[retirement hasn't been on hawkins fuller's mind even since he hit the big 4-0, but these days he's starting to rethink the way he has eaten, breathed, and lived for cinema since he set foot on a lot in his teens. he'd thought by avoiding outright theater maybe his parents would politely gloss over the questionable desire to get into production design and costuming and crafting real life magic if it had a thin veneer of twenty-four carat golden glamor in hollywood - but it turns out that even the best of intentions can be seen from a mile away by a bigoted father and a sympathetic but unwilling to leave mother on the east coast. he remembers moving to los angeles down on his luck with nothing but a few bucks in his pocket and the drive to make it happen - to never have to rely on an inheritance that wouldn't be his anyway or a life of conformity just for the sake of comfort.
something about his old school sensibilities, impeccable work ethic, the decent head on his shoulders, the willingness to knock door to door in this day and age, and yeah, probably the strong jawline and golden era good looks got his foot in the door on a terrible, second rate studio lot to start. not even enough to cover his obscene rent without overtime - but it was a start. at least, until wesley smith walked in and plucked him out with precision to bring him over to his own struggling, but otherwise lucrative set. hawk was barely even twenty, but one right comment at the right place and time and it'd been history every since. everyone knew leonard smith didn't have the business sensibilities for this industry - too busy winding up in the tabloids for picking up boys on street corners and drinking his nights away in weho looking for the next "big thing".
maybe he should feel guiltier than he does for rising to righthand man and being the unofficial heir to the throne at smith studios - but he's paid his dues. worked his way up from the bottom as a mail boy to everything in between and learned it inside and out with smith's careful eye and guidance. he's a good man, which is a hard thing to find once people realize that twenty-four-carat veneer he'd once dreamed about really is a veneer - one that happens to be coated over a steaming pile of shit. god knows he's seen, manufactured, and even squashed his own share of scandals in the time he's been working in the industry.
but he'd never trade it for anything in the whole goddamn world. this is where he was meant to be - and he hates to sound pretentiously cliche, but it's what he was born to do.
at least, until embry moore came along.
everyone knows embry's sob story: iconic child star with his half-sister morgan, under the careful management of aging soap opera queen vivienne moore. a promising career through his 20s, the kind of handsome bone structure people used to go to fucking war over. more poignancy and a wicked sense of humor that couldn't be stifled in his interviews, a natural sort of broody charm that can't be manufactured. and then came the tidal wave - drugs, duis, one bad hookup pr or otherwise with pretty boys and pretty girls. all that driving a frenzy of focus with the paparazzi, probably making it all worse by putting him under a microscope. then came the bad behavior - tarnishing an otherwise pristine reputation and giving him the dreaded "difficult on set" label. his big break ended up coming out with less a bang than a whimper, and it was all downhill after that.
which should be a shame, and the end of it, because hawkins fuller doesn't work with hot messes unless he's got some serious contingency plans in place.
but it was that last flop of a movie hawk had caught, making it a point to always keep a pulse on any and everything even if it was critically panned, and fuck if he wasn't riveted by every moment embry spent on screen. he really shouldn't be blamed for bad writing and worse directing - a bloated mess of dingy discoloration telling the tragic romance between two starcrossed young men at war.
but hawk knows when he sees something - a diamond in the rough. they're not easy to come by, and despite every bit of protest from smith and just about everyone he pitches his plan to - they all grudgingly know that if nothing else, he'll deliver. they're down a heart throb, about to stall on the beginning of their production date, and unfortunately no one else has met hawk's arbitrary standards by sheer existence alone. so all they can do is trust him, and it's just the headache of everything in between that's going to rest solidly on his unfairly strong shoulders.
to say he hits embry with the book his first day isn't inaccurate: he runs a tight set. no visitors unless cleared through him and security, no drugs, no distractions, show up on time and do a good job so they can all get paid and praised.
it should surprise him that embry actually seems to show up clean and mostly willing to play ball - at least, until today, when it all seems ready to come crashing down. laughlin knocks frantically at his door where he's signing off on a slight budget increase for the next phase of shooting, with a clipped it's urgent mr. fuller as he calls for him to come in.
there's a jumble of words out in a rush from tim, clutching his ipad and a clipboard, hair a floppy mess and cheeks flushed from a clear run. embry - security mixup - trailer - stalker - assault - tmz - comment - on his way - terrible mistake - and then the man himself is standing behind tim, still in costume and looking like he's seen a ghost.]
I've got it from here, Tim. Tell them I'll issue a statement later this afternoon.
[hawk lifts his palm, face neutral and gestures with his fingers for embry to come inside.]
Moore. Get in here and shut the door behind you.
[it's the same tone he's used on exhausted kids who need one more take, and skittish starlets worried their stomach's not flat enough for a day in a bikini. firm, but sympathetic. fair, but commanding.]
Sit down and tell me what happened from the beginning.
➤ 𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑑
something about his old school sensibilities, impeccable work ethic, the decent head on his shoulders, the willingness to knock door to door in this day and age, and yeah, probably the strong jawline and golden era good looks got his foot in the door on a terrible, second rate studio lot to start. not even enough to cover his obscene rent without overtime - but it was a start. at least, until wesley smith walked in and plucked him out with precision to bring him over to his own struggling, but otherwise lucrative set. hawk was barely even twenty, but one right comment at the right place and time and it'd been history every since. everyone knew leonard smith didn't have the business sensibilities for this industry - too busy winding up in the tabloids for picking up boys on street corners and drinking his nights away in weho looking for the next "big thing".
maybe he should feel guiltier than he does for rising to righthand man and being the unofficial heir to the throne at smith studios - but he's paid his dues. worked his way up from the bottom as a mail boy to everything in between and learned it inside and out with smith's careful eye and guidance. he's a good man, which is a hard thing to find once people realize that twenty-four-carat veneer he'd once dreamed about really is a veneer - one that happens to be coated over a steaming pile of shit. god knows he's seen, manufactured, and even squashed his own share of scandals in the time he's been working in the industry.
but he'd never trade it for anything in the whole goddamn world. this is where he was meant to be - and he hates to sound pretentiously cliche, but it's what he was born to do.
at least, until embry moore came along.
everyone knows embry's sob story: iconic child star with his half-sister morgan, under the careful management of aging soap opera queen vivienne moore. a promising career through his 20s, the kind of handsome bone structure people used to go to fucking war over. more poignancy and a wicked sense of humor that couldn't be stifled in his interviews, a natural sort of broody charm that can't be manufactured. and then came the tidal wave - drugs, duis, one bad hookup pr or otherwise with pretty boys and pretty girls. all that driving a frenzy of focus with the paparazzi, probably making it all worse by putting him under a microscope. then came the bad behavior - tarnishing an otherwise pristine reputation and giving him the dreaded "difficult on set" label. his big break ended up coming out with less a bang than a whimper, and it was all downhill after that.
which should be a shame, and the end of it, because hawkins fuller doesn't work with hot messes unless he's got some serious contingency plans in place.
but it was that last flop of a movie hawk had caught, making it a point to always keep a pulse on any and everything even if it was critically panned, and fuck if he wasn't riveted by every moment embry spent on screen. he really shouldn't be blamed for bad writing and worse directing - a bloated mess of dingy discoloration telling the tragic romance between two starcrossed young men at war.
but hawk knows when he sees something - a diamond in the rough. they're not easy to come by, and despite every bit of protest from smith and just about everyone he pitches his plan to - they all grudgingly know that if nothing else, he'll deliver. they're down a heart throb, about to stall on the beginning of their production date, and unfortunately no one else has met hawk's arbitrary standards by sheer existence alone. so all they can do is trust him, and it's just the headache of everything in between that's going to rest solidly on his unfairly strong shoulders.
to say he hits embry with the book his first day isn't inaccurate: he runs a tight set. no visitors unless cleared through him and security, no drugs, no distractions, show up on time and do a good job so they can all get paid and praised.
it should surprise him that embry actually seems to show up clean and mostly willing to play ball - at least, until today, when it all seems ready to come crashing down. laughlin knocks frantically at his door where he's signing off on a slight budget increase for the next phase of shooting, with a clipped it's urgent mr. fuller as he calls for him to come in.
there's a jumble of words out in a rush from tim, clutching his ipad and a clipboard, hair a floppy mess and cheeks flushed from a clear run. embry - security mixup - trailer - stalker - assault - tmz - comment - on his way - terrible mistake - and then the man himself is standing behind tim, still in costume and looking like he's seen a ghost.]
I've got it from here, Tim. Tell them I'll issue a statement later this afternoon.
[hawk lifts his palm, face neutral and gestures with his fingers for embry to come inside.]
Moore. Get in here and shut the door behind you.
[it's the same tone he's used on exhausted kids who need one more take, and skittish starlets worried their stomach's not flat enough for a day in a bikini. firm, but sympathetic. fair, but commanding.]
Sit down and tell me what happened from the beginning.