Summary: Welcome to Hollywood, California. In a business where acting is commonplace, Allen Walker hopes that no one will peel off his mask. But his past will catch up eventually; his happily-ever-after was never meant to be. AU, Yullen, rated M for language.
Pairings: Kanda/Allen. Side pairings being considered.
Rating: M, for language.
A/N: Um.. I know.. I'm supposed to be updating Experimental, Irreplaceable..... but this plotbunny kicked out the other one and wouldn't leave me alone. *shakes fist at Skip Beat!* Experimental should be finished in a few days though. I apologize to all to waited so long for an update, only to get a new story instead. :'D I will make it extra long to compensate, just you wait and see!
As a poor excuse, I'm just now starting to work on college apps. The reason behind this is in some rants on my DeviantART (which I also haven't updated in a long, long time, aside form journal entries), but I'm finishing the last of my Finals testing tomorrow. It's 11:19 PM right now. I wasn't studying. 8)
(It's okay, don't worry, I never study and I haven't failed yet.)
So. Without further ado, let's kickstart this piece of un-beta'd crap so I can go to bed and then work on Experimental!
Disclaimer: I do not own DGM. I wish I did. Graduation present ftw please? I also do not live in or in any way near Hollywood/Los Angeles, so. Please tell me if my depiction is incorrect. :) (On another note, I also do not watch Gossip Girl, so I have no idea what it's about. XD)
Let The White Heart Beat
Take One: My Twisted Soul
=(+)=
August 28, 2009
Today, after meeting with the president of my new production agency (a result of last week's audition), I'll be meeting the cast of my next movie for the first time. I don't know many of them, but I saw Junior's and Li Li's names on the list. I know Junior from another movie I'm in, so I know it will be entertaining at least. Li Li is always a nice girl. We don't talk much, but I see her at some events quite often.
Other than that, I don't think I'll get along with the rest of the cast. I don't even know why I agreed to begin with. The plot is so childish and morbid. But with society the way it is lately, of course they'd like it.
This driver is a pain in the ass. His Christmas carols are off-key and off-season. It's nowhere near December, dumbass! Stop howling like a wolf and just concentrate on doing your job!
=(+)=
The taxi cab pulls up to a stop on the curb of a busy street. People continue to walk by outside the car, unaware of the person sitting inside. Such a thing was commonplace in Hollywood, California.
"Here we are, sonny. That'll be 34 dollars 'n 58 cents."
Closing the notebook, the young man tucks it under one arm and climbs out of the back seat of the car. He reaches into his back pocket and extracts a twenty, a ten, and a five dollar bill from the wallet and hands it over to the mustached driver.
He smiles.
"Keep the change. Thank you for the ride."
Allen Walker watches as the cab pulls away from the curb and heads towards its next destination, probably another lazy bum of a celebrity who can't bear to walk two blocks to their house. He shakes his head, brushing a few strands of peroxide blonde hair from his face and slides the notebook into his duffel back. Turning, he faces the nearly 20-story building, its front emblazoned with a darkly colored sign reading THE BLACK ORDER.
One of the largest and most well-known production agencies in California, The Black Order is just as their name suggested—they specialize in finding jobs for their talents in the darker side of entertainment. From what Allen heard, most of the talents at The Black Order are.. relatively normal.
Or so he hopes.
Taking a deep breath, he pushes open the glass doors and makes his way towards the reception desk. There's a pair of young women working there, no older than 20, from what he can see. As soon as they see him, they stop what they're doing and stare. Slowly, a bright pink blush creeps up onto both of their faces and they turn away hurriedly, whispering to each other.
"Oh my God—is that.. Allen Walker?!"
"It can't be! He can't possibly be joining this place, I refuse to believe it!"
"But—but if he is joining, doesn't that mean we'll see him more often? Up close and.. personal.. oh, dear lord."
If they really think they're whispering, they need to get their ears checked.
"Um.. Excuse me?"
One of the receptionists snaps around, hands flying to her hair in a wasted attempt to fix it. "Y-yes?" H-how may I help you?"
"Hey, that's not fair!" The other hisses lowly.
"Life's not fair." The first one shoots back, flipping her hair back discreetly.
"Ah, well." Allen decides that it's a better idea to pretend nothing happened. "I have an appointment with The Black Order's president. Could you direct me to his office?"
"Oh, um, he's.. kind of busy right now. He says someone will drop by the lobby to pick you up when he's done."
Che. That just sounds like an excuse to make me sit here like eye-candy for you two idiots. No thanks.
"I'm really in a bit of a hurry, so I'd like to just meet him in his office. It's already past my appointment time, anyway."
"No, no, we're not allowed to let anyone interrupt him—"
"That's for his secretary to decide, isn't it?" Allen leans against the counter, trying his hardest to keep a smile on. "And you two are just receptionists, so if you don't mind, I'd like some directions to Mr. Li's office."
They can either do as he asked and lose their precious eye-candy, or they can refuse, and Allen can report their lack of responsibility to the president during their meeting. Obviously they still have their wits about them as they choose to grudgingly direct him towards the top of the building. Nevertheless, they didn't stop admiring and staring at him the whole time.
Morons.
Allen turns and sets off at a brisk pace to the nearest elevator. He's never one to show up late to anything, so he hurries towards his destination as quickly as he can. As it is, he has already been held back by traffic, so hurrying wouldn't make much of a difference. Then again, perhaps the president wouldn't notice.
The trip up didn't seem to be fast enough, but Allen knows that it's just his anxiety speaking. An escalator is probably better—at least he canrun up those. Though if he were to calculate how long it took to find and climb a flight of stairs compared to how long it took an elevator to go up that same floor, the elevator would most certainly be faster. Using the stairs would just give him a sense of accomplishment.
Before he knew it, the elevator reaches the top of the building with a 'ding'. Allen sighs, rubbing at his temples and fixing his slight frown, twisting his lips into a customary polite smile just before the doors slide open.
Two middle-aged men were waiting outside, and he greets them briefly before exiting the elevator. Allen had made it a habit of his to greet people, even if he didn't know them. It makes lasting impressions most of the time and was what had gotten him into his debut movie. They wanted a gentleman to play the supporting male, and they got one.
At that point in time, Allen had never thought about re-entering showbiz, he had decided to get a job and save up money to go back to school. Being presented with a chance to act in a soon-to-be box office hit just seemed like the perfect way to start his savings. He had no idea that he would become a celebrity because of that one movie, and would immediately be invited to take part in similar romances.
But getting new jobs wasn't a bad thing, even if it was in showbiz. He wasn't completely new to the business—he just hadn't been back in a while. While the much-needed break was highly appreciated, he felt that it was making him lose his touch.
Well, that was fine. He was signing into The Black Order so he could start a new life. There's no point in carrying over his previous work experiences if he's trying to start anew. His biggest worry is that someone might end up recognizing him from his earlier years of acting. It's not that he's afraid of something like that happening.. but he isn't completely proud of his work back then either.
Even before joining The Black Order he was involved with some pretty dark dramas and horror films. He thought he loved it, but when he looked back on it.. it was a rather depressing time in his life.
Perhaps he was making a mistake in joining The Black Order, seeing as they also specialized in dark entertainment. But, then again, if it didn't work out, he could leave and find another production agency to join.
Raising a gloved hand, Allen knocks on the mahogany wood underneath the plaque reading 'President Komui Li'.
Hm.. is Li Li related to the president?
"Come in!"
After receiving the go-ahead, Allen turns the brass doorknob and pushes on the door.
..Nothing happens.
He pushes again, harder.
Still nothing.
Frowning, he knocks again. "Uh, sir? I.. can't open the door."
"Ah, there's a little obstruction. Just a moment."
There's the sound of something being shuffled and shoved around, exaggerated sounds of effort and strain, before the voice said he could come in again.
So again Allen tries to open the door, but it still doesn't budge. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and not blow up at the unknown situation beyond this slab of wood.
One violent shove later and Allen Walker yelps as he is buried under stacks and stacks of papers. Never had he imagined a room could be filled with this many sheets of processed tree pulp.
"I'm sorry! I haven't had time to clean up in a long time, it's such a mess in here.. are you alright?"
Allen looks up at the dark-haired Asian man as he wades through the sea of paper towards the boy at the door. His black-rimmed glasses rest on the bridge of his nose, eyebrows furrowed in worry. A white beret is perched innocently on top of his sleek hair.
"I-I'm fine, I think," Allen replies once he is able to, after getting his head above the stretch of endless white.
"I didn't think it would get this deep. Oh! There's much more room at my desk, over here!"
It took a while, but with Komui's help and Allen's merciless shoveling, they make it to the one brown spot in the land of white faxes, memos, and blank forms.
"Hmm. I'll have to get my assistant to clean up someday." Komui sighs, scribbling a quick reminder onto a yellow sticky note and putting it on his lampshade.
"Well then, Allen Walker. Welcome to The Black Order!"
=(+)=
It's livelier than I thought it'd be. The receptionists are idiots, though. There's no need to blush and get all gooey over someone like me. They may as well do that over every newcomer talento that ever existed. It's so stupid.
I guess the auditions reflect the company. So fucking easy, even a child could pass it. Well, technically, a child did pass it. Thank god they didn't ask for parental permission. But why? I put my real age on the application form, aren't they supposed to wonder if I got permission or not? I bet they don't even care, they just want people to sign up and get to work so they can earn money. Fucking rotten people, all they want is profit.
…
Can't this bloody taxi go any faster? I'm going to be late for the cast meeting! Fucking driver! I shouldn't even pay you, taking a long time on purpose just to squeeze some extra money out of me. Fuck, wake up already!
…
I hate Hollywood. Can't bloody breathe, there's so much fucking smoke and pollution. Goddamned stupid people, don't give a damn about anything but living in luxury. Shit, it wouldn't kill them to just stop driving their gas guzzling cars and look around for a minute. Look at what the bloody fuck they're doing to this city!
I swear, as soon as I'm 18, I'm moving out. I just can't stay here any longer than that.
=(+)=
"I'm sorry for being late!"
Allen immediately dips into a bow, his breathing slightly strained as he had just sprinted into the studio. The stupid cab driver was too busy listening to music to notice the changing lights, not even hearing the car horns from behind because of the blaring notes. It took a little prodding from Allen to get him moving again, and by then it was already too late.
Still, he refuses to use that as an excuse, and only hopes that the director will go easy on him. He is, after all, a "newcomer" in show business.
When he receives no response, Allen tips his head up slightly, and his breath almost stops at the person in front of him.
Well.. today must be my bloody lucky day. Could it get any worse?
Cross Marian regards the young actor silently with a single amber eye, the other hidden under a strange half-mask. He adjusts his glasses and sits up, surveying the rest of the cast members with a fleeting glance. Frowning, he sighs in frustration, though whether it's because Allen arrived late or because of something else, the boy doesn't know.
"Alright, kid. The only reason I'm not threatening to fire you is because you're a newbie, and there's no other fucking actor who is willing or has the ability to pull off the role you have," he growls tersely, shoving a finger in Allen's surprised face. "However, that does not mean that I will hesitate to make your life a living hell if you dick around. Got that?"
"Er," Allen swallows and straightens up, giving the man a small nod. "Yes sir. It won't happen again."
"Glad we understand each other." Cross stands up and nudges the boy aside. "Well then, now that we're all finally present and accounted for, let's stop the chatter and begin the script reading."
Allen scuttles over to the empty seat between Linali Li and a dark-haired Japanese male, offering both of them a small smile before sitting down.
"I'm Li Li, but Linali is fine." Linali smiled joyfully, extending her hand for a shake. "The redhead idiot behind me is Lavi, and the grouch over there is Kanda. Nice to work with you, Allen."
Allen only smiles, taking her hand and placing a kiss on the back of it.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Linali."
The woman giggles but is otherwise unaffected by his action. Good. Allen really doesn't want to act with another copy of Rou Fa, even if she's as sweet as can be.
Another hand presents itself abruptly in Allen's face from the seat next to Linali's. Lavi grins.
"Wanna kiss mine too?"
"Not a chance!"
Allen laughs along with the redhead. They've met before, so there's no offense taken on either side.
"Who'd want to kiss your hand? That's fucking disgusting." The man known as Kanda scoffs, flipping a page of the script in his hands.
Allen resists the urge to roll his eyes at this behavior; it's rather common in the business, and he's been through it before. He knows how to deal with it, and offers a handshake anyway, despite that he knows the man will probably refuse.
"It's a joy to meet you too, Kanda."
Kanda stares at the proffered limb as though it's the sole remaining carrier of the Black Plague itself. His nose scrunches and he sniffs indignantly, turning away.
"Che. I don't shake hands with freaks."
Allen was not, however, expecting something like that.
Why, that bloody little—
"Be nice, Kanda. No picking on Allen, okay?" Linali smiles unperturbed. Kanda must always been like this, then. "You can do it on set as Rex. Wouldn't want Cross to get on your case about it, right?"
"Hell yeah," Kanda mutters rather unenthusiastically. "I get to tell off the world's most popular new young actor. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo."
"Hey, Kanda, this is not Gossip Girl. Shut the hell up and pay attention," Cross barks through the makeshift megaphone. A handful of the extras at the table giggle, particularly the females, because of Kanda's irate glare. "You too, ladies."
They stop immediately.
"Much better. I understand that most of you are quite young, but we're all adults here—put your hand down, Walker, we know you're not legal yet—so I expect all of you to behave like adults. Granted, some foolery is fine for lightening up the mood. We've got a pretty dark one on our hands, after all."
Raking a gloved hand through his long crimson hair, Cross tosses his copy of the script onto the table and continues speaking.
"Basically, it's a story of twisted revenge, a screwed up love complex with an ex-lover, a childhood friend, and a sadist thrown into the mix. Most of the lines are improvised on the spot; they won't be the same as the original movie. The plot will be similar.. but obviously that will be slightly different as well." Cross pauses, eyeing the seated people over his glasses.
"We are not remaking Sinking Darkness. We are filming a movie that will surpass anything that Sinking Darkness is and could ever be. Any more questions?"
And Kanda, being the superb bastard that he is, waves a rolled up script in the air, not even waiting to be called on (well, it's not like they're still in elementary school).
"Yeah, I got one. Um, why do you act like you're so fucking awesome even though you're not?"
Unfazed, Cross shoots an answer right back at him.
"Don't flatter me, that's just how you see yourself in other people, Jap. Next!"
=(+)=
That shitty jackass—mother fucking bastard! How dare he call me a freak?! I even took the time to put on makeup so my scar wouldn't scare those spineless idiots away! Alright, so my hair is naturally white, but he shouldn't know that, and I already dyed it brown and re-bleached it. What the fuck is his problem?! My god I want to just strangle him with that hair of his! Such a bloody pain in the ass, throughout the whole reading, all those stupidly snide remarks—though they were rather amusing—it gets on my nerves!
Hell.. thank god it was only script reading today. I don't think I would've been able to handle acting after he.. called me a.. freak…
Fuck, I want to kill him all over again.
It's going to suck in the first few scenes with Rex.. we don't have much dialogue together, and I doubt he'd say anything to someone he obviously hates, even if he is an actor. I'd say it's fine with me, though. I can blame it on him for not being able to get into character since he won't be acting seriously.
So fucking simple to kick someone out of their role. He doesn't know who he's dealing with, that Yuu Kanda.
I'll make him wish he was never a jackass to anyone. Although I really don't want to get into my role that much.. I think I'll have a lot of fun torturing Rex.
Now if only that Cross would let me do those things...
=(+)=
The pen scratches across paper, black lines contrasting deeply with the starch white sheet...
He reaches the end of the page and sets the pen down, pushing back in his chair...
He closes the notebook...
He turns off the lamp...
He goes to bed, his heart heavy with self-loathing.
For feeling such hatred towards a man he's only just met...
He is disgusted with himself.
Tomorrow will be a long, long day for Allen Walker.