Huston Boyd pulls into their assigned parking spot, their twin brother, Hunter, pulling into the spot to the right of them. After shutting off the engine, Huston removes their sunglasses, putting them back it their case. Then, after dropping the case into the center console, Huston exits their car.
“Today’s the big day!” Hunter yells over the top of his car.
“I can’t believe it, Hunter Boyd kept a secret for two weeks, a whole fourteen fucking days.” Huston says, shutting their door.
Hunter plays Grayson Channing, a detective who travels both to the future and the past, trying to prevent crimes from happening rather than solving them after the fact.
This particular day on set is quite a special one; not only is this the hundredth episode, but it’s also the episode in which the identity of Channing’s parents, a long running mystery throughout the show, is finally going to be revealed. Other than the showrunners, the actors who have been casted to play Channing’s parents, and Hunter, no one else knows a thing. Even outside of work, Hunter has remained tight lipped about the whole thing; refusing to even bring the script him.
Ducking back down into his car, Hunter grabs four boxes of donuts, setting them on the roof.
“They made me sign an NDA. Otherwise you would’ve been the first person I told.” He explains, closing the door.
Huston shrugs, pocketing their keys as they make their way over to his car.
“Can’t have good television without a few secrets.” They say, taking two of the four boxes.
After locking his car, Hunter grabs the other two boxes before following Huston into the building. Once inside, the duo make their way into the studio, dishing out good mornings as they offer their co-stars as well as the crew members donuts. When they finally make it to set, Huston and Hunter are greeted by Maggie, a short, raven haired woman.
“You two are due in hair and makeup, like now.” She says, swiping the last donut.
The twin chorus an ‘okay’ as they chuck their now empty boxes into the recycling bin. Then, turning around, the duo make their way across a dark stage before exiting the building once again, this time on the other side. Outside, the duo make their way through a sea of frantic costume designers and assistants, on their way to their trailers. Then, about half to their destination, Huston and Hunter hear someone calling their names. So, turning around, they spot an older man, with hair white as snow, jogging towards them.
“Aw shit, what does he want?” Hunter groans.
Robert Marshall, the excess’ little weasel. Whenever they need to fire someone, deliver script notes they know the director’s not gonna like, or do anything else that’s sure to piss the creatives off, Robert’s their guy. So, one can only imagine why no one’s ever happy to see him.
“Hue, Hunt, how’s it goin’?” He asks, lowering his sunglasses to look at the two.
It take everything within Huston not to roll their eyes.
Ever since he landed that little ‘promotion’ that put him in the same building as the exces; Robert walks around like he owns the joint. ‘Do this’ ‘Get me that’, any chance he gets to bark orders, Roberts all over it. But when it comes to doing this ACTUAL job; communicating the creatives’ needs to the big money men, Robert’s clueless. He doesn’t even know the first thing about negotiating, let alone money. But, nevertheless, he’s had the job or six months now, so he must be doing something (or someone) right.
“The big bosses need to speak with you.“ Robert says, looking directly at Huston.
Huston frowns, their eyebrows bunching together.
“Right now? Hunt and I were just on our way to hair and makeup.”
“Yeah, they said they need you ASAP.” He says.
“Alrighty then.” Huston says before turning to Hunter.
“I’ll text you.” Huston says.
Then, turning back around, Huston follows Robert, the pair making their way past fictitious storefronts, and down a fake brick road. Exiting the film lot, Huston and Robert hitch a ride on a golf cart, taking them to the entrance of the lot. Then, on foot, the two head across the street, exiting one world and entering an entirely new one. Car horns blare as the occupants of Studio city navigate their way through traffic.
Then, after crossing the street, Huston and Robert head into a tall, air-conditioned building. Inside, their shoes squeak, loudly, against the freshly polished floors. The sound is loud, taking up all the space around them, leaving no room to breathe; reminding Huston why they despise corporate jobs and nine to fives so much. It’s like being in prison; confined to a small box society calls a ‘steady job’.
After making it through the lobby, Huston and Robert squeeze on the elevator along with a bunch of men in stiff business suits. With their phones to their ears, the stuffy money men angrily bark numbers into their phones. Then, after what feels like a lifetime, Robert and Huston finally make it to the top floor. After stepping off the elevator, Huston follows Robert, the two making their way down a mile long hall. Then, when they finally make it to the end of the hall, Robert opens the conference room door and behind it awaits a bunch of men in fancier versions of the same stiff suits that the men in the elevator wore. Sitting around the conference table, the men grumble and bark at one another until Micheal, a large man who seems to be missing his neck, looks up and looks eyes with Huston.
“Huey! Just the actor we wanted to see! Have a seat.” He says, gesturing to the chair at the opposite end of the runway like table.
Wanting to get this little meeting over with, Huston does as they’re told and sits down across from Micheal. Micheal smiles, his smile almost predatorial. Then, like a robot, missing its neck, he slowly turns his entire body, stopping once he’s facing Robert.
“Thank you so much Robert. You can go now.” Micheal says.
“I said you’re dismissed. Thank you.” Micheal repeats, his tone a warning.
Robert lowers his head, giving a low; ‘Yes sir’ before turning on his heels and making his way out the door. After his departure, the door clicks, leaving Huston alone in a room full of sharks.