The obscurity of Vancouver streets always left Castiel Novak feeling infinitely better than when he started off in the mornings. With seemingly all of Canada's most esteemed actors bleeding out of Toronto, the bustling west coast streets had always felt like a surrogate home for the middle-aged man. Pushing his way through the oncoming traffic of people, trying to duck his head just enough so that he could see and simultaneously not be seen by others, Cas breathed in the salty ocean air, turning up the walkway and entering the white marble building that jutted up into the city skyline, an image of prosperity and a beacon of home.

People dipped their heads in his direction as Cas entered, smiling in the passing and raising their hands in genial greetings as he rushed in, attempting to tamp down his excitement. He knew most of these people by name, the majority of them working for his agent, Crowley. At some point along the line, the ruthless agent had referred to them as his 'demons' and from then on the name had stuck. Cas smiled to himself as he brushed past a huddle of gaping interns who, the moment he had passed them, started whispering to each other furiously.

As Cas made his way to the elevators, sliding into an empty one, he reflected for a moment. It had been years since his debut film, 'Crossroads', and he hadn't looked back once. Sure, people gaped at him and most stuck him on a pedestal the moment they met him, but he was used to it now, not to mention the constant signings, parades of paparazzi and the media circus that rambled on about who he was dating and why it wouldn't work. As the elevator pinged and he stepped into Crowley's mansion of an office floor, Cas laughed to himself, saluting Crowley's secretary and remembering the latest article he'd read that had gone on for three pages explaining how he was actually dating Crowley himself. Of course, the article was decorated with heart-framed, blurry photos of him and his agent walking together.

To be honest, Cas realised, as he sat in the chair across from the empty desk and glanced out at the sweeping city streets below (yes, the agent did, in fact, have a glass office), he hadn't ever had time for relationships. He was always a bit awkward, even if he didn't look it on screen and it was easier to act than act like he needed companionship.

The click of the door handle turning snapped Cas out of his reverie, twisting around in his chair to see Crowley enter, tapping away on his Blackberry and not even noticing his star client.

"Crowley, so help me God, I will drop you as my agent."

"That'll be the day." Crowley continued tapping away for another minute before finally sitting down, sliding his phone into his pocket and clasping his hands on the desk, giving Cas a bored look. "Well?"

"Well, I've flown all the way over here from L.A just to meet with you because you told me that you had some news, yet you still manage to be late and you don't even tell me what the news is, despite the fact that your phone appears to be working!" Cas was suddenly seething now, all of his own decency forgotten.

"Then I'd be lying."

"It's not like you have much trouble doing that anyw- Wait, what?" His tirade cut short, Cas fell flat, the silence deafening.

"While you were sitting on your dainty little ass, my friend, I was, for lack of a better term, dangling you like the bait that you are before countless directors, producers and casting directors. You're a hot commodity, Novak, and don't let anyone tell you differently. Nobody will forget that you did star in Clint's last hurrah."

"Yeah, and look at the credit I got for it. Oh, the Oscars just poured in, didn't they?"

Crowley tutted, waving a pen before Cas' face. "One must not judge another by how many Oscar's they've won, Castiel. I mean, just look at Leo, hm?"

"Yes, and he was turned into one of Hollywood's laughingstocks. You can't Google the man without someone commenting on his lack of Oscars. I heard he's even going on a break!"

"Needless to say, I've found you something that ... piqued my interest. It's something new, like you asked for, but it may be more of a challenge than you were thinking."

Cas was sitting straight up in his chair now, edging forward with each word Crowley said. "I don't care what you say, I want new, Crowley. I need new."

"Nobody's arguing here, but this is a big jump from your usual Cas, and if you need a breather step in between, say, a TV cameo or two, then I'd recommend it." Crowley seemed hesitant, tugging what looked like a script from his bag and clutching it close to his unwrinkled suit. "Any crime show would love to get their hands on you as a villain arc and you know that the fanbase would adore it..."

"Crowley, give me the role."

The man resisted for a moment, but crumbled, handing the script over with a gulp. Cas scrambled forward, tearing the pages from the man's hand, almost shaking with excitement. At the top of the page, in plain lettering, read the name,

The Note

"Ominous," Cas breathed. His interest was visible as he flicked aside the pages, barely listening to Crowley rambling on about the script.

"I'm told that the director wants it to almost appear to look like a buddy cop slash stereotypical romance film, high saturation and bright colours to start off. But it's really a drama film, beautifully scripted. The name is still a work in progress, but it's supposed to be a play on the Notebook. The two characters live together in an apartment; have average lives, blah blah blah, but they both have these dark secrets that the other doesn't know about. The progress of the movie will move it from looking like your typical teenage movie to a really stark and barren ending. It's quite a new idea and I think it's brilliant, really. The part that they want you to play has you cast as the man who killed his entire family in a fit of psychosis. It sounds horribly grim, and I won't lie, parts of it border on slasher-esque. But I'm told you'll have some really ragged moments." Crowley paused to pick at a nail, Cas still entranced by the script. "Nobody wants this to be a flop, Cas and they need some strong leads to carry this."

Cas nodded his head slowly, placing the script in his lap and heaving out a sigh.

"I want to do it. God, I think I've been waiting my whole life for a role like this and I don't even care what I have to do for it." Crowley grinned at the other man's words, running a quick hand through his thinning hair.

"Knew you'd say that. Cheers to a turnaround, hm?"

"Speaking of turnarounds, who's my co-star? Just reading through Chris' lines is making me think that I'll need someone who can be as emotionally deep as him. Ben was fantastic in Third Star, why doesn't someone call him up? Oh, or if he's too busy they could look into Dan, from what I hear he's quite a decent guy to work with. Not to mention that nobody can deny that he certainly showed a new edge to Bond..." Cas trailed off, thinking to himself for a few seconds before snapping back to reality and eyeing Crowley, who was looking nervous.

"What is it?"

"Well, the studio is going all out in the parody-verse. And by that I mean... well, they weren't originally going to go with you at all. They wanted to have the most obscure actors possible and the only reason they went with you is because they believe that, despite your success, you can pull this through."

"What's your point, Crowley? Who's my co-star?"

Crowley paused, biting his lip as he tried to avoid eye contact.

"They're going with a first-time actor, Cas."

OoOoOoO

Dean Winchester had no idea what he was doing there. He was literally in the middle of a room, full of people who all knew what they were doing, carrying lights and cameras and pieces of the set and in the middle of it all he gulped, staring at the camera lens before him as he waited for Jo to tell him to do something.

So far she was the only person he'd met on the set. She seemed nice enough, with faded red jeans, a tight black t-shirt that read, 'It's Metallica, not Youtallica' and an attitude that projected halfway to China. As the Assistant Director, she spent most of her time ordering people around, while Garth, the secondary AD, just trailed her like a weird combination between a lost puppy and a lovesick teen.

"Quiet on set! Dean Winchester's screen test, take one in three, two, ACTION!" The words were bellowed out by none other than Jo's own mother, Ellen, who was staring at Dean expectantly as he coughed, sucking in a breath and settling into character.

He'd never done this before, been someone else. It was new and different and strange and great. This was his chance to be someone other than the regular old Dean who was currently losing a day's pay to chase a pipe dream. Dean smirked quickly at the cameras before he immersed himself fully, relaying the lines with ease. He paced the area, roaming all over the green space, taking up room and falling into character without so much as a second thought. Before he knew it, Ellen's voice was echoing all over again and Dean resurfaced, his mind flickering back to who he was.

Dean Winchester. Mechanic. Estranged movie star brother, Sam. Dead parents.

"How'd I do?" Dean mumbled as Jo came over, clipboard permanently in hand and three pens behind her ear. She practically beamed, reeling herself in and clearing her throat, trying to remain unbiased.

"Uh... you fit in really well. I think you'd be a good addition, but we have to review all the screen tests." Jo gave him a wink and scribbled something onto the board.

"So I have an actual chance?" Dean scratched his head, glancing around in awe. This might not be a one shot attempt?

"We'll see," Jo choked out, waving Garth away to check up on the camera ops.

"How many more screen tests should I do?"

"Oh honey, with a test like that one you don't need to lift another finger. We'll call you, but I really have to check up on the footage," Jo turned, dashing away and hurling a last, "Great job today, Dean!" over her shoulder.

This is it, Dean thought to himself. This is my chance to do something right.

OoOoOoO

"No, definitely not." Cas glared at the monitor pointedly, eyeing Dean Winchester's face dully. "I will not perform beside him. He doesn't know the nuances, steps or ways of this job and he will butcher this film."

"I don't know, Cas, he seemed... well, he seemed like he'd been doing it for years when I watched the test." Jo Harvelle crossed her arms, striking a pose as she eyed Castiel, who was sulking in a corner. The two had worked together before, on a mockumentary project that had been rather tastefully produced by Zemeckis and directed by Ellen. The pair of Harvelles worked almost exclusively together, always by each other's sides for almost every project they'd done so far.

"Yes, Jo, he seemed like he'd been doing it for years. But he hasn't been. I have and I can do this part. I'll bet he doesn't even know what your job is."

"Actually, I told him what I did, so you can stick that up your ass, Novak."

"Love you too, Harvelle," Cas rolled his eyes, stepping forward and taking the headphones from Jo, indicating she replay the screen test as he slid the huge things over his head.

"—Winchester's screen test, take one in three, two, ACTION!"

Dean looked up at the camera, right into Cas' eyes and for a moment, his breath stilled. The man looked so serious, green eyes piercing through the screen and into Cas' head. He shivered, watching as the wannabe actor steadied himself, collecting his thoughts as he looked down.

And then he changed, head rising up slowly, tipped just enough to the side that it felt off centre. He didn't want to say it, but it was pulling Cas in, something about his persona just clinging to a small part of Cas' mind and not letting go. The first line was delivered swiftly, followed by a beat of silence. It was a monologue and yet he was pausing between the lines. It was practically a law that you didn't pause between each and every line in a monologue, but this? This was beautiful. It pulled you in and yet it still kept you at arm's length, somehow simultaneously giving you everything and nothing at the same time. Cas was thirsting for more and before he realised, he'd watched three loops of the screen test and would have watched more had Jo not shook his arm, a smug smile decorating her face.

"It's different," Cas grunted, trying not to make eye contact with the blonde.

"It's exactly what you need to take you down a damn notch, Castiel Novak. This kid is fresh meat and who knows? Maybe you'll end up just being the spices that accent him," Jo glanced back at the looping screen test, zooming in on Dean's face thoughtfully. "He's going to be huge, Cas, and you'd better hitch your buggy to the right horse."

OoOoOoO

The call came in at three in the morning. It was standard practice for Cas, whenever he was expecting a call for a role, to wander around whichever apartment he was staying in with a Bluetooth permanently attached to his ear. It pissed Crowley off to no end ("If you got a call for a role, I would tell you!") but he preferred hearing the news himself, no third party. It was also an unsaid principle that any time he wasn't on break, he wouldn't sleep. He had never planned it, it just seemed to happen. Cas was always too busy rehearsing or learning lines or waiting for the phone to ring and sleep evasion seemed natural to him now.

Cas didn't even let the phone ring twice before he was tapping the button at the side of his head and sipping his coffee, mumbling out a, "Cas here," while he glanced at the clock.

"Cas! Glad to catch you up and about. But you're always like that, aren't you?"

"Usually. When's shooting start, Jo?"

"Tomorrow."

Cas practically spat out his coffee, spluttering and coughing as he choked it down. "TOMORROW? What the hell, Jo, when do you need me?"

"Relax, we're filming most of the scenes local and the rest will be later on. The movie will take roughly ten weeks, give or take two for workaround and you have to be here at six for a rundown. You know your way to the studio, right?" Jo teased, causing Cas to roll his eyes and sip his coffee, ignoring the comment. His favourite apartment was in Vancouver and he spent all of his off time there, learning the city. Jo knew this, of course, and the two had bonded over a mutual love for Gastown.

"Right. Anyway, we went with Winchester, yeah? So he's going to be around for a while and I need to know that you two can be compatible. The whole movie depends on this, Cas."

"Are you sure about him?"

"Cas, we've been over this," Jo sighed, and for a moment Cas felt bad for making her life so difficult over one (quite large) casting call.

"I'll play nice, Jo."

"Thanks, Cas, you're a doll. Anyway, Garth's calling the kid up, so I need to make sure he doesn't end up somehow halting production. See you bright and early for a rundown, ciao!"

Cas tapped the Bluetooth again and sank into his chair wearily. It was happening. This was it. Cas took another slow, luxurious sip of his coffee, effectively draining it.

He just prayed that the Winchester kid wouldn't ruin this.

A/N: There are a few references that I felt like clearing up just in case anyone didn't understand.

1) Clint's last hurrah isn't really mentioning any particular movie, but Clint (Eastwood) has kind of been going off the deep end lately so *shrugs*

2) The reference to Leonardo DiCaprio is, of course, referring to the fact that he's been a bit dry in the whole Oscar-winning area

3) A screen test is just when an actor/actress is given lines to recite in order to tell if they're suitable for the role. It's sometimes done with other actors, but just as often done alone.

4) Zemeckis is referring to Robert Zemeckis, director of Back to the Future and Who Framed Roger Rabbit

5) Vancouver is known for having a portion of it called Gastown, which is actually a fantastic area full of good food, a steam-powered clock and cobblestone streets.