Almost Famous

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22th September 1997 (Monday)

Ricky Stirling (POV)

"So with all primary factors taken into consideration, accounting for talent acquisition costs and excluding possible residuals, we will require a budget of… that's it?!" Missy exclaimed.

"$2.5 million… I can arrange that… hey Missy, acquire the equipment on credit for now, I'll have the amount ready by Friday but we can't delay the shoot any longer. We've got almost everyone we need, and the cast is on standby, so uh, just recheck the dates for the locations, see if we haven't made any errors."

"We haven't… you told me to check 20 minutes ago and I did… that was the 3rd time you asked me to today-" She shot me a puzzled look.

I pursed my lips, before shaking my head in exasperation, "I did didn't I?"

"... Ok, I'm no shrink, but even I know when something's bothering you so spill."

"... Missy we have a long day ahead of us-"

"OH MY GOD JUST SPILL! CAN'T BELIEVE IT"S TAKING YOU SO LONG-"

"OKAY-Ok! You got me ok?! I'm just… worried Missy. I-I don't know if I did the right thing, or screwed the pooch, it's kind of complicated you know?"

"Then uncomplicate it, starting with what happened."

I gazed into her eyes, before launching into a story, "So 2 hours ago…"

(Flashback)

The door to my makeshift office opened with a squeak, as Pacino entered, followed by his agent, this 70 year old dude with a handlebar mustache, his skin sagging heavily and his neck swallowing up his chin…

"Al! Always a pleasure! And Mr. Fickleston, good to meet you again!" I greet them, my voice dripping with fake enthusiasm, something which Al picked up on, if his sour expression is anything to go by. Fickleston didn't by the looks of it, he did look pissed though… Why wouldn't he be? Anyone would if a 19 year old repeatedly mispronounced your name again and again, to the point of aggression.

"It's Finklestein" He corrected, for the umpteenth time… 12th as a matter of fact.

"Of course, my apologies Gary, got my tongue tied at the worst possible moment. Anyways, sit down! Please, have a seat. Do you two want anything? Tea? Coffee? Pretty sure I've got a bottle of scotch lying around here somewhere-"

This time, it was Al who cut in, "No! Thank you for the offer though, we just finished a cup of joe an hour ago."

"Hmm… Ok then!" I clap loudly with a massive grin, "Let's get down to brass tacks shall we? Now, Mr. Frankenstein-" And that's when he finally lost it.

He slammed his hands on the table, standing up with fury etched over his face as he pointed at me, "IT'S FICKLEST-, FINKELSTEIN DAMN IT! YOU KNOW IT! YOU FUCKING KNOW IT AND I WILL NOT BE DISRESPECTED BY YOU- A PRETENTIOUS LITTLE PUNK! YOU HEAR ME KID? HUH?! YOU HEAR ME?!" He hollered in my face, spit particles freely flowing out of his mouth in all directions, covering an impressively massive range… I'll have to call in the janitor.

I take out a napkin and proceed to wipe a few drops of his disgusting spit off my face before I vomit for the first time ever in this life. That's right, I've been vomit free since I was born, and I intend to keep it that way.

"Have a seat Gary, and if you're done with your little tantrum, then shall we proceed?" I carried on calmly without so much as a twitch, knowing full well the effect my nonchalance was having on the man's already fragile ego.

'You-You-" He trembled, eyes wide, as he tried to formulate a response before being cut short… Except this time, it wasn't me.

"Gary, for the love of god, sit down. Now. Kiddo," He began, facing me this time, "I'm not going to beat around the bush this time. I want this role… And you clearly want me in it-"

"Wanna bet?" I interrupted him, eyes narrowed, lips stretching into a sarcastic smirk.

A few seconds of silence followed, where me and Al just stared at each other… until he sighed, rolling his eyes before speaking, "Listen, for 'Hanratty', I am sorry. It's just, I saw an opportunity which I thought was better, and I took it! So I'm sorry for not informing you beforehand and- you know… backing out at the last minute, I'm sorry kiddo."

"It's ok Al. It's ok."

"So we're good?"

"Of course we are!"

"Oh great. That's a relief to be honest. Now, regarding the fees-"

"Oh! I have it right here with me!" I open a file in front of me with a cheery expression, my voice turning oddly high-pitched, "Now for your salary, I believe the Screen Actors Guild has certain regulations in place so let's follow them shall we? We're both members after all- Now," I loudly clear my throat before continuing, "For a supporting cast member, the weekly minimum rate prescribed by the union is $1752 for a low budget film, so you my dear Al, will receive a hefty remuneration of 1752 into 2.76, that comes to a crisp $4835."

I close the file, steal a glance at the enraged look on 'Frankenstein', before meeting Pacino's dumbstruck eyes.

A moment of silence followed, which was broken by-

"Oh you can not be serious! What the- I thought this was a legitimate offer for my client Mr. Stirling but you are clearly going out of your way to insult him at every possible step with your-"

"Shut the fuck up." I cut in, my eyes meeting his own as he freezes, before beads of sweat start rolling down his sideburns as unbridled fear grips his thoughts.

I shift my eyes to Pacino, as he stares confused at his agent's frozen form, not feeling a hint of pressure that Gary was undergoing that very second.

"You hurt me Al." I started softly, "If anyone else, any random ass bastard blew me off like that, I wouldn't care one bit. I would say 'fuck him' before moving on with life, but you? You of all people? Your… betrayal if we're putting a label on it, it hurt… And after everything we went through, everything 'you' made me go through, just discarding it all and why? Because this sleazy scumbag-" I pointed at Gary's face, "cared more about money, than your career commitments… Why else would he convince you to sign on for the trilogy? Oh wait, I'm sorry- last I heard, it became a mini-series to be aired on ABC because Ridley fucking Scott can't make up his demented mind over how to proceed!"

I take a pause, before continuing at a lower volume, "I want to work with you Al, I really do. You are by far one of the best actors I have ever met and this role… you can breathe life into it like no other… but I need something more this time. So if you are truly sorry… if you truly, out of the bottom of your heart want to work with me again… then you'll accept this offer."

While Gary finally got over the effects of my skill, the fear I instilled in him kept him from disrupting the flow of the conversation.

Al looked somber for the most part, his face showed hints of guilt, as he tapped away at the desk, before breaking the tranquility, "So 5000 dollars…"

"Well, actually 4835- eh, you know what? I'll round it off to 5."

He gazed into my eyes with a complicated expression on his face, before sighing heavily, "I'll take it." He whispered.

"Little louder please-."

"I'll take it! You happy? I'll take it!"

(Flashback Ends)

"So it wasn't really blackmail per se, but- oh grow up!" I remark grumpily as Missy falls off the chair, clutching her stomach in laughter.

After a few minutes filled with raucous cackles, she finally got around to addressing the matter at hand.

"You- Ricky, I haven't said this enough, but you're quite possibly the most ballsy guy I've ever met in my life. It's Al Pacino! Oscar laureate, prolific character actor Al Pacino, and you put the fear of God- ok nope, you atheist little shit. You put the fear of… yourself? Yeah I'll roll with it, the fear of yourself in his agent, and then gave him an ultimatum… I genuinely don't know how to react to this kiddo. Like seriously, no idea at all."

"Perhaps you can start with whether you think I should have done it or not?" I pose the question, leaning forward, and resting my chin on my knuckles, elbow on the desk.

"Well… what if he holds a grudge? What if he- oh I don't know, tattles to the press? They won't like it will they? I can see the headlines already, 'Spoiled teenager underpays respected thespian out of pettiness!' Breaking News Ricky."

"He won't do that." I shake my head resolutely, "He'll be tanking his own chances, and frankly, he's not that stupid. He's smart, he won't turn against me. Plus, no chance he holds a grudge for this. In fact, the moment he reaches home and reads the complete contract, he'll be dancing away, spraying champagne all around."

"Huh… Ok, I have clearly missed something here then. Ricky… you gave him minimum wage-"

"Upfront." I cut in, raising my lips a little.

"Upfront… Oh! Oh damn you kiddo, you almost had me going there for a second!" She chuckles as soon as she realizes the truth.

"How much then?"

"One percent. To be honest, he deserves it and more. I don't even care about him ditching me for something else. Why wouldn't he? Good Will Hunting hadn't released yet, and he had no idea how much acclaim I would gather, or how much he would receive for his role… so he hedged his bets, and went on with Ridley Scott who seemed like the safer option out of the 2 of us. But I had to make him realize that pissing me off again could have severe consequences… so I decided to test him a little. And he passed… With flying colors no less." I chuckled.

Me and Missy proceeded to share a few laughs at Pacino's expense, before we diverted back to business.

"Ok so, the cast members are on standby… I'm guessing that includes your little girlfriend?" Missy asks, raising her eyebrows teasingly.

"She's not little you know? You're barely a year older than her but yeah, she's on standby… for the most part. She's actually gonna shoot a commercial for some hair conditioner brand- don't worry, I made sure the schedules don't clash so you got nothing to worry about."

"Good. Now, I'm in talks for purchasing the licensing rights for the list of songs you gave me 2 days ago. What's the update on the score?"

"I submitted it 4 days ago to the recording studio."

"Awesome. Now editing-"

"I'll do it myself. I told you before, I can get it done within a matter of days at most."

"Great, now listen, Yash is doing good right now, the marketing is picking up slowly but surely, and he's making good use of the interns last I saw. Now, the PR department on the other hand… had some complaints."

"Oh! Please, go on."

"Well… you're a public figure now Ricky, and having newspapers write articles about your life is an essential part of fame and publicity… they claim it's a little difficult doing it when you don't… have a life outside of this company."

Oh she did not just say that.

"I do have a life dammit! So I'm committed to my work! It's not like I don't spend time with my dad, with Charlize, with you and Trent and Daryl-"

"I'm talking about social events Ricky. Like some actor's birthday party, or a charity gala, or well… anything really. Places where the media can picture you with other famous personalities, that sorta thing. You're sorely lacking in that department Ricky and frankly-" She shakes her head worriedly, only to be interrupted by me.

"Nope." I counter almost instantly.

"-What?"

"No. No parties, no galas, no bar mitzvahs, nothing. Not until February next year. Missy, I'm working harder than anyone else, to painstakingly craft a reputation for myself in the industry. This is my debut at the awards season! And I don't wanna just make a splash like others do every year I wanna… shock. I want people to be looking at me and thinking simultaneously, 'Is he for real?' I want them to look at my achievements, not just with envy, but disbelief and ludicrousness. For that… I'll do anything. So you can tell the folks over in PR to do the best with what they have, since they probably won't have anything more until 5 months later. Got it?"

…

"You're one crazy ass bastard Ricky… emphasis on crazy."

Author's Note: If any of you disagree with the MC's actions, or believe they are flawed, do note that the MC is not infallible, and he will eventually face the repercussions and ramifications of what he unleashes. Every single action he undertakes, whether flawed or not is part of the carefully crafted plot so just... sit tight I guess.