1920 (Saturday September 29th, 2012): AU. Noatak, known to the world as Amon, is a world-class face in the silent-movie business. He's just scored a lead in a new film, and found much to his chagrin that a novice, a fresh face from Hollywood will be his co-star in the film: namely, Korra. Tarrlok guest-stars as Amon's personal manager, Asami is Korra's. Sparks fly immediately when they meet, and though their movie is a love story, trouble brews behind the scenes; can they keep their hatred of the other off the screen?
Written for the sixth day of Amorra Week, based on the prompt 1920.
A cigarette poised between his fingertips, Amon exhaled a cloud of smoke as he leaned back in his chair, Tarrlok currently across the dining room taking a call from Sato Studios' president. The restaurant was on the quiet side, Amon glad he had chosen one where the common people wouldn't press in around him and demand autographs and pictures; taking another drag of his cigarette, Amon's eyes surveyed the restaurant shrewdly, some of his past co-stars sitting at other tables.
Lin Beifong was the most predominant of those present, Amon recalling the last movie they'd been in together; it had been about the Great War, and Lin had played a war-hardened mother mistrustful of a single, enemy soldier: namely himself. The romance had been rather bland in his opinion, but then again she wasn't really his type; a little on the cold side, anti-social, and generally hostile, Amon could safely say he was glad when the movie production ended.
"Good news?" Amon lifted his face to view Tarrlok who had since appeared moments before.
"You've been given the lead, as if you ever had any doubts," Tarrlok's eyes rolled though his lips were upturned in a smile. "Your leading co-star is a nobody, though; Mr. Sato said she and her manager would be meeting us here for lunch." Amon's lips pursed at the news; it was well-known across the acting community that he outwardly refused to work with amateurs, had even been known to drop contracts and pictures because of it.
"Now before you start freaking out and trying to get out of it, why don't you give her a shot? Mr. Sato said they'd be here any minute," Tarrlok tried to placate Amon, the actor's eyes rolling though he reluctantly acquiesced with a silent nod. Tarrlok released a deep breath of relief as his fingers raked through his combed-back hair, his eyes scouring the restaurant for any sign of their potential associates.
"Ah, I'd recognize you anywhere. I'm sorry we're so late." Two sets of eyes rounded on Asami, her lips painted a crimson color and her dark beige dress belted at the waist. "This is Korra, my client," Asami indicated the woman beside her. "My name is Asami Sato, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintances," Asami held out her hand for Tarrlok to shake. In truth, he was a little preoccupied with how young she was; Hiroshi had neither mentioned her age nor the fact that she was his daughter when they'd spoken on the phone. It took him a moment to compose himself before sliding his signature smile into place and warmly grasping her hand; "It's a pleasure, Miss Sato," Tarrlok stood as he shook her hand, Amon smashing the end of his cigarette into the ashtray before standing himself and looking Korra over.
"It's such an honor to meet you! I've seen all of your movies," Korra began a bit nervously, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip as she waited for Amon to say something, anything.
"You and half of the country. Please, sit," Amon didn't bother with pleasantries, and his dismissal of Korra's praise created a deep frown on her face. She did as he bid her, though with a little irritation; Tarrlok's head snapped towards him with a disapproving look, though Asami's voice garnered his attention before Amon could outwardly react towards him.
"Korra, allow me to be perfectly blunt: I do not work with amateurs or those new to the business, however close to the management she may be," Amon's eyes lingered briefly on Asami before finding Korra's. "I do not like those who join this business out of some misguided attempt at fame or money," he added in a quiet undertone, Korra's hand clenching tightly until he finished speaking and she glared at him openly.
"I worked to get where I am! How dare you accuse me and presume to know my intentions!" Korra practically shouted with indignation, Amon's hand cupping his chin as he watched her reaction. Tarrlok and Asami's conversation abruptly ended with Korra's raised voice, Asami's eyebrows narrowing as Tarrlok's hand ran over his face in frustration.
"Korra, sweetheart. We're in public, and you're making a scene," Asami gently placed a hand on Korra's shoulder, Korra trembling under her touch though reining in her anger with great difficulty. "You should really learn how to be more delicate and tactful, Amon. I don't appreciate you upsetting my client," Asami's eyes were narrowed dangerously in his direction, Amon admittedly a little amused by the display.
"Can you fault me for speaking the truth, Miss Sato? I have yet to see an amateur perform half as well as a seasoned veteran," Amon's implication was not lost on Asami, whose cheeks colored from both embarrassment and outrage.
"Perhaps if you gave them a chance they'd prove you wrong," Asami stated through grit teeth.
"Fine, you think I can't act as well as you can! I'll just have to prove you wrong!" Korra spoke convincingly, her blue eyes shining as she stared at Amon directly. He didn't, couldn't, intimidate her, and she'd prove him wrong!
"You certainly don't lack for spirit," Amon conceded a very small point, Tarrlok finally intervening if only to ensure Amon didn't completely piss off the boss' daughter and they both lost their jobs.
"Miss Sato, allow me to apologize on my brother's behalf. He rarely knows when is best to speak and stay quiet." Tarrlok's gaze moved from Asami's to Amon as his eyes hardened; Amon understood that look: he'd be getting an earful from Tarrlok, not that it ever dissuaded him from speaking as he pleased.
"There is a time and place for speaking as you did this afternoon, Noatak, and that was most certainly not it!" Tarrlok's voice was annoyed, reprimanding, and only slightly louder than normal. "Don't you realize you could have jeopardized our jobs? Where would you go if Sato Studios cut you loose? Cabbage Corp Productions already said they won't take you back, and most of the other companies have crumbled," Tarrlok pulled at his hair until it was mussed, long strands falling over his shoulders. "You don't even care, do you? To hell with our means of keep ourselves alive. Piss on our mother and father's legacy-"
"Don't bring them into this, brother," Amon warned him with a hard look, Tarrlok sighing in defeat. Amon was as hard-headed as a rock; it would take someone far more convincing to coerce him of anything he didn't already believe.
"Fine, but you're going to work with this Korra, and I don't want to hear any complaints about it. Otherwise, you can not only find yourself a new studio, but also a new agent." Tarrlok then stormed out of the room, Amon watching his retreating back with a contemplative gaze.
Maybe he had been a tad hard on her, but he could see the lights in her eyes, the awe; she came to Hollywood to make it big: become famous, get rich quick. He'd seen so many follow that same path, and he'd been able to predict which ones would do so before they did it. It never failed, much to his chagrin.
Leaning back on the couch, Amon released a puff of smoke from his cigarette, his eyes closing; he'd give her a shot, but the second she passed the point of no return, he'd be gone faster than she could blink.
Walking onto set for her first day, Korra was filled with jitters, Asami's hand reassuring on her back; "You'll be fine, Korra. You're amazing." Asami's smile was contagious, and Korra found the same expression on her own lips a few moments later.
"Thanks. I'm sure Tall, Dark, and Gloomy will criticize every chance he gets," Korra sighed, her fingers pushing through her bangs.
"He probably will," Asami chuckled at Korra's joke, the director finally spying his new star and beckoning her towards him with a finger.
"Get her to make-up and wardrobe. Shooting starts in twenty!" The director's assistants suddenly whisked her away, Asami waving as Korra disappeared behind the set.
"One...two...three...ACTION!" the director shouted, Korra swallowing away her nervousness before traipsing onto the set, her steps slow and measured as Amon rounded the corner in a veritable sprint: his steps inevitably leading him directly at her. Try as Korra might, he bumped into her less-than-gracefully; she bent down to help him gather the scattered documents that had been previously in his briefcase, the camera coming close when their eyes finally met and they both paused for a moment.
Despite their disastrous meeting a few days prior, Korra couldn't help but notice his handsome features; if he wasn't such a jerk, she'd think him rather attractive. They both stood once the documents in his briefcase were all replaced, Korra's hand toying with the handle of her purse before Amon spoke. It, of course, wouldn't be heard in the movie itself, but it had to look convincing enough to be real; "Ah, allow me to apologize. I should have watched where I was going." He paused in his speech, Korra shocked when she noticed he actually looked nervous with his next line. He's a good actor, despite everything else, Korra conceded internally before Amon continued. "How about I take you to dinner? Tonight, eight o'clock?" The earnest tone in his voice melted Korra like butter, and she had to consciously remind herself to speak.
"O-oh. That isn't necessary. It was just an accident!" Korra offered with a sheepish and nervous smile, Amon attempting to hide his crestfallen reaction though Korra noticed it, as did the camera. "Where did you have in mind?" Korra finally asked with a genuine smile, her hand lifting to push a few strands of hair behind her ear.
The smile on Amon's face was so light and genuine Korra could have sworn her heart stopped for just a second; "Tony's, a nice little Italian bistro down that way." Amon pointed over Korra's shoulder before his lips tugged into a frown. "I do have to go though," Amon punctuated his statement with a glance down at his wristwatch; "Until tonight," Amon inclined his head before striding past her with a smile.
"CUT! Good job, you two," the director complimented, Korra exhaling a sigh of relief; "Costume change!"
"They're rather good together, if I might say so," Tarrlok stood next to Asami, his gloved hands crossed in front of him.
"Yes, they are. I'm a little surprised, to be honest," Asami answered with a soft smile, her wavy hair pulled up and out of her face. "We might just pull this off."
"I don't know...I wouldn't give Amon too much credit." Tarrlok's smile was guilty and small, and Asami couldn't contain her laughter.
"I guess we'll see, huh?"
Amon touched her shoulder before she could take another step, Korra turning to him with a sad frown; "I have to go." She tried to push his arm away, but he stepped closer to her, his free arm rounding her waist and pulling her closer. The camera panned closer to Korra's face, her teeth biting her lower lip to keep the tears from falling down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry." Korra finally shoved Amon away, the heart-wrenching, pain-filled expression tearing Korra's heart to shreds; grasping her suitcase handle, Korra then exited the room.
The scene cut to the street, cars driving by and splashing the few puddles in the pothole-filled roads; a light drizzle was still dotting the sidewalks and streets, Korra's steps long and hurried. Predictably, Amon then appeared on the street, his expression determined and his eyes glossy.
"Wait!" he shouted upon seeing Korra's silhouette further away, Korra's steps only growing longer as she tried to hurry and make it to the main street to hail a cab. He finally caught up, his chest heaving as he held on to her upper arm for dear life; "Don't go," he pleaded, Korra's eyes downcast and her lips stained in a dark frown.
"I have to go," Korra finally looked up at him, silent tears beginning their treks down her cheeks.
"No you don't!" Amon shook his head furiously, both of his hands now grasping her shoulders as he looked into her eyes. "I love you," he finally admitted in a broken tone, a single tear finally appearing at the corner of his eye before dripping to the ground like a raindrop. "I can't lose you. Ever." Korra's face felt hot from unshed tears, her lips trembling until he finally gazed into her eyes once again.
"I love you too." Those words were terrifying for some reason, Korra's spine feeling more like jelly than bone under her skin; they were also the only incentive Amon needed. His lips covered hers in a deep, heartfelt kiss, her suitcase falling to the wet sidewalk forgotten as her arms rounded his neck and she stood on her tiptoes to reach him better.
He parted from her, a few of his bangs sticking to her forehead; his breath was visible in the cold air, Korra's warm hands tracing the bone patterns of his cheeks, ghosting over his eyes, his nose, and finally, his lips. "I'm sorry." It was barely audible, Korra too choked-up to speak properly as Amon released her and she knelt down to retrieve her suitcase.
She could scarcely look at him for fear that she would break down; "Marry me." Korra froze where she stood a few feet away, her eyes wide and bloodshot as her head swiveled around to face him.
"That was such a beautiful scene, Korra. I was in tears the whole time," Asami told her, a handkerchief still clutched in her hand tightly. "I have to wonder though...you and Amon. I haven't heard about any fights lately. Are you...?" Asami's words trailed off in implication, Korra looking up from the newspaper clipping of her upcoming movie.
"No! Of course not! I still have Mako, remember? It's just acting, Asami," Korra reassured the other girl, Asami nodding though still not convinced.
"Ah, well. I better go. My father wants to see me in his office for some reason. See you at the premiere tonight, Korra!" Asami waved at her friend before vanishing into the hallway, Korra leaning forward on her elbows and sighing as her hands hid her face from the mirror.
She loved Mako, right? He was loyal, handsome, sweet, and thoughtful...everything she could ever want and more. The thought of Amon in the final scene made her weak in the knees, her throat making it difficult to breathe; she knew he probably thought she was the dirt beneath his imported-Italian shoes, but he had effectively stolen her heart and kept it with him at all times.
"He doesn't care anyway. I'll forget him after this movie anyway," Korra finally looked up in the mirror with a determined expression, her fist hitting her open palm.
"So, it wasn't as terrible as you thought, was it?" Tarrlok was currently leaning against Amon's dresser, Amon fixing his tie in the long, wall-length mirror.
"I wouldn't have stayed to do the movie if I thought so," Amon stated flatly, his eyes surveying his final appearance for the premiere in less than an hour.
"Cut the act, Noatak. You have feelings for her, don't you?" Tarrlok had always been perceptive about these kinds of things, and Amon found himself scowling in his brother's direction.
"That is none of your concern, Tarrlok," Amon finally muttered irritably, Tarrlok's triumphant smirk irritating Amon even more.
"Never thought I'd see you go soft," Tarrlok stated with a wicked grin, Amon walking past him before punching him in the gut. "I deserved that." Tarrlok doubled over from the pain, though the force of it was hardly as powerful as it could have been.
The flashes of cameras nearly blinded Amon as he stepped out of his limousine, Korra's arm on his; "This way, you two!" a few photographers shouted, Korra leveling a dazzling smile in their direction while Amon's lips tweaked into a slight smirk.
She released his arm the moment they entered the lobby of the theater, her eyes looking through the crowd; "Mako!" she practically yelled, a young man smiling at her before politely making his way through the crowd of people assembled. Amon watched her go, his smirk disappearing slowly. He should have known she'd have someone; she was so young, so vibrant and beautiful, it wouldn't make sense if she were single.
He didn't have long to contemplate it, though; the movie's director ushered them into the theater with a loud voice, Amon's footsteps slow as Tarrlok appeared at his side. It was clear Tarrlok noticed something was amiss, but he chose to remain silent for now; Amon would thank him for his discretion later.
The end scene was harder to endure than he thought; his heart twisted and squirmed painfully in his chest, his fingers fidgeting as he finally stood up when he could take no more. The lobby was void of people, the silence welcoming as Amon reached for his cigarettes and lit one mechanically. Breathing in and out slowly, Amon's eyes closed; "Hey, is something the matter?"
He should have known she'd notice him leaving; "Nothing that concerns you, Korra," Amon tried to sound nasty, though all he ended up sounding was tired. When she didn't leave, he continued, "Why are you out here with me when you should be in there with him?" Amon then asked pointedly, Korra at first shocked though it soon turned into anger.
"Well excuse me for caring about you!" The statement was obviously not what Korra had intended to say, and she threw her hands up over her mouth a moment later.
"Care about me? Don't be a fool," Amon rebuffed with a disparaging tone, Korra's fist clenching as she stepped closer, her blue eyes staring up at his unflinchingly.
"I hate you!" she finally told him tersely, her eyes filling with tears inexplicably. The statement met with silence from Amon, his cigarette forgotten as it fell from his fingers and onto the floor, the heel of his shoe stepping out the fire.
"Hate me, do you? Good, that makes this so much more simple," Amon's voice was suddenly desperate and hoarse, his arm reaching around the back of her neck and dragging her up to meet his lips harshly. He could taste her tears on his lips, the salty flavor tinged with her own unique blend of spices and sweets that he could still recall from their kiss on-set.
She pushed him away angrily, her lips now swollen and her eyes flashing dangerously; his eyes were full of melancholy, but that did little to abate her rising anger. "How dare you! You think you can treat me like this and then expect me to fall into your arms?" she fought to keep her voice from shouting, her chest heaving. "Ugh! I HATE YOU!" she finally shouted, Amon's lips pursing.
"I believe you made that abundantly clear a moment ago, Korra," Amon turned away from her, Korra's hand grasping his wrist tightly and wrenching him around to face her.
Without speaking, she pressed a harsh kiss to his lips, his eyes opening wide as he froze; "K-korra?" Korra pulled away as a surprised voice interrupted, Korra's blue eyes tormented as Mako appeared in her line of vision. "What is this?" Mako was finally able to ask, his voice raw and emotional.
"Mako...," Korra's voice trailed off, her lips in a deep and anguished frown. "I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen, but it did. I'm so sorry." Korra's chin fell to her chest as Mako rounded on his heel and headed away, Amon awkwardly standing and watching her, unsure whether he ought to approach.
"I need to be alone," Korra finally mumbled, her footsteps leading her to the bathroom. Amon could only watch her go in silence, his fingers fumbling in his jacket's breast pocket for another cigarette.
"I'm too old for this shit," Amon muttered as he made his way outside, a trail of smoke billowing past his shoulder as he walked into the light rain of the Los Angeles evening.
Korra leaned over a sink in the restroom, her hands filling with cold water before she splashed it on her face; gripping the porcelain, Korra looked up into her reflection, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. Great. My first movie premiere and I look like this, Korra couldn't help but laugh at herself cruelly, her hand finally reaching for a paper towel to wipe away the moisture. Time to go face the music, Korra finally grimaced before walking out the bathroom door, her mien confident despite feeling anything but.
Lots of people congratulated her, her smile plastic though thoroughly intact. "Where's Amon?" someone finally asked, Mako's hurt and angry look directed at Korra though she did her best to ignore him.
"I don't know," she finally admitted, Tarrlok coming to her rescue.
"He's out on the terrace, smoking and sulking. He's such a child," Tarrlok murmured with a chuckle, his eyes serious as they gazed into Korra's. Go to him.
"If you'll excuse me...," Korra managed to disentangle herself from her fans, her steps measured and her anxiety increasing with every one. "Why are you out here?" Korra managed to ask after shutting the terrace door behind her, Amon not bothering to look over his shoulder at the new arrival.
"It's quiet out here," Amon responded airily, a puff of smoke billowing from his lips moments later. "Why are you out here?" The question was seemingly benign, but Korra knew better.
A few rain drops landed on her shoulders as she walked towards him, her lips pursed; "Look, we need to talk about what happened in there," Korra finally managed to say, her cheeks slightly red.
"It's very clear. You made a mistake, and you've doubtlessly consoled your boyfriend," Amon answered dismally, Korra's hand on his arm startling him enough to turn and look at her.
"You're wrong." Her words were breathy, a raindrop plopping to the ground from a loose strand of her hair. Taking the cigarette from his hand, Korra tossed it over the terrace's railing before standing on tiptoe and pressing her lips to his; the gesture was sweet, terribly so, and Amon's hands gripped her shoulders as he pushed her away gently.
"I'm significantly older, impatient, rather blunt, and yet you still profess that you desire me?" Amon's eyebrow was lifted skeptically, Korra's expression determined as she inclined her head once.
"You are a child, Korra. You will soon see that your boyfriend can give you far more than I ever could." Amon didn't wait for Korra to argue, though her next words froze him to his core.
"I love you."
His eyes were wide, and her lips were pulled in the most sincere, beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face; "Don't leave."
His resolve effectively cracked at her insistence, Korra approaching and pressing a hand to his cheek as the rain become significantly heavier. "I would say marry me, but I that's a little cliché, don't you think?" Korra's smile was wide and goofy, and Amon found his reciprocal one was similar.
"Perhaps one day I will ask you that sincerely, but for now...," his voice trailed off implicatively as he leaned down and captured her lips again, neither much caring that the rain had thoroughly soaked their clothing through, not that they had a crowed watching them from the ballroom.