Oona opened up the curtains to her apartment, looking down at the town below. People were up early, whether they were scurrying along to a movie set, or heading to other, more conventional means of work. She noticed the sun was brighter here than she'd ever seen it, whether it was from being up earlier than usual, or from just sheer optimism.

Yawning, she began to dress, not too worried about her appearance since the wardrobe department at Benton Tarantella's surely had a costume for her to wear.

Surely...

Pulling on her stockings, Oona wondered about the man she'd met prior, and his assistant, the German guy. What was his name again? Von Stroheim?

Tarantella was a bit intimidating himself. He seemed matter of fact, very business-oriented. Oona wondered if he was the type of director who demanded their actors live the lifestyle of the character they were playing. He seemed to place a good deal of importance that Oona was a shoe-in for the personality and background he came up with.

Still...he was charming. Had the charisma of a typical Hollowood director, Oona thought. He wasn't much to look at, but he wasn't necessary ugly, either. She actually liked the scarf he wore, and his slicked back, messy hair with the grey streak. He seemed to be stylish, maybe even obnoxiously so. He seemed to be of the lifestyle Hollowood curated for its residents. Oona wondered if she'd ever meet such success.

She glanced at her clock. Uh-oh! It was already twenty minutes until showtime. She hurriedly grabbed a bit of lunch from her refrigerator, which was leftovers from the night before, and was on her way.

Shortly after stepping into the warehouse, Oona immediately spotted the German man. He waved, flashing her his dubious grin. "Over here, Miss Sherman," he coolly beckoned. Standing with him was a short man, very homely in appearance, with bright ginger hair and freckles that seemed to be infinite on his cheeks. He was dressed in denim overalls and a checkered button-up shirt. He looked like a total hillbilly, Oona thought, complete with a piece of hay sticking out of his mouth.

"This is Kevin", said Errol Van Volkheim, whose name Oona suddenly remembered, "He vill be your co-star in this film."

Oona nodded and shook Kevin's hand. "Pleased to meet you!" she said, smiling. Kevin looked at her with wide eyes. "You noticed the set yet?" he asked, his voice also a Southern drawl, like Oona's. "It's a total farce. A mockery of the South."

The actress looked around. The set was covered in hay on the floor, with a cardboard barn prop positioned against the wall. A painted landscape backdrop, exquisitely done, was a focal point of the set. Fake chickens, cows, and goats were placed in random areas. Oona thought the set looked awesome, but maybe she was just easy to please.

"This looks more like Kansas than Kentucky", sneered Kevin, who was scratching at his itchy shirt.

"Are you from Kentucky?" asked Oona earnestly.

"No, Alabama," replied Kevin.

A set worker with a blue and white gingham dress in their arms, not unlike Dorothy Gale of Wizard of Oz fame, rushed up to Oona, breaking her and Kevin's conversation.

"Here you go, dear," said the worker, who was younger than Oona by no less than ten years, "this is the dress Mister Tarantella picked out for your character."

The actress took the dress into her own arms, examining it.

"Your character's name is Maryellen", said the worker, who was snipping some loose threads with her scissors. "Mister Tarantella said he gave you a script, but sometimes his memory is terrible and tells me things that he forgot to do."

Oona smiled. "Don't worry, he gave me the script. I know all about Maryellen and her barnyard living. How she and Baxter wind up having a love affair in the city, despite her childhood friend Carl's objections." She glanced towards Kevin, who was still seemingly uncomfortable in his wardrobe. "I presume that's Carl?"

The worker nervously smiled and blushed, looking at Kevin, and then back to Oona. "Yes, isn't he cute?" said the worker, adjusting her glasses. "But Mister Tarantella forbids his assistants from dating the actors."

Oona politely chuckled, but felt pity for the worker.

"Is there anything else I should know about Tarantella?"

The worker, whose name tag read "Amy", gulped.

"Well...he's really a stickler about following the script."

Oona blinked as Amy continued.

"And he loves his Nina."

The actress blinked again. Nina?

"And Errol is his friend, not his boyfriend." Amy laughed nervously. "He wants to make sure everyone knows that."

Before Amy could continue, Benton Tarantella himself burst onto the set. Errol briskly walked over to meet with him, and they had a brief talk before Tarantella spoke to Oona, Kevin, and the rest of the crew.

"Glad to see everyone made it..." spoke Tarantella, whose grouchy face looked anything but glad. "I presume my actors studied their scripts intently, and we will be without any issue..."

He looked directly at Oona, who wasn't dressed in her costume yet. She blushed when she realized she was too busy talking to Amy to notice, and quickly ran to her private dressing room to change.

Arriving back on the set, and looking country-chic in her Wizard of Oz dress, Oona pulled out her script and looked it over one last time before they started to rehearse.

Tarantella was now behind a camera, with his crew adjusting the lighting and sound of their picture. Errol was with Benton, looking through a secondary camera to make sure everything was lining up.

Kevin walked over to Oona, his hands fiddling with his overall straps. "These are the most uncomfortable clothes I've ever worn," he whimpered, "I can't wait 'til shooting is over."

"Alright, places everyone!" called Van Volkheim, who now stood behind Tarantella.

Oona gulped and positioned herself in front of the barn, sitting down on a makeshift swing set. She really hoped she wouldn't forget any lines, lest she face the wrath of Tarantella, like Amy said.

Everyone got positioned and Tarantella finally called "Action!"

Kevin, or "Carl", walked over to Oona, "Maryellen", still chomping on the same piece of hay.

"I can't believe you're leaving me", he said in the most contrived, fake Kentuckian accent Oona had ever heard, "to go to the city and make a name for yourself."

Inside, Oona wanted to die. This was the worst writing she'd ever witnessed, but she wanted to make Tarantella happy.

"Oh, Carl," sadly stated "Maryellen", her own accent slightly overdone, "You know I'll write to you every day...! New York can never replace you."

"And...CUT!" said Benton, who hopped down from his position.

Oona breathed a sigh of relief. That wasn't too bad.

But then again, it was only two lines...

Tarantella stroked his long chin, staring at Oona and Kevin intently.

"That should do it," he sighed, picking up a script and flipping through its pages, "Now we get ready for the city set."

Kevin's eyes practically popped out of his skull. "You mean all of this was for...for one scene?" He groaned.

Tarantella looked at him. "If you don't like my filmmaking style, maybe I can replace you."

Kevin rolled his blue eyes and didn't say a word.

As the crew began to roll out the props and backdrop to a New York scene, Tarantella began to walk towards Errol, whose face was still stuck in that grin. Oona, who now needed to change into a "city slicker" type dress, glanced towards him and noticed they were talking and looking back to her.

"Miss Sherman!" called out Errol as he waved, standing next to Benton, whose arms were crossed. Oona had a pang of worry go through her. What if he didn't like her acting, however short lived it was?

She approached the two filmmakers, preparing a speech in her mind of why the two of them should keep her, before Benton spoke.

"I'll be blunt. I don't like your...screen chemistry, with Mr. Jones," he began, "I can tell already that you two are decidedly not made to play opposite each other."

Oona felt her heart racing. Oh god, was she already fired? Really?

The director continued. "However, I've decided that you should star in a better, different film," he continued. "I'm cancelling this one, effective immediately."

Everyone within earshot dropped everything they were doing and stared.

Kevin Jones, who had changed into an ill-fitting suit, glared at the man in the scarf, his pale face turning pink.

"What did you say, Tarantella?" he raged. "We've prepped for this for weeks, and you're just going to send us all home?"

A small smirk appeared on Benton's lips.

"I never said that," he chuckled, "You're the only one fired."

Kevin ripped off the ugly suit and gathered his civilian clothing. "Whatever, you hack," he yelled as he stormed off, "Your movies suck anyway!"

Oona's jaw was slack and head was in a daze. What the hell just happened?

Benton turned to his actress once again, everyone else aside from Errol still focused on the two of them, listening intently.

"I didn't really want to make this picture anyway. I wanted to break free of my creative...vision, but the heart wants to film what it wants to film."

The woman, still confused, gave a small nod.

"It just so happens," Benton cooed, "That you're just the actress I've been wanting for my Magnum Opus...the one I've been writing for years." He smiled to her, the first smile he'd shown that was genuine, and she felt goosebumps travel up her arms. He was kind of cute when he smiled.

"Yes, I believe you should be my star in the film, 'Evening of the Undead People'".

Oona glanced towards Errol, whose forehead was in his palm with second-hand embarrassment.

Benton paused for a brief moment before yelling to his stage crew.

"EVERYONE, TAKE FIVE!" He called out, his deep voice booming.

The confused crew scurried out of the stage door, leaving only Oona, Benton, and Errol in the center of the room.

"Benton," started Van Volkheim, "Are you sure you vant to do this? Already?"

Tarantella nodded. "Errol, you as well as anyone knows I've wanted to start this picture for a long time." He paused and straightened his pink, polka dot scarf. "I'm sick of conforming to these studios' standards. My vision is too great to be confined to romantic comedies with normal people."

Oona decided to take that as a compliment.

"They threatened me with claims of pulling funding out from under us," he continued, his voice wavering. "Well, I'm telling you that I don't care. I'll fund this myself, if I have to."

Errol rolled his eyes.

"Benton, you know we don't-" he argued, before being shushed by his creative partner.

"Miss Sherman."

Benton had turned to Oona at this point, looking straight into her eyes. She couldn't tell what color his were...in fact, they looked soulless, like voids. His words snapped her out of her thoughts.

"I know this must be terribly confusing, but it would be...great, if you would decide to star in my masterpiece."

Oona swallowed. "I mean, I have nothing else to lose, now do I?"

Tarantella was beaming at this point. "Great!!" he exclaimed, shaking Oona's hands with fervor. "This is gonna be great!"

Errol, looking concerned but trying to hide it, simply grinned to the both of them.

"Benton, you're my friend and I will support you all the vay."

Oona couldn't help but be happy too. The director was right, she WAS terribly confused. But seeing him happy made her happy, even though she barely knew him. His passion was infectious.

--

The day had passed, and it was now Oona's second night in Hollowood.

Benton had graciously kept all of his stage hands, the only missing person being Kevin. Oona wondered where he has gone off too, and if he would find work again. He didn't exactly seem to have the best personality, but then again, Amy seemed to like him.

The stage had been changed, and the set now looked like a haunted house. The backdrop was painted an eerie dark sky, complete with a giant full moon. Various limbs were coming out of the "ground", and a skeleton lay against a bale of hay that was kept from the previous shoot.

Oona wiped some fake blood off of her face, the red liquid staining her cheeks. She was the only actor in the picture, which is how Benton wanted it. All the violence was seen off-camera, with only shadows, blood splatters, and Oona's screams being used for dramatic effect.

Suddenly, Amy startled Oona by appearing right next to her. She was as quiet as a mouse when walking, so startling others wasn't uncommon for her.

"You did great..!" She beamed, smiling her cute, big smile. "Kevin isn't here anymore, but I think you're perfect for the part. And I think Mr. Tarantella likes you."

Oona glanced towards Benton, who was again speaking to Errol, but looking straight at her. He smiled, and continued his conversation with his friend.

She felt herself blushed and hoped Amy didn't see it. She began to recollect today's events.

The day went along smoothly. Everything was exactly how Tarantella wanted it, and he praised Oona often. He got very close to her at one point as he was giving her direction, and she could smell his cologne on his clothing. He smelled like a mixture of tobacco and whisky, a heavy fragrance which Oona could admit she thought smelled incredible on him.

When it was their break, Oona sat with Benton and Errol at their chairs. Van Volkheim left at one point, leaving the director and actress alone together.

Tarantella was actually a very charming man, albeit a tad bit intense and moody. They made small talk about a variety of topics, and Oona believed he was shocked to know she wasn't as uncultured as he expected a "country bumpkin" of being.

"You love 'Nosferatu'?" he asked, surprised.

"It's my favourite film." Oona grinned.

They talked about many things other than art. Oona learned Tarantella was from an immigrant Italian family. He had no one he lived with, it was just himself and his tarantula Nina, which he carried with him to the set each day. He had never been married, much to the chagrin of his grandmother, who was his guardian before he became an adult. His parents had died long ago, which Oona didn't inquire further about. His grandmother, however, was still alive and living in Kansas.

Oona told him her own story: How she was raised by a strict family in Tennessee, who didn't approve of her becoming an actress and moving to California. She herself was unmarried and moved here alone, living in a small apartment just north of the warehouse. Benton asked her why she wanted to become an actress, and she replied that she didn't know why herself. She just felt like she needed to be here.

"Yes, Mr. Tarantella definitely likes you."

Amy's statement brought Oona back to the present.

"I've never seen him look at any of his stars the way he looks at you," continued Amy, "He seems the type to believe in Love At First Sight, doesn't he?"

Benton slowly began to make his way over to the two. Amy grabbed the papers she was holding close to her chest and hurried away, but not before winking at Oona.

"Oona, dear, I was wondering something..." said Benton as he got close to her, with a coy tone to his voice. "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Oona felt her world stop in its tracks.

This was only her second day of knowing the director, but her heart was pumping so fast that it felt like she'd known him forever, and that he had just asked her out on a date after months of teasing.

"You know," he cleared his throat, "to go over some details I'd like you to remember in your performance."

Oona nodded, seemingly on autopilot. "Ab-absolutely, Mr. Director."

He smiled.

"Please, call me Benton. I insist. Let's leave right now, shall we?"

He extended his elbow to her, and she locked her arm with his.

Amy gave her a discreet thumbs up as the two passed her. Oona looked towards Errol in the front of the room, who looked vaguely annoyed, but again tried to hide his expression.

She wondered what that was about.

She was still shocked by Benton's gesture by the time they arrived at the restaurant, which was a small, intimate Italian place only around the corner.

The waiter came and acknowledged Benton. "Mr. Tarantella, what will it be tonight for you and the lady?" he asked.

She ordered spaghetti, Benton ordered some sort of eggplant dish.

"You're doing great, my dear," Benton whispered to Oona, who had nearly finished her dish and was washing it down with a glass of wine. "You have a certain charm about you, you know. I wouldn't mind if you starred in all my future films."

Oona blushed, again. She knew she couldn't hide it from her superior though, and knew he probably expected it of her, anyway.

"T-thank you, Mr. Ta...Benton." She smiled and put down her drink.

"I just have a question though..." he continued, his voice soft, but deep and sensual. "Why don't you have a significant other?"

Oona nearly spat everywhere. Why was he asking that?

Was he about to...?

"I'm just a little shy, Benton." said Oona, dabbing at her forehead with a napkin. "I mean, I've dated in the past, if that's what you're asking."

Benton smirked.

"Oh, I was just curious, is all."

Whew. She wasn't sure she would know how to approach the subject, if he DID ask her out.

As their night concluded, Benton walked Oona home. They had made more small talk, and he had suggested some tips to her since she had never starred in a picture before, much less a horror one.

"Your scream is perfect," he complimented. "You're destined for horror films, I can tell."

As they arrived at the gate, Benton took Oona's hand into his and softly kissed the back side of it. She felt her heart lurch again, but this time, it was pleasant.

"I'll see you tomorrow..." Benton softly spoke, his smile once again genuine, which looked adorable to Oona. "I look forward to our...partnership."

As he walked away, Oona rushed up to her room. The day had been confusing, yes, but it had been exhilarating too. She couldn't help but feel warm at the thought of Benton being so kind to her. And it was just her first day!

She blushed for the thousandth time that day. Benton WAS cute, he was smart, he was charming...he was cute...

What could possibly be wrong with him?

She laid down to sleep, but couldn't stop thinking about him.

She would feel embarrassed at how attracted she was to him, if this wasn't so exciting.

As she dozed off, she could hear his voice in her dreams.

"Goodnight, Oona." said the voice, and she drifted off to sleep.

--

A/N

Well, here's the second chapter! I hope anyone reading this is enjoying it as much as I am writing it. I know it's a bit odd to write about a semi-obscure villain from a 90's cartoon, but he's truly my favourite character and I enjoy writing about him. I promise things will get cool at some point, haha.