American Psycho

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18th February 1997 (Tuesday)

Ricky Stirling (POV)

"I don't blame you! It's not about YOU! You mathematical dick! It's about the boy! He's a good kid and I won't see you fuck him up like you're tryin' to fuck up me right now. I won't see you make him feel like a failure, too!" Pacino shouted at 'Lambeau', intense passion radiating in his voice and body language.

Rydell finally had enough and stood up, "He won't be a failure Sean!" Only for Pacino to fire back, "But if you push him, Gerry! If you ride him!" He delivered emotionally, clearly showcasing how much he had come to care for 'Will'.

Only for 'Lambeau' to interrupt in a semi-pleading tone, "Sean, I am what I am today because I was pushed and because I learned to push myself!"

And then I pointed with my finger, signaling the cameraman that it was my cue to enter, as I pushed open the door to the office bewildered at what I chanced upon.

"HE'S NOT YOU, YOU GET THAT!" 'Sean' screamed as 'Lambeau', hearing the squeaky sound of the door opening, turned his head towards me, followed by Al.

I stood there awkwardly, acting like I witnessed something I wasn't supposed to witness as I used the scant few seconds to get into character.

Christine Cornish (POV)

"I can come back-" 'Will' said, pointing towards the door ready to head when 'Lambeau' interrupted, "No come in. Uh, I was just leaving." He spoke in a subdued tone as he walked out.

As he leaves, and 'Will' closes the door behind him, 'Sean gathers himself for a second before raising his head, meeting Will's eyes.

He shrugs lightly, attempting to put that heated argument behind him as he said, "A lot of that stuff goes back a long way between me and him. You know?" He smiles softly, "Not about you." He ended, before turning back and walking towards a cabinet, picking up an opaque file on top of it.

"What is that?" 'Will' asks as he makes his way opposite 'Sean', who by then is busy perusing the file.

'Sean' replies without missing a beat, "This is your file. I have to send it to the judge for evaluation."

"Oh."

'Will' leans against a table, and looks up, a smidgen of worry appearing on his face, before he masks it and playfully asks, "Hey, you're not gonna fail me, are you?"

'Sean' chuckles lightly, not answering as he goes back to scanning the file.

"What's it say?"

"Wanna read it?" 'Sean' asks sincerely, as he holds out the file, but 'Will' doesn't shift his focus, firing back promptly, "Why?"

'Sean' retracts his appendage, albeit slightly hesitant as opens it up again.

'Will' asks, "Have you had any, uh, experience with that?"

"Twenty years of counseling. Yeah, I've seen some pretty awful shit."

"I mean, have you had any experience with that?" 'Will' repeats, the question revealing a whole new facet, with the subtle change in his tone.

'Sean' looks up and meets Will's eyes, staring for a second before asking, "Personally?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I have." He nods slowly, 'Will' nodding along before trying to make light of it, "It sure ain't good."

'Sean' looks up, not hesitating in the least to confide, "My father was an alcoholic. Mean fucking drunk… He'd come home hammered, looking to wail on somebody. So I'd provoke him, so he wouldn't go after my mother and little brother. Interesting nights were when he wore his rings." He looks back into the file.

'Will' contemplates for a second, before folding his arms and speaking, "He used to just put a, uh, wrench, a stick and a belt on the table and just say, 'choose.'"

"Well, I gotta go with the belt there, Vanna."

"I used to go with the wrench."

"Why the wrench?"

"Cause fuck him, that's why." 'Will' looks up, meeting his eyes.

"Your foster father?"

"Yeah."

'Will' probes lightly, "So, uh, what is it, like, Will has an attachment disorder? Is it all that stuff?" He smirks, trying to stave off the emotions by making light of the situation. His classic defense mechanism at play.

'Sean' nods twice before looking down, his expression not changing in the least as 'Will' continues.

"Fear of abandonment? Is that why, uh… Is that why I broke up with Skylar?" He asks rhetorically, seeing some sort of morbid amusement in his situation.

'Sean', taken by surprise, breaks his silence, "I didn't know you had."

"Yeah, I did."

"You wanna talk about it."

'Will' shakes his head, "No."

'Sean' sensing the turn the conversation was about to take, gradually walks towards 'Will' as he speaks, "Hey, Will, I don't know a lot." He stops abruptly, lifting up the file in his hand.

"You see this? All this shit?" He says, placing the file down before continuing, "It's not your fault."

'Will' taken aback, meets his eyes for a sec, before looking down, mumbling quietly, "Yeah, I know that."

'Sean' continues walking, trying to meet his eyes, "Look at me, son."

'Will' looks up, only to hear, "It's not your fault."

"I know." He dismisses it casually… until 'Sean' repeats it.

"It's not your fault."

'Will' tries dismissing it again with a half-hearted grin, "I know."

But 'Sean' relentlessly continues, "No, no, you don't. It's not your fault."

They stare into each other's eyes, before Will's defense mechanism resurfaces, "I know." He says, and stands up, only to find barely any distance between him and 'Sean'.

"It's not your fault."

"All Right."

"It's not your fault."

Will's eyes, now full of unshed tears, makes one last attempt, "Don't fuck with me."

"It's not your fault."

'Will' finally having been pushed to his limits lashes out, pushing 'Sean' back roughly, "Don't fuck with me, all right? Don't fuck with me Sean, not you." He shakes his head, tears… supposed to stream down his eyes, any moment now…

'Sean' remains undeterred, his visage remaining steadfast as closes in again, "It's not your fault."

Will's defenses having been broken down, he finally erupts into sobs, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking as 'Sean' strokes his cheek, "It's not your fault." He whispers lightly.

'Will' crashes down on his shoulders, hugging him for all that he's worth, sobbing heavily, his face utterly flushed…

Hold on… where in the… there are no tears.

'Wil- no wait, Ricky seemingly realizes it that very second, as he pulls back forcefully and looks towards the ceiling, panting heavily, his face turning an ugly shade of bitterness as he yells, "CUT!!!"

And that very second, the silence enveloping the set pops like a balloon, as stagehands rush forward to set things back.

Ricky meanwhile…

"FUCK! FUCKIN' HELL GODDAMNIT!!" He yelled, kicking a chair in front of him… which flew across the room narrowly avoiding a rushing stagehand before crashing against an empty wall with a massive THUD.

A pin-drop silence ensues, as every crew member simultaneously stops what they're doing, shocked at the unbelievable feat of strength they witnessed, while at the same time utterly terrified. It probably didn't help when the stagehand who narrowly dodged the chair fell back in a panic before running off the set, towards the… washroom.

Oh hell no! That's it! Granted it's like 11th take today, and tensions were running high, but that does NOT give him the right to act like an asshole!

Just as I was about to holler at him to stop, Pacino beat me to it.

"RICKY! What the fu- what in the… are you out of your goddamn mind!! Calm down right fucking now, or I WILL take a flamethrower to your ass!" He shouted, as he pulled Ricky's arm, turning him around.

A second later, Daryl speaks up, "Everyone else, let's take a break! We meet back in an hour. Leave the set as is, we'll change it back later. Come on, good work guys, good work all around!" He disperses the crows masterfully, clapping a few people's backs as he makes his way towards me.

"Christy listen, we'll talk to him ok? You know him, you know he wouldn't act like this normally. He's… going through something. Anyways, I called up Trent, just… don't talk about this to anyone okay? It's not an open set, but we don't want word of this spreading."

I nod along, "Yeah, ok. I can get behind that I guess. Just… make sure he's got his head screwed on right by the time we get back. I'll go over to the cafeteria, try and stop people from gossiping. You get in there right fucking now, ok?"

He nods along before jogging lightly towards Ricky… who's now hunched over, sitting, staring at the floor, regret visible on his face.

Oh thank God. At least, he knows what he did was wrong.

And with that cheery thought, I make my way towards the cafeteria.

Al Pacino (POV)

'Kid, you okay?" I ask, my hand on his back, as he leans over, mumbling something.

"I'm sorry what? Speak up a little will you?"

"I'm sorry. For-for… the chair thing. I'll apologize to the stagehand. It's just… that was the 11th fucking take Al. We've been at it since 8 in the morning and it's 2 right now. I just… I can't seem to get this right! Everything else! All other scenes, I played to fucking perfection. And this… fuckin' hell. I'm sorry man, I'm just… I'm sorry."

Bloody hell.

I take the kid by his arms and lift him up from his seat to his surprise before leaning in, "Kid, let's end this today. We'll redo the scene tomorrow, and mark my words, you WILL, get it right. Meet me in my room at 5 o'clock sharp. It's 'bout time I address this shit."

"Wha- What? Address what?"

"I see you rehearsing, and acting. You devised your own didn't you? Your own little set of exercises? 'Method Acting'? And it works flawlessly… until it doesn't. Rejoice, for today, you're 'bout to be schooled by a grandmaster. I know why you couldn't do this scene. Or at least, I got a hunch. If I'm wrong, we'll explore other avenues. But if I'm right… it's about time I give you a lesson or two in 'real', method acting." I say, before leaning back to savor his 'shocked silly' face.

"Remember kiddo, 5 o'clock sharp. Now, that guy whose face was a couple of inches away from being smashed in by the fucking chair? You find his ass and beg on your knees if you have to. Either way, make good, apologize, then get some food. I'm heading back."

"Not hearing a response in return, I head back towards my trailer. There's a tomahawk ribeye, and a bottle of Haut-Brion with my name on both of 'em.

I'll deal with the kid later.

Sigh, it's not like I haven't seen an actor spiral out of control when they're in 'character', but Ricky… I can't say I expected this.

Anyways, I gotta get back to the hotel after this, call up Ambrose.

If I'm right about this, if my hunch plays out… Well then I'll have to break out a bottle of Jack Daniels, cause there's no chance in hell I'm getting through tonight sober.

Author's note: I'm sorry for this chapter guys, don't blame me, please. I've got some solid character development planned for the next 2 chapters, which will transform the MC from an unlikeable prick, to a likeable prick. He's still gonna remain a prick, but things are gonna change in the way he thinks soon enough.