Chapter 4

Six months later neither Henry nor Joe could believe they sat at a table in Hollywood across from a world famous actor who’d started in indies before ending up in major blockbusters. Two other men also looking to be in their forties and a blonde woman of indeterminate age, her cuteness made it hard to know how old sat around him while Lindy sat beside Joe, being the one who made the meeting possible and the one in charge of the paperwork. One of the officious looking men across from them, making this meeting particularly unique, represented a publishing company who published graphic novels.

Thanks to Lindy not only had Joe getting published been negotiated but also making sure Henry directed Joe’s script. She and Joe had been directed by Henry in extremely low budget but surprisingly effective scenes from Joe’s screenplay to make it clear Henry would be capable.

But Henry surprised her when he told the potential producers, “I’d like Lindy to be the star. In fact I kind of insist on it.”

Lindy tensed, worrying Henry fucked things up, especially when the actor started laughing uproariously, but when he finally calmed, he explained, “I wondered how long you’d go there or if you would. We liked the project as much for her in it than anything. Lindy, you’re such a unique presence. We couldn’t imagine anyone taking that role.”

“But I’m no beauty,” Lindy reminded them.

It was the woman who told her, “You’re in Hollywood young lady. Beauty’s a dime a dozen here. Talent, which you have, a bit less common. But someone as natural as you, with real intelligence behind the eyes, and like we said a completely unique presence? That’s the rare ones.”

“We, uhm, anticipated your request,” said the other partner in the production company, pushing a document in front of Lindy across from him.

The publisher also pushed across a document which Henry placed in front of Joe.

“You have someone to look that over?” the man with the producer contract asked.

“In the wings just in case,” Lindy grinned, pulling out her smartphone. “Give him five minutes?”

The group across the table laughed.

“Have you already put together financing?” Henry asked.

“Working on it,” the actor said. “Uhm, what would you think about casting me as the main villain?”

Henry thought a moment about it, realizing it would bring in significant money and major studio and thus distribution interest. He was a short stocky good looking and of course charismatic guy, which was actually perfect for the role.

“If you’re willing to deal with a rookie director,” he answered.

Mitch, the actor grinned. “One too long in the dugout I think. I trust you kid or wouldn’t put my company behind you. Getting in the big leagues with a lot bigger budgets has its share of problems. I want you to get to know Connie here. She’ll get you through the traps, troubles, tribulations and temptations better than anyone in this business.”

“Don’t forget treachery,” Connie added. “What with money being the root of all evil, a common sin. I’ve been on both sides, with the guys with the huge pockets whose values often make you wonder how anything good gets done, and guys like you with their hands out so they can get the good work done. I’ve been the one between them, between you and the money guys, and have gotten to know both perspectives, so yeah if I think you’re pushing things beyond your limits I’ll let you know, but also if you’re holding back, worried about asking for more. Chances are, up to a limit of course, we can get it done.”

“With my name on it,” Mitch admitted, “We’ll have a couple other production companies backing it, which will put us into development of a full length film. What we still need...”

“Distribution,” said Henry.

“Where do you want this, Henry? You want it on big screens? Maybe international with subtitles or dubbing?”

“Ideally yes. My dream scenario is some kind of sleeper hit with you maybe making people more curious, but with the first time director and from an unknown comic book...”

“My company actually has real distribution and a top sales group, so I think people are going to get to know Joe’s work,” said the publisher.

“But that brings up another thing,” said Mitch. “Comics to live action is pretty much owned by Disney, Marvel and DC. And they are in turn owned by the biggest pockets out there, with guaranteed large screens and butts filling seats.”

“Not the biggest pockets,” Joe said.

“Amazon,” the actor nodded.

“Not exactly a big screen company,” said Henry.

“And then there’s Netflix,” the actor continued. “I’ve actually been courted by them, as an actor and my production company.”

“Are you thinking of this project?” Henry asked.

“We’re actually thinking about something else a bit more ambitious,” said the publisher. “A new subscription network. To fill out the programming, it would start with animation, some of the less known Anime along with Bakshi’s work and some of the artier stuff from around the world, but also past live action like Barbarella. There’d be documentaries about underground comics like Crumb. Eventually we’d be producing our own work, we being a network of publishers like me, independents, modelled on the network of indie record companies distributing their own product by working together. Your product, Joe and Henry, would be the flagship movie, and in fact, if possible, it would work even better, create a bigger splash, if it did get shown in theaters.”

“That is ambitious,” Joe agreed.

“We were maybe hoping,” the producer continued, “we could air that bit you did with Lindy as a sort of teaser, and maybe, depending on the response, do the same with your other comics.”

“Just the still image and words?” Joe asked. “No animation?”

“Animation gets expensive,” said Mitch.

“Depends on how sophisticated you make it,” Joe responded. “What Lindy and I did was just for fun and was quick and easy, and became a way to sell the screenplay and for Henry to get a sellable property to direct, but you know I have a partnership which makes video games, and we have the equipment and skills to animate pretty much anything, and with Lindy and I, the vocal talent as well. Our partnership pretty much aims at creating games which we sell to one of the larger gaming companies, but more and more the product we actually send them could very well stand alone such that, essentially, the company is becoming more and more a distributor rather than slicking our product to make it commercial. In fact one of our games ended up worse from their tinkering, which spurred us into the position of giving them a viable product that they can’t screw up. The last one they put out, by far the least edited by them, has been one of their most profitable, and the one they just bought cost them a lot more because of it,” Joe chuckled.

“But gaming video isn’t as sophisticated as a good animation,” the publisher argued.

“Think of it this way: we’re essentially creating worlds which have several levels which means a lot of created backgrounds and characters. In a sense we have to create short-hand versions of images. But what if instead of being expansive and interactive it becomes limited to a specific story, to hone in on the images needed to tell that story, essentially focusing and expanding only on the panels of the comic. It would be effectively much more real or much more whatever the reality is meant to be, time able to be spent on quality rather than quantity.”

“Are you saying you have the equipment to achieve commercial or sophisticated animation?” the publisher asked.

“Some expansion would be needed in equipment, servers and probably staff. You’d have to ask my computer genius partner about that. All I know is what he can get out of the limited equipment we have is practically legendary and always gets better. With a few more bucks and more staff, I believe he’d be capable of the highest quality work possible.”

“Working from your graphics and your stories?”

“Yes.”

“And if it were someone else’s graphic novel?”

“That would generate whatever the imagery would be needed.”

“I mean transforming it into animation? It would have to be scripted and directed. Would you say in your partnership you would be considered the director?”

“It’s more collaborative than that. All three of us generate ideas which makes the end product all the better.”

“But you originate the basic story and imagery and script, yes?”

“Pretty much. Once the three of us decide on the concept.”

“But if the concept is already decided by the graphic novel? And things like new levels, what they might be or how to get to them no longer becomes a factor?”

“A film would need a singular vision, a director, and you think that should be me?”

“Don’t you?”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. If it’s my images and my script, I might be too much inside it to get a true overall perspective.”

“I’m not interested in directing cartoons,” Henry injected without being asked.

“Oh shit,” Joe thought. “That would be the last thing I want, working that closely with that asshole, but he’s the only director in the room.”

Thankfully Connie pointed out, “That’s what screenings are for, outside perspective. And you could get a veteran editor to advise you in the process.”

“What do you think Joe?” the publisher asked. “You think you’re up to it?”

Joe chuckled. “I think I just got you all involved in a whole new project none of us expected coming in. This was supposed to be about Henry directing a live action version of my graphic novel. Not that I’m not totally enthused about jumping in with both feet, but just like every movie with any ambition, we probably need to know what the budget is going to be. I need to talk to Stuart, my nerd partner, whose tendency to fight kicking and screaming against any new advance and especially one as major as this will give us the most honest and conservative estimate about the cost of equipment. As far as talent...”

“I can help with that,” said Connie.

“Sure, but I was going to say I know how to be effective with the minimum...”

“Just you and Lindy?”

“Yes, and some pretty effective modulations of our voices.”

“Let’s see what opening that up a bit may cost,” Connie argued.

“Sure,” Joe smiled. “Why not?”

“Give us a week, guys,” said Connie, “and we’ll bring you in some numbers.”

“Like Joe mentioned,” Mitch reminded her, “we’re here about greenlighting the live action film.”

“Yes, but they’re connected, at least at the beginning.”

“Just the teaser,” Mitch responded.

“Which Joe is suggesting could be a lot more professional looking.”

“What if it was a teaser for both things?” Joe smiled. “We could minimize the animation by starting with the way it is, and then have it evolve into it being fully animated. That way it could promote the live action, the better version so to speak, and give a taste of the proprietary films for the network.”

“Could you give us numbers for that?” the publisher asked. “And since we are already talking about promoting your film, getting the graphic novel to a wide audience, perhaps more money for this?” he asked Mitch.

“Makes sense,” Mitch nodded.

The lawyer had arrived by then, looking through the documents. Joe decided to look too, struggling through the legalese perhaps trying to find something hinky that the admittedly not top notch lawyer they’d hired might not see and nothing jumped out at him. The actor’s apparent lawyer answered questions. It seemed nothing needed changing and the documents had been signed by Henry and Joe, each with their own. Another document, looked over by their lawyer and Joe, came from the publisher. Contracts signed, checks were given, one for Henry and two for Joe. Joe’s were the final ones for his work, the screenplay and the graphic novels. Being first time payments, he understood there wouldn’t be any points for further profits. Nevertheless he had no complaints. For a rookie he felt generously compensated, especially for his screenplay. He did ask, “What about rewrites?”

The actor looked a little uncomfortable with the question, but the nonplussed Connie answered. “Other writers will be brought in as is common practice in Hollywood. However, if it’s necessary for you to be brought in, you will be paid the usual salary.” Somehow the way she said it, that would be unlikely. In a way it bothered him, like having his baby taken from him, but mostly the thought of any ongoing work with Henry made it a lot easier to let go.

Joe just nodded.

Henry’s was the first of his salary, more substantial than the other checks would be as a sort of signing bonus, but more to help him relocate to Hollywood, his residence while making the film and hopefully after when other films came to him.

“So we’ll meet in a week from today?” Connie asked. Everyone looked at their schedule and agreed, at least everyone on one side of the table. Neither Henry nor Lindy would need to be there, and Joe really didn’t have anything going on at the moment. He and Lindy stayed at his brother’s place and had already planned to stay there for a week.

With the meeting ending, Henry decided they needed to celebrate. “Mind if I join you?” Connie asked. None of the three objected.

They ended up bar crawling Hollywood Boulevard, a couple bars before ending up at a club for some local, albeit once nationally popular, punk/ska band of which Connie was more excited to see than the others. Both Joe and Henry had heard of them, Joe being more familiar having been a fan of the music in his teens. Lindy had no clue.

But she ended up being the one who enjoyed it most if her ending up on a table dancing was any proof. Like the first time they met, a bouncer insisted she get down, recommending they should leave. But unlike the first time, Henry ended up eagerly beside her. The evening had worked its way to that, the more she drank, the closer the two seemed to get. And more than once they’d gone off together to obviously snort some coke.

Once outside, Joe subtly guided the two to the corner and flagged down a cab. “You two take it,” he insisted. “I’ll get a ride from Connie.”

He watched the cab take off, sighing. When he turned around, he found himself in Connie’s embrace. After kissing him, she asked, “You okay with this?”

“Yes,” he murmured and kissed her back. “Let me leave a message with my brother.”

“It’s late.”

“My brother’s a night owl.” And another drunk, he thought, getting his brother’s inebriated voice and letting him know not to worry about him.

“You okay with this?” Connie asked, gesturing to the street and the gone cab.

“Not really.” When she frowned, he explained, “Not with you. I’m definitely attracted.” Though at least forty, Joe being a gentleman not to ask, but she’d talked about the many assholes for which she worked during the evening’s conversations, just the two of them really once Lindy moved her attention exclusively to Henry, and her naming names and him being an obsessive film nerd, Joe figured she’d been at it for at least twenty years, her cute, petite pixie blonde features kept her looking much younger. Except for crows’ feet at the edges of her eyes, and a certain wisdom in them, without knowing her history he would have guessed mid-thirties at the oldest. And the blouse she wore along with the pencil skirt showed her slimness, the arms and legs exposed a subtly muscled firmness. The woman liked to keep in shape.

“You and Lindy... ?” she realized.

“Yeah. I tried ... but when she gets like that ... but Henry...”

“It seemed like her choice,” Connie said.

“I don’t even know if that’s true,” Joe muttered.

“Actors,” Connie nodded. “He recommended her...”

“Yeah. And Henry got the result he wanted. I just thought...”

“Thought what?”

“Later,” Joe smiled tightly. “Keys?” he opened his palm.

“Just like a man,” Connie pouted.

“I’ve had a lot less alcohol than you,” he explained.

“You just want to drive my sexy car,” she smirked, finding her keys and handing them to him.

“Before driving your sexy body crazy,” he smirked back.

She giggled youthfully and took his big hand with her small one.

They walked the direction from which they’d previously crawled so to speak, remaining hand in hand, until they reached the white Lincoln with the white leather interior with cherry red accents. He opened the passenger seat for her, letting her settle in before closing her door and walking around to the driver side. Once in, Connie saving his knees by moving the seat back, she leaned over and gave him a lengthy, promising kiss, telling him after, “For being a gentleman.”

He chuckled and figured out the push button starter before negotiating out of the parking spot a few feet off Hollywood Boulevard. “Where to?” he asked.

She guided him to an apartment building off Sunset Boulevard in Westwood not all that far from where they’d been. Aside from occasional directions they remained mostly silent, having to do with Joe negotiating traffic. Once parked in her assigned spot, he followed her into the glass and steel building, him handing her the keys to unlock and then took an elevator to the second to the top floor where she unlocked her apartment door.

“Can I see the view?” he asked. A large curtain covered most of the wall across from the entrance door.

“Knock yourself out,” she replied. “I’m going to pour us a couple drinks and then take a quick shower and put on something comfortable.”

“Sounds good,” Joe chuckled, finding the chord that pulled the curtain aside revealing a glass wall and a lanai beyond it. The lights of LA twinkled and flowed, the dark ocean beyond. “Wow,” he approved.

While gazing, she brought out a couple tumblers with bourbon straight up which both had been drinking. She handed him one and they tapped the glasses together. “To tall handsome strangers,” she toasted, and they sipped. “To cute and smart blondes,” was his toast and they tapped and drank to that too.

“Go ahead and wait on the lanai if you want,” she told him. “I’ll be a few minutes.”

“I will,” he grinned.

He pulled open the glass door and closed it behind him, the air a little cool, and settled himself onto a metal chair with plastic coated cushions at the seat, the back and the arms. A glass covered table with similar metal he used for his glass. He continued the gaze to the west while his thoughts saddened him and worried him. Thoughts about Lindy and her drunken, idiotic choice. “She made her choice,” he spoke out loud into the breeze. “I just hope she’s alright.” He swallowed down a substantial amount of the top shelf bourbon, barely tasting it. Connie had been generous with her pouring and half of the amber liquid remained.

Henry’s and Lindy’s cab ride had also been short since his hotel was in Hollywood, walking distance to the office building in which they had their meeting. Lindy had been giggly throughout the ride, obviously drunk, but of course dancing on the table had been proof enough. He guided her stumbling gate to his room on the second floor and she managed to stand upright somewhat when he found his key card and opened the door.

Another giggle when she dropped onto the queen sized bed, her long legs dangling off. Taking off his linen jacket, hot LA demanded the choice, and hanging it in the small closet, he went to her and leaned over her, grabbing her torso. “Come on. Scoot up.”

“Okay,” she giggled and they managed to get her fully on the bed.

Retrieving his cocaine kit, a small mirror, a straight safety razor blade, a rolled up hundred dollar bill and the small dark bottle half full of white powder and set up on the bedside table, tapping out a small pile and chopping it and sliding it into four lines. He snorted his two and decided to bring hers to her. Laying on her side, her head propped on her hand, she accepted the offer, sucking in both lines for each nostril.

“I gotta pee,” she decided and managed to slide onto her feet off the bed and walk the few steps to the bathroom. Skirt up and panties off, she let the fluid go, gazing at the curtained bathtub.

“I think I want a shower,” she said.

“What’s that?” Henry shouted.

“Shower!”

“Can I join you?”

“Uhm sure! Give me a moment?”

“Okay.”

Henry stripped off his clothes, hanging shirt and pants in the closet. Just the thought of sharing the shower hardened his cock, and stroking it hardened it further. When he heard the sink, he entered, naked, his thickness leading the way.

Looking at him, her gaze lowered. “I remember you,” she giggled. “You big bad fat cock,” and her wet hand took hold of it.

He turned off the sink water before undoing her blouse and reaching around her to find the clasp of her bra. That ended up bringing their lips together, the kiss lasting just long enough for him to remove her upper clothes. When she started to move to her knees, he stopped her. “Just a second,” he chuckled, and undid her skirt. Removing it made her as naked as him, and she knelt before him and began sucking his cock. It was a sloppy, drunken suck, but he didn’t mind. At least she managed to avoid teeth. His hands reached down to add to his enjoyment, fondling her always surprising breasts.

But as good as it felt, he realized he wouldn’t be cumming anytime soon, so he urged her to stand and reached past her to start up the shower. Her hand remained on his cock, pulling, while he measured the temperature. Once ready, he guided her into the pouring water, making sure she didn’t trip.

Being taller than him, she leaned on him, over him, while his hands enjoyed soaping her, her back and especially her ass, his soapy fingers sliding between her firm globes and across her slit and anus, which created delightful moans. Her hand remained fixed on his cock, pulling on it, while her other hand helped support her, holding his shoulder.

His hands moved to her front, delighting in cleaning her breasts, almost rough with them, but the slipperiness of the soap prevented it from being too rough. Finally he knelt to work on her legs, hands moving to her thighs and finally to her slit. A washcloth hanging nearby washed off the lingering soap and his mouth moved to that wondrous place where his cock would soon go. Just the thought of it, along with the taste of her, sustained his erection no longer attended by her hand.