As he sees it, he's doing all of it wrong and can't be as good as he wants to be if he continues making the entire process a whole daydream. More, though, Peter doesn't think highly of himself in general and jumps to the conclusion that issues are his fault. In doing so, he makes it a job of his to clean up after both himself and other people, taking blame, doing whatever he can to correct mistakes that he supposedly made. Not only that, but he blames the end of his marriage on himself, despite the fact that his wife was the one using him and then immediately grew tired in the process. Though, in truth, it was his fault that it failed, as she was content enough to leech money and whatever she could until he was effectively ran dry.

But, if there's one thing that Peter cares deeply for, it's his daughter. And the moment his wife decided to let everything go, but his daughter, he was more than willing to give her every penny he ever made and every possession he ever had, and when bargaining wasn't enough, he brooded and plotted until the court date finally came around. Peter pulled every trick in the book, spent nights studying whatever law he could, just so she couldn't take his little girl away from him. And he won full custody, all because he knew exactly how to completely tire his wife out. She grew impatient, complied to his terms in court and gave full custody over to him, as long as she could see her at least once a week. Being a guy who was used to being thrown under the bus, he knew how she could be feeling and reluctantly gave her the privilege. Just as long as his whole world wasn't taken away from him and she, and the actual world, could see the fire in his eyes when it came to him and his daughter. That was a subject no one touched, no one who knew just how serious he took the situation, that is.

Ultimately, Peter is a smart cookie, with a trigger that could fuel him for years if necessary, and a great talent for acting—no one denies that, even as they're being underhanded and corrupt with him. Broken by self-hate and hate, in general, Peter only has one thing he lives for and it's quite obvious who that is.

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History:

Used to the cold Siberian winters of Russia, Peter spent a lot of his life in the country that might as well be its own continent. It was difficult, especially with how downtrodden and stricken by poverty his family was. It wasn't until he was just rounding out at twelve years old, did his parents find a way to get to a place where they could make a life for themselves. Settling down in London, England, his father invested his entire life in something that was bound to fail. However, to the surprise of mostly his family, he struck gold and with it he built up a business venture that would nearly monopolize the niche of industry it made its fortune in. From an apartment that could only comfortably fit a toddler to a manor in the suburbs of the affluent. It became the perfect habitat for a child to be raised, with a safety net and all the time and money in the world. But, Peter was happy with what he had back in Russia, with what he had in the tiny hovel of an apartment they lived in in the middle of London.

Home was a sanctuary, a place where he could bide his time safely doing whatever he wanted and it was usually him plastered in front of a TV, harmlessly watching shows and movies. Peter was unusually quiet for a child and relatively agreeable when asked to do anything, from his parents. There wasn't a complaint that came out of his mouth, not even a huff of frustration and it drove his parents up the walls. They didn't do a thing to harm or hurt him, though, and eventually got used to the odd nature of their child, who wanted nothing more than to be left watching everything and anything he could, from Casablanca to Psycho to Some Came Running and more. It was what he was nerdy about and not a soul didn't know. That was what started the bullying, his general and extreme obsession with filmography and acting, and then people started realizing just how much of a push-over he was. It went on to outright using him to do whatever they wanted. He did homework, helped people cheat on tests, pranked teachers, did a lot of awful things because pretty much anyone who wanted to could threaten to do a whole lot worse to him. The sudden rebellious streak caught his parents off guard, but he said nothing and went about the day just as he always did. It confused his parents into just letting the phase play out because he gave no red flags, no cue that he was being used, bullied, ridiculed, and so they didn't have to worry unless he was actually hurting someone. Not only that, but Peter was an adept at hiding any visible injuries. He can't do what a makeup artist does, but he knows the right amount of foundation for him to be able to cover up a black eye or cut, or whatever he needed. And it wasn't at all odd that he began wearing more layers than was comfortable for a person.

It didn't really get better as he got older because he didn't necessarily have the demeanor to thrive in the outside world. No one was calling him names or beating the living shit out of him, but they were seeing more potential in him and with that, the opportunity to manipulate him to further their own goals. Peter grew up to take over his father's industry, seeing as he was the only child, and thus went into business and financing until he could churn out numbers and come up with ideas himself that would rake in as much of a profit as possible. Of course, he only spent a few years outside of college before he finally realized just how much he hated running a company. It wasn't what he loved; it wasn't at all what he dreamed he'd be doing, just accepted as fact. And it suddenly wasn't hard for his father to tell exactly what was wrong, as if that entire decade of turmoil wasn't loud enough for him. He handed the company back over reluctantly, since his father didn't necessarily have a way to retire without an heir to take over.

Impulsively and with the aid and push from his mother, Peter picked up an acting job in the UK and throttled himself from there. From commercials to a hit TV show. No one quite knew the actual how of his sudden rocket forward, and simply put it up to money and talent. This was his dream and all those years spent in front of the TV wasn't just for simple entertainment; he took joy in studying and analyzing the best of the best. The fans saw him as a godsend they were waiting for and the entertainment industry saw him as a money machine—a goldmine waiting to burst. That's exactly what he did for the suddenly prospering TV Show Mile High, a previously dead end production that attempted a spin off from the hit Airplane parody that aired in 1996 in America and was about to get lost and forgotten in the shuffle of failed projects. But along came Peter to not only revive the project, but to take it to heights even the director didn't think it could go. Hit comedy, of which he promptly won a BAFTA for himself and the show three seasons in a row before he set his eyes on broader horizons, or rather had a few offers that he couldn't necessarily deny. Sadly, the show quickly took a nosedive with his absence and got cancelled after the viewers moved on.

From there, Peter moved from show to show and eventually to the big screen where his fans followed. And with him, money followed. He was used to getting ideas, both good and bad, out in the open. He even gave a production that would have been shut down almost immediately a chance to gather a following and eventually throttle it forward into leading a political party most people abhorred. Further productions like that stained Peter's reputation, though he didn't once complain and interviewers soon found they couldn't quite get the response they wanted out of him. That was the one good thing about his extreme self-consciousness; it was easier to get a whale to walk on land than it was to get even a tiny rise out of him. He took the hits like a bulwark, even if it really crushed him, but he couldn't possibly say no to a job that paid well. Well... that wasn't really the reason: he couldn't say no at all.

Which was why that gal who saw him only for his money and resources walked up to him and told him upfront, didn't hide it one bit, that he was a prize waiting to be taken. And she took him, used him, threw him away when she didn't want him anymore. But, she always came back to do the same thing over again. Peter knew exactly what she was doing, but did nothing about it—didn't even delude himself and call it 'love'. He didn't love her, and how could he? But, she could fabricate anything she wanted, use whatever she wanted and knew she would get away with it. He wouldn't deny a damn thing and would have taken the full blow without batting an eyelash and, thus, have everything he worked so hard for crushed and destroyed. But, that was his fault and he couldn't help that he was made that way. And there was absolutely nothing that he was currently living for. Peter only ever got the parts he truly wanted, was truly invested in, once in a blue moon and the rest were obvious ploys to get a message out to the people, or to further someone's career, get something that no one in their right mind would see onto the blockbuster list, or just to get as much money as possible. Add insult to injury, he won a damn Oscar for a supporting role in a movie that should have been doomed to fail and he didn't get a lick of respect for it, much less the money that he worked damn hard for.

When everything was just about to fall on top of him, and on top of being forced to move out of his comfortable home, something amazing happened. The cliche would be that his wife finally realized the error of her ways and they both fell in love, but not exactly. In the storm of his life, Peter acquired a child—well, technically they both had a child... together, but that's not what mattered. This beautiful little girl was the sign he needed, the life he needed to finally live for and someone who actually needed him for something that wasn't to further their own goals. She needed him for something trivial, but something of such vast importance it trumped and continues to trump anything and everything that was thrown his way, in a paradoxical manner he couldn't even try explaining. Not only this, but he finally got roles he'd been waiting his whole life for, as if it took this long for his luck to realize it was being a complete ass. Better late than never, though, right? And this little girl, Lucelia, adored her father to a near ingratiating degree. They were each other's worlds and that devil of a mother didn't really seemed to care, as long as she continued to live her comfortable, cushioned life. Though, even that was coming to an end.

Peter finally told her no. On top of that, he told her a secret he'd not told a soul, not even his parents knew about. Told her she finally had something real and true on him that he no longer cared for. She lashed out in a way he didn't expect, but he retaliated in a way no one would have predicted. And the whole world was eating from the palm of their hands, it was that good.

Tooth and nail.

Hair pulling.

Dirty fighting.

Sucker punches.

All proverbial, of course, but every tactic from Sun Tzu to Admiral Ackbar was used and exhausted when the threat of his daughter's well being was in question. Being married for so long, he knew everything about that lady, whilst she knew absolutely nothing about him. Exhausted and unwilling to fight any longer, she gave Lucelia up and promptly walked away without qualm or quarrel. She finally left him alone.

And he absolutely didn't want to run out of his luck. He spent day and night with his little girl, took her on set, did everything with her and eventually found himself helping to direct and produce movies, if only to make it easier on his daughter. With a background like his, he knew the essentials of producing a movie, as well as how to run a company. A movie was just a business venture to be ran and how efficiently it was ran was up to the people who committed themselves to the project. It was a well enough investment that he usually got enough money out of it to support himself even more so than before. As long as he could see to his daughter as much as possible, he was happy with doing just about anything and flexing his brain muscles and all that fun stuff.

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Miscellaneous:
-Is a well known actor, but has recently taken a break as to not stretch his luck and is more looking into producing and directing movies, at the moment.
-Has won 4 Oscars, 5 BAFTAs, 2 Emmies, and even a Tony, as well as countless others, while being nominated for numerous other awards in his career.
-Was previously married, but went through a very rough and publicized divorce, though the reasons for it have become a mystery the public has attempted so hard to grasp. It's under a lock and key that Peter isn't willing to hand over without a fight.
-Has a little girl named Lucelia that he simply can't live without.
-Currently spends most of his time in a small house somewhere in North Carolina, but his main residencies are in Upper Manhattan and West Los Angeles.
-Is often likened to a hedgehog
-Loves it when people ask him, "Are you [insert character] from [insert movie/show]?" because it reminds him that people do appreciate what he does, at least some people do. If one person likes him in a movie, then mission accomplished.
-If asked what his favorite role or favorite movie he was in was, then he'll immediately freeze up and stutter endlessly before excusing himself for tea or coffee.
-Doesn't have an accent, though people wonder constantly if it's just him covering up whatever native accent he has. He's not said a word to confirm or deny. Sometimes, he likes to keep things a mystery. Though, he does sometimes slip into either a subtle London accent, or a meek, central Russian accent.
-Adores his fans, Chevy Chasers, to an invariable degree, however numerous or not so numerous they are. Doesn't know where they coined that term and hopes to God no one decides to sue him for it.
-Among movies he's done, the most recognized are Life Beyond Simple Measures, a modern, romantic drama by Woody Allen, in which he played Ronald Greene, It's a Wonderful Life, a modernized homage and rework of the classic, in which he played George Bailey, and The Hamlet Dilemma, a dark dramedy some now consider a classic, in which he played Roman Hamlet Carolls. The most controversial movie he's done was probably a very botched and misguided revival of the book and movie, Animal Farm, in which the names of certain animals were replaced by politicians and the satire was made cruder and more direct with its political views. Not only that, but the two movies weren't very well spread apart in years and it got various lawsuits, in which Peter was thoroughly tied down in. A lot of money and box office sales were lost in the fiasco, but he somehow won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, which is currently stuffed in the deep recesses of his basement, along with the movie and anything related to it.

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What are your thoughts on the director, Luke Clemens? Do you believe he is as perfect as his fanbase lets on?

"Perfect?" Peter echoed, lifting his head up to catch the lights overhead. A visible squint in his eyes, he gave a firm shake of his head, still staring past the interviewer. There's a lengthy pause, in which Peter's brows knotted and his tongue darted out to lick the top of his lips before scrapping downward and back in. A cough caught his attention, to which he promptly looked back down with an arch in his brow and a glint playing across his eyes.

"Young."

Perplexed, the interviewer tilted her head forward, narrowing her eyes at Peter. "Just young?" she pressed and Peter simply nodded.

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Maximillian Harrison? He got quite a bad rap as a clumsy stunt man. I hear that's not good for a man in his line of work.

It took awhile and a good lot of squinting at the interviewer before realizing who Maximillian was. A light tint of red shaded his cheeks, of which he promptly leaned to the side to grab the attention of the onstage assistant. "Could I get a cup of tea? Hot, unsweetened, please," he covered his mouth as he spoke, as to further hush his voice. Turning back he gave a thin smile and apologized.

"I wouldn't say clumsy," he pondered, head slanting to the side a bit as his eyes focused on the interviewer's hand, "Maybe willingly naive is a better description."

"Oh?" she mouthed, her eyes widening and her lips curving into the smallest smirk.

"About the industry," Peter continued, pausing to catch her look. She nodded for him to go on, gesturing with her hand. After not getting another word for what seemed like a full minute and a half, she almost faded back, paled slightly, and frowned deeply at the quiver in his brow and the immediate pursing of his lips—the bottom of which was suddenly being chewed on ferociously.

"Ah. Let's move on, then. Is there any chance of you starring...?"

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What of Harris Klein? I'm sure as a man looking to broaden his horizons in the film industry, you must pull some inspiration from a man who obviously knew his stuff.

With head tilted forward, taking a quick sip of the hot tea given to him moments ago, Peter gave a curt shrug in response. "Lost, I guess," he mumbled, eyes darting to the side as he carefully set the cup down, "A fish swimming upstream; I know the feeling."

"Care to elaborate?" the interviewer asked, hiding the anticipated look that graced her features.

"Not really," Peter commented, hands once again reaching for the cup to hide his face behind and muffle his words, "I'd be using different, more complex words and syntax, but I'd be more or less repeating myself. I said it simply enough—that should suffice."

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In contrast to your fame and stardom, what's your take on the sudden rise and popularity of Youtube stars, who create and manage their own small productions? In particular, what're your thoughts on working with Jake Wilson?

"You say that is if I don't need constant reminding of my 'fame'," Peter quietly uttered, still hiding behind the cup of tea clenched tightly in his hands. The interviewer forced a laugh, tilting her head back for added affect—it made him cringe slightly. He understood that not many people enjoyed interviewing him.

"He's an every-man living out his dream," Peter finally answered, almost shrugging as his eyes drifted toward his shoes.

"You're saying he's average?" she twisted his words, smiling as she did so, "Don't think highly of podcasters and independent stars?"

"I said it as a term of endearment," Peter stuttered as the cup was set down and it seemed he fancied wringing his hands more than the fragile glass, "I understand why people like him; I don't understand why people like me."

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Since you'll be working with more than just the director and the actors, you must know some of the less flashy stars, right? Like the up and comer, Phoebe J. Collins who's made herself known in the industry, but not the public.

"She gets the job done," Peter remarked, quietly rubbing the cup in his hands as his eyes glazed over. After a few moments, he coughed and apologized, flashing a quick smile as he continued, "Memorable."

A thinly veiled puff emitted from the woman's lips, obligated to attempt to press the man further, "Memorable, how?"

Noticing the tired look and the frustration knitting her brows, Peter simply nodded and answered in kind, "I was just being nostalgic. Nothing of importance; I apologize."

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You've heard of Leo PNB Xavier, right? I imagine so, seeing as you've lived in London most of your life. And especially since his sister is such a rising star in the industry. Any thoughts on his sort of fading into film production and becoming a simple costume designer?

Looked like the interviewer threw all caution to the wind; she wasn't hiding her blatant want to get a rise out of him, something to slam onto the covers. And Peter, as he quickly retrieved his cup of tea, began to avoid any contact with her, preferring the nice lilacs that acted as a divider between them. What came as a disappointment was the sudden nothingness that hit his lips as he tilted the cup upward. Empty, just like any shred of confidence that swam in that mind of his.

Giving up on hiding his face, Peter grasped onto his wrists, vice grip already reddening the pale surface. "People have their dreams and passions," he began, still fervently staring at the lilacs on the coffee table, "There's nothing simple about it."

"Then what would you call it?"

"Certainly not fading away," he uttered quietly, "more like finding yourself—public approval notwithstanding."

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Hm, not much about Amy Ho, is there? Do you know her? Any comments in regards to her talents or whatever?

A break in the onslaught of instigation that the interviewer was no longer attempting to hide. Peter let out a sigh he figured she couldn't hear and leaned further into the cushion. The interview had him so on edge, he forgot just how to relax—not that that wasn't a thing Peter usually remembered to do. The irony immediately planted a small smile, no longer thin and pursed, onto his features.

"Works hard just to work hard," Peter commented, "but knows more than a lot of people claim to know."

Lifting the tea cup, he did his best to keep the smile on his face as he added, "Loves coffee as much as I love tea." The assistant promptly retrieved the cup before he could object, his whole body almost leaning forward as he stumbled on his apology.

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What about Max Goldstein? A man who's just starting out in producing has no doubt heard of this Max. Any competition or butting of heads you see in your future? Not everyone's going to like your ideas and if that someone's Max, then you're production has a big roadblock ahead of it.

"Nope," he said plainly, not catching the wording she attempted to use this time.

"Not at all?" she gave him a blank stare, doing her best to contain her agitation.

"We have our differences," Peter started, though didn't make any hints that he'd continue.

Sighing, the interviewer simply rubbed her temples and pinched the bridge of her nose before moving onto the next question.

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As for my final question in regards to you coworkers, colleagues, whatever: what's a pretty lady like Addison Matthews doing being an assistant producer? She's quite young, a doll, something that I'm sure could be cause for concern, am I right?

Of course, an interviewer can't outright say something like, 'Are you going to take advantage of your position as a Producer and movie star to get in bed with someone aspiring to do the things you do, in hopes that she would form connections that would rocket her career forward,' but it was blatantly obvious that that was what she was trying to get across. Peter's lips parted, teeth clenched and his face contorted slightly. A finger shot up to lodge itself between his lips as he forced himself not to chew his lower lip raw. The interviewer took this as a moment to press the situation further, but it honestly looked like she gave up on holding out for something scandalous to gossip about. Her eyes focused completely on him, but he could tell by the slouched over shoulders and lazed tilt in her head meant she'd rather this be over.

"She's... not my type?" Peter squeaked out, lurching his head forward as he spoke, "I don't know what your asking."

In a disbelieving tone, Peter scratched his head and asked, "Are you sure you know who I am?"

"It's why I didn't want to do this in the first place," she groaned, standing from her seat as she immediately left the set.

Looking down at his cup of tea, Peter sighed as the comment sunk in. The assistant who patiently stood above him caught his attention and he realized why the lady was still standing there. Downing his beverage in a rush, he handed her the cup and stood, thanked her and promptly wandered around lost. The interviewer barreled the last few questions as if she was running a damn marathon, which left him with over twenty minutes left of simply waiting for the nanny to call.

Maybe he'd go for some ice cream, rub it in his daughter's face, and then promptly get her the largest serving they had at the local ice cream parlor across the street and watch her get her yellow sundress all splattered with every flavor they had.

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