Here it is! *bites her nails*
A lot of people demanded an actual fic after I posted a Hollywood!AU gifset on Tumblr, so I tried.
I'm sorry it took longer for me to publish this than I promised. It's been a busy two weeks.
I hope the actual chapters will be longer than this little intro.
Many, many thanks to Mimi/Emmy for beta-reading this :)
Ps: This author has been out of the actual fanfic business for far too long, so don't be shy with feedback, I can only go up from here :)
"This is going to be a disaster."
Clint had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the noise of the full sports bar. It was a rustic little place in a more remote part of L. A, far away from the glitz and glamour of the celebrity hotspots. Upon arriving earlier Phil, his friend and agent, had made a snide remark about his taxi driver wanting to charge him an extra fee for taking him to "the edge of civilization".
Clint really liked the place, though. He might still be a far cry from being an "I can't even do a grocery run without the tabloids being all over my brand of toilet paper" kind of famous, but his last two movies had been quite successful. That being said, he would very much like to have his peanuts, Football and beer in peace, thank you very much.
He downed what was left of his bottle of beer with a sour look. "You know as well as I do that I don't belong in a movie like that."
"And what kind of movie would that be?" Phil asked, not even trying to mask the amusement in his voice. "A highly acclaimed director bringing to life a masterpiece script – a script you loved, may I add – with a cast full of A-listers? Yeah, I have no idea what this has got to do with you."
"You know damn well that's not what I'm talking about," Clint growled. "I don't do romantic movies. This is not a face for romance."
"It's not a romantic movie," Phil replied with an exasperated sigh. "It's a time period gangster piece set during the Prohibition, with just a touch of romance, and you were ecstatic when you auditioned. What could have possibly changed in the three weeks since you signed on?"
"It's just not gonna be what I thought it would. It's not... me. I make serious movies. Low-key movies. Not that glamorous, glittery, beautiful-people, Hollywood... thing."
"I think you might be in the wrong business in the wrong city, my friend." Phil quirked an eyebrow. "So what if this movie is bigger than you expected? Hold on... This isn't about Natasha Romanoff, is it? Are you throwing this tantrum because you don't like your co-star?"
"No," Clint shot back just a tad too quickly then shrugged as he motioned the bartender for another beer. "So what if it is? I think we can at least both agree that I don't belong in a movie next to someone like her. I'm gonna stick out like a sore thumb. Romanoff's magazine covers, billboards and red carpet events. She did like twenty movies last year. Everyone knows her. I'm more the "you know, that one guy from that one movie, what's his face?" type. I had one cover over the whole course of my career and I looked like a freaking serial killer. Which as it turns out wasn't a problem, because my brother was probably the only person on the planet who bought a copy. I'm thirteen years older than her, how's that supposed to turn out? Listen, Phil, you know better than anyone that I worked my sorry ass off to get where I am now. I didn't get to marry myself into the business, then come out of my divorce more successful than ever – don't try and tell me it didn't help that for her first three or so movies her last name was Shostakov. That guy owns half of Hollywood – at least the parts that don't belong to Scientology. I'm not gonna waste twelve weeks I could be spending doing something useful on making her look even better than she already does."
"This is probably the dumbest thing you've ever said - and you raised the bar exceptionally high these past six years." Phil pinched the bridge of his nose like he was fighting an oncoming migraine.
"Even though I'm not sure if you're trying to tell me that you're too good to be in this movie or, what, not attractive enough? Do you think her acting skills won't be able to keep up with yours or are you afraid that you being involved might turn this movie into some weird "Beauty and the Beast" kind of thing?"
"Maybe both," Clint replied dryly, but managed something like a half-smile when a pretty waitress approached their table and placed two new beers in front of them. "Maybe neither. I don't know, okay? It's just that I thought I was signing on for one thing and now it's turning into this whole other thing and I don't see it leading anywhere I'd want to be."
"Okay, Barton, here's the thing." Phil had long ago learned to handle Clint's overall snark and occasional grumpiness, but this was a whole new level of nay-saying even for him. "I could spend all night out here in the middle of nowhere, stroking your ego. I could tell you how you wouldn't have gotten the part if you hadn't nailed it. I could tell you that I've seen Natasha work and that she's a very talented, very disciplined young woman and that together you will make a great movie. I'm your agent, that's my job after all, but the fact of the matter is that you've signed a contract and unless you've somehow come across two shit-loads of money to burn on a forfeit, you're going to start shooting this movie in five weeks. Come hell or high water. So, why am I here now?"
"Sometimes I forget you're not just soft smiles and diplomacy," Clint said with a crooked grin. "Of course I'm not gonna dump the movie. I'm an idiot, not stupid. I'm just an actor in his very late thirties who 's still waiting for that big break, but feels threatened by both his first big project and a much younger woman's success. All I need is a friend who gets drunk with me tonight and occasionally nods his head as I vent." He downed his beer in one, long gulp. "You think you could do that for me?"
Phil huffed in response as he got up from his chair. "Anything for my clients. Go order the next round. I'll be right back."
Clint chuckled when he heard him mutter under his breath as he left. "My feet have been sticking to the floor ever since I got here. I can't wait to check out the toilets..."