21
The chaos and glitz of Oscar night.
Crowds, limos, cameras, searchlights...
The limo is waiting in a line of hover limos to reach the red carpeted entrance to The Vantages Theatre.
Jack and Tony sit in front with Henry.
In the back a spectacularly suited Ianto sits flanked by Smith and
Spector, both of whom, like Jack, are wearing tuxedos.
Up ahead, they can all see the hubbub at the entrance: TV cameras, lights, photographers, arriving guests, two bleachers full of fans.
The glare from the arc lights is almost blinding.
"We'll go straight back to the Green Room. Right, Jack?" Smith says and Jack nods. "Got that, Tony?"
"Tony knows what he's doing." Jack barks and Tony looks at Jack, surprised and not a little pleased with the unexpected support.
"I wish you boys would relax a little. Nothing bad is gonna happen out there, alright?" Ianto jokes as he looks at the solemn faces, "Unless I lose the fucking award."
He looks around at the men, all are tense. "Jesus, what a crew."
Ianto leans forward and flips down the mirror on the panel in front of him and checks his appearance. The limo moves up.
"Screw it. I'm through worrying. When your number's up, it's up. Right, Harkness?" Ianto says with fake bravado.
The limo is almost at the red carpet.
Jack slips out the front door of the moving limo.
More quartz lights click on.
The TV cameras all focus on the door of the limo as Jack steps out of the way as he surveys the busy scene.
An interviewer peers into Ianto's limo and walks toward it. "... Mister Ianto Jones!"
On wide screens we see Ianto wave to the crowd.
"Everyone wishes you the best tonight, Ianto." The interviewer gushes.
Jack leads the small procession down the red carpet.
Fans reach out asking for his autograph.
Jack is ahead in the distance, to the door, to the side at photographers nodding to the massed security men with their walkie-talkies.
Ianto's smile is convincing, lovely, professional.
Spector, Smith and Tony look strained.
As they enter, their limo is pulling ahead as the next car pulls up. The limo rolls past to reveal the rear fender of a Toyota 4X4 parked in the lot.
Ianto has made it to a large dressing room come safe room. It is large and has been fitted with a bar and buffet.
Formally-dressed presenters and hosts mill about, laughing and talking.
Many greet Ianto.
A TV monitor hangs from the ceiling in one corner. On it, the Academy Awards continue. An elaborate dance number is just concluding.
The audience applauds.
Beside the monitor, a large clock with a ticking second hand.
A harried associate producer Skip, comes up to Ianto, settled in an armchair. Tony stands nearby, Jack leans against a far wall.
"Hello, Ianto. I need to get you straight on your responsibilities." Skip starts to speak and Ianto hides his annoyance at the tone.
"Sure, Skip."
Skip takes a typewritten sheet from a sheaf in his hand and gives it to Ianto. He consults a clipboard as he speaks. There, laid out minute by minute, is the order of the evening's events. Each one has a precise time printed beside it, including those that involve Ianto.
"Now, it's Best Sound, then another song, then you. At precisely (looks at his clipboard) - 8:07, you'll be presenting with Clive Healy. Those are your lines. The prompter's straight ahead and - we pray - working perfectly."
Ianto nods. "Fine, you'll be a big shot someday, Skip."
Skip smiles and walks off, glancing up at the clock.
7:43. Clive Healey, a slim British actor appears, bows and kisses Ianto's hand. "I understand it's my great honour to escort you onstage."
"That's right, Clive. And I don't like it one bit that you look skinnier than me." Ianto purrs as he slides a hand on to the crook of Clive's arm.
The show is progressing, flashing out across the worlds.
... And the award for Best Achievement in Sound goes to Kay Colvin and Mychal Smith for Hot And Cold.
Applause.
The celebrities in the Green Room drink, eat and talk.
Ianto is deep in a giggling, conversation with an actress. Skip Thomas approaches Ianto again. "Ianto. One more song, then you."
Ianto nods, goes back to his conversation.
Jack steps up to Tony. "I'm going to have a look around. I'll come back for him. Stay alert."
Tony nods, watches Jack go.
Jack moves down the hall from the Green Room toward the stage.
Stagehands, technicians, performers speak in hushed tones. TV monitors are mounted throughout the area. On screen a distinguished-looking actor named
Reardon is serving as temporary master of ceremonies.
Jack walks along, checking the route, looking up into the flies. He rounds a corner and is face to face with Portman. "Portman. What are you doing here?"
"I'm on the job." Portman replies.
"Who?"
"Him." Portman points at a nearby TV monitor. On screen, Reardon is introducing the next song.
Applause.
Now it's time to hear the final nominated song, from the film 'Queen Of The Night' - 'I Have Nothing.' And here to sing it for us, the multi-talented Miss Sandra Castle!
"Short-term gig... but quite profitable... Listen, Jack, I'm sorry about Miami. You know, nothing really happened... I felt bad for you... I wanted to say something, but you disappeared..." Portman tells Jack as he is almost drowned out by the "I Have Nothing" fanfare.
Dancers rush onto stage.
First section of song, commencing with shortened chorus then first verse
The screen flashes so those out back know their times.
Reardon walks off the stage ten feet from where Jack and Portman are standing, glances at them and moves off down the hall.
"Back to work. I'll probably see you at the Governor's Ball." Portman walks off after Reardon. Jack watches him, thoughtful.
ON TV MONITOR - Sandra Castle sings "I Have Nothing" with great feeling. The lyrics recall the text of the death threat.
Jack issuddenly wary.
No rational cause.
Something in the air.
THE CLOCK - 7:58
Ianto's face is impassive as he watches Sandra Castle on the monitor. She is belting out his song like her life depends on it.
The celebrities in the Green Room are impressed with Sandra's performance. There is spontaneous applause.
Ianto turns to the room. "I want that broad run out of town."
Jack calls Tony on his coms. "Tony, you there?"
Yeah, Jack.
"Tony, I've got a feeling this is the night. I think he's gonna go
for him in front of all the cameras. The kind of thing only a lunatic would do. That's how he wants it to look. Except he isn't a lunatic. He's very clever. I need you to help me."
I'm with you, Jack.
There's no more competition between them.
Three sound technicians appear at Jack's side, very agitated. "You can't use that thing back here. The breakthrough's killing our radio mikes... we'll have to disconnect you."
Reluctantly, Jack disconnects his earpiece.
Tony fiddles with his earpiece.
Jack?... Jack?
Technicians approach Tony, too.
Big finish of song and dance number (total 40 seconds).
Applause and dancers off.
Jack walks past Tony. Tony holds up the earpiece in frustration. Jack nods. He walks over to Ianto. He seems tense and he senses it. And like a tangible thing, his anxiety is passed over to Ianto. He is frightened.
What's wrong?" Ianto says softly, reaching out to stoke Jack's cheek.
Skip Thomas appears at their side. "Ianto... Clive. Let's go, okay?"
Clive Healy comes over. Ianto must tear his eyes away from Jack. Tony floats up behind them.
Skip regards him with irritation and turns to Jack. "Really. Must we have everyone? We have our own men at the door."
"Tony stays." Jack snarls and Skip looks at Ianto for a response.
"Yes! I want him." Ianto simpers.
Skip shrugs.
Clive takes Ianto's arm. "Come, Ianto, let us brighten the firmament."
Ianto forces a smile, but his eyes follow Jack as he starts to lead the way out of the Green Room. On an impulse, he reaches for something from the makeup table and presses it into Ianto's hand. It's the pocket watch.
He clutches it like a talisman and follows Jack.
Tony brings up the rear.
Showtime.