WHO: Rhett Wyatt, actor extraordinaire, and Hugh Christian, actor extraordinaire in training. WHEN: May 9th, late night. WHERE: Last Shot SUMMARY: Marceline is playing with her BFF Blaze instead of hanging out with her boyfriend Hugh, so Hugh goes to the bar and has a conversation about acting with RHETT WYATT. WARNINGS: Drinking. An excess of Rhett Wyatt being Rhett Wyatt. A hint about a tragedy in Rhett Wyatt's past.
The truth was that even in Seattle, Hugh found himself outside of his apartment in the evening more often than not. If anything, the amount he'd spent inside his hotel room, was directly correlated to the fact that he'd been spending it with someone. He wasn't terribly fond of 'alone', but there also weren't a lot of options in Fall City. He'd discovered that early on. Add onto that, the fact that he wasn't at all convinced the townies weren't super thrilled about the visitors, and he'd been glad of the distraction Marce had offered.
But tonight she was with Blaze, and he was sitting on his bed by himself, script pages in front of him, but he was more or less at a place where he couldn't do much more with them. He knew them - enough - and he'd about filled his brain up to the point where he needed a break.
So he'd slid on a pair of loafers, reached for a dark sport coat, to slide on over his vest and shirt, and he'd headed out into the streets with his hands in his pockets. Last Shot wasn't so far from the Inn, and it was one of the few places that he knew might be open. Early closings weren't so terribly unusual - half of downtown was closed by five despite the reputation that cities might have for never sleeping - but the difference in Fall City was, the number of things that were open later was significantly less.
Hugh pushed a hair back as he pulled open the door on the bar and stepped in, eyes quickly scanning the room for any familiar face, even as he slowly headed towards the bartender to order. If he didn't know anyone, he might not stay long - drinking by oneself bordered on pathetic, and wasn't someplace Hugh needed to be right now. At the same time, maybe a drink and bit of quiet to think over the past month and everything that had happened in it, wasn't the worst thing in the world. He flashed a grin at the bartender and ordered a whiskey on the rocks.
The day had been a rousing success for Rhett Wyatt. He really felt that he’d nailed that Ed and Cora scene at the restaurant. He’d played it with just enough nuance. The fictional version of Ed March was going to be a memorable and complicated character. Barring some sort of mishap with the editors. If Rhett hadn’t just downed a shot of whiskey, he’d be shuddering at the thought.
He’d been having a truly fascinating conversation with one of the local bartenders, but the topic had finished and Rhett had let the man get back to his task. Rhett was about to call for another drink when he saw Hugh Christian at the bar. Rhett believed in a fellowship between cast members. No matter how big the part or how small, or how new to show business or old, until the shoot wrapped, they were all a sort of family. He was happy to see the younger actor and since Hugh was alone, Rhett waved him over.
“Join me for a drink,” he said with a jovial smile! “Unless you’re waiting for someone else.”
The invitation hadn't been expected, and certainly wouldn't have been required. Hugh might have years worth of stage experience, but he felt thoroughly inexperienced when it came to film. A few weeks in and he was beginning to get his feet under him, but nothing compared to Rhett Wyatt, and he would certainly not assume anything other than acquaintanceship with the older actor. The invitation was an inclusion he hadn't expected, and there was that leap of delight - hope - that he hadn't felt since high school.
"I'm not waiting for someone," he walked over, offering Rhett a smile. "I'd be happy to join you if I'm not an interruption."
“Of course not!” Rhett boomed. He clapped him on the back. “So, what do you think of your film experience so far? This is your first one, yes? Tell me everything.”
Hugh took a breath, reaching for the whiskey he'd been given, and took a sip. There were those nerves about speaking out of turn, saying the wrong thing, but even as he took the sip, he pushed them away. In what few opportunities he'd had to interact with the older actor, they'd gotten on - and someone who had done this for as long as Rhett Wyatt had - well, Hugh had a good deal of respect for him, and that was something to build on.
"It's my first film, yes," he told the older man, nodding. "It's been only stage work previously to this, and it's different, but it's been good. I've wanted to do film work for a while, and while I don't have anything to compare it to, I feel it's been a productive experience thus far. It's very different to try to get into a character's headspace for a scene or two, sometimes very different orders - it's requiring a different set of techniques than playing out an entire story in a few hours every night. But it's a good challenge."
Rhett Wyatt was delighted to hear all of this. In fact, it mirrored some of his own thoughts on film and he was excited to agree. “Ah yes. The ability to slip into another man’s shoes at any given moment in their lives and live in it, breathe in it. Some people go their whole lives barely able to live one life. If we do it right, we can live a hundred. An actor is given the unique opportunity to explore humanity. It’s a challenge, but it’s also its own reward. You’re a profound man, Hugh. You remind me of a friend of mine, who coincidentally is also named Hugh.” Rhett was talking about Grant and not Jackman. Rhett and Hugh Jackman had hated each other for many years.
“What made you want to switch from theater to film?”
Hugh smiled, and relaxed a little bit more. He turned the glass of whiskey in his hands, nodding, the enthusiasm in Rhett's voice was obvious, and it was a sentiment Hugh well understood. He loved his own life, most of the time, but the chances to explore the range of human emotion that he was granted in theater - it was a gift, and he treasured it. He took a sip and leaned an elbow on the bar, settling in a little bit.
"I've always wanted to do film," Hugh confided. "Ideally, I'd like a career that spans mediums, like Patrick Stewart or David Tennant, you know? Stage, film, even television - there's some great long-range storytelling happening in television that treats character and story with every bit the seriousness that film does, but it allows to explore in different ways.
"Honestly, I've been planning to move to LA within the next year to explore film, but then this presented itself," Hugh breathed in and lifted the whiskey to his lips again. The fact that he was here had nothing to do with his ghost Farmgirl. It didn't. "You've done stage work as well as television and film, haven't you?"
“So you have the fire,” Rhett commented. “This isn’t just a hobby or a passion for you. This is your life.” The older actor approved. He nodded. “I was discovered on stage,” he said. “I don’t go back very often, but when I do, I quite enjoy it. It’s a very different medium. The breadth of television makes it an exciting landscape. There’s so much that can go wrong that it would take a very special project to lure me back, but I enjoyed it back when I was involved with it. When you’ve got the right group and the right producers it’s its own kind of magic. But I’ve always had a soft spot for the self-contained stories in films.”
“I love films,” Hugh smiled. He watched more of them probably than television, although he had his share of television series he’d watched - particularly some of the acclaimed ones - but films were a love like theatre, like musicals. A lead role in a feature film was almost certainly a dream Hugh wanted to see to fruition. It wasn’t a hobby. It had been everything he’d wanted for so long. For almost as long the only something he could imagine wanting. That maybe had changed, but how he felt about acting hadn’t.
“What do you look for in a project?” He asked, tipping the glass slightly in Rhett’s direction. “You can obviously choose what you audition for - What are the things you look for?”
“Good script,” Rhett said. It was a cliche answer, but very true. “The people involved in the production and their commitment to quality. If it’s the best script in the world, and you can’t work with the director, it doesn’t matter how good the script is. I compare the character that I would be playing with the others that I’ve played. How similar are they? Is this project going to challenge me? What skills would I have to learn to do the role justice? What headspace would I have to live in? What stunts would I have to perform? How long is the shoot?” There were a lot of factors that went into Rhett’s decision-making process. Usually. This time they’d been a bit different.
“I have to say I’m impressed that you went for the role that you did. I can tell you’re an actor who appreciates a challenge.”
Hugh glanced over and nodded, a small smile on his lips. "It's not my typical type of role," he admitted. He had no idea if Rhett had seen what he'd been in or not, and it didn't really matter, honestly, the facts were that Hugh had largely played heroes, sometimes tragic ones, sometimes romantic ones, but it was safe to say he'd never played a misunderstood young man with some anger issues and pyromaniac tendencies. He'd been anxious about it initially, but now it felt as if some of that was settling.
"One of my professors at UW told me about the auditions," he lifted the drink to his lips and took a sip. "When Marce told me about the March fire back when we first became friends, I never imagined myself starring in a film adaptation about it." He'd thought it was a good opportunity, and he still thought it was, although it had come with challenges that had nothing to do with portraying Danny Lynch on the screen.
“Marce?” Rhett asked. His brow furrowed. “Who is Marce?” What a unique name.
"Marceline Cox," Hugh smiled, the smile of someone who was glad of the excuse to talk about a particularly favored topic. "She's my girlfriend,"he would never get tired of saying that, and he hadn't yet had the opportunity to say it often enough for it to become familiar. "She's from Fall City, and we've been friends for a while." He stopped short of explaining that they'd met in Seattle, that she came to his shows. Rhett wouldn't have any interest in any of that.
“Aw,” Rhett said. He was a romantic at heart and this boy was clearly smitten. “So a part of your interest in this particular film was the location.”
Hugh opened his mouth, closed it again and considered. They hadn't been dating when he'd auditioned, of course, and he'd had no way of knowing that anything that had happened in the last month could have happened so quickly, but of course it had been a factor. He nodded, lifted the whiskey to his lips again, and glanced over at Rhett, bashful. "I- yes. She's incredibly supportive, and it seemed like a good opportunity to figure out how film and I got on." Should he even move to LA?
“Sounds like a keeper,” Rhett said with a wink and a smile before he took another sip. “So if you and film do get along, is she coming with you to LA?”
“No,” Hugh said almost immediately, and then he frowned and amended. “We haven’t talked about it. We’ve not been dating that long. I just - her family has a farm here. This is her life, I don’t think I could ever see her happy in LA.” He stared into the remainder of the whiskey for a minute. “We’ll figure something out,” he determined, pulling a smile to his lips. He was going to be optimistic about it because he couldn’t allow himself to be anything else. He didn’t want to be anything else right now.
Rhett frowned a little, but on Hugh’s behalf, he was not entirely dismayed. “A country girl, eh? Well, not all actors have to spend their lives in LA. I myself own a sizeable ranch in North Dakota. Love finds a way.”
Hugh nodded. He knew that, of course, but decided it was rude to say so. It was likely difficult enough for a man like Rhett to keep a private life. There were questions that darted around the tip of his tongue, things he was desperate to ask, but they felt like they might be prying. He wasn’t Rhett’s best friend, he was a co-worker, and a young and unknown and inexperienced one at that. He finally settled on: “Does that work? Do you have an agent that keeps you abreast of auditions or…” he trailed off. He wanted Marce. He wanted acting. He wanted both so badly. He had no idea how to begin to make it work.
“My agent sends scripts to my manager.” His manager was also his ex wife, but that was neither here nor there. “If my manager thinks that I might be interested, she sends those scripts to me. I have some directors who are friends that I’ve worked with well in the past. Sometimes they’ll contact me directly.” It was a bit different for Rhett though. He’d been in the industry long enough that it called him. He definitely hadn’t started off with the ranch.
“Until you’ve established yourself, you may have to do long-distance. But there are certainly people who have made long-distance work.” Not that Rhett knew any. But he was absolutely, 100% positive that they existed.
Hugh nodded. Technically he had the agent, but not a manager. And he couldn't really afford both. He was his own manager. An LA agent might help. There were things he probably needed to look into more consistently if he was going to even think about doing this. And Rhett wasn't telling him anything he hadn't already thought of.
"I've been in Seattle and she's been in Fall City for years. It's not the longest of distances, but we've practiced at not being in the same place all of the time," he turned the glass in his hand. It might be harder now when even just having her somewhere other than his room tonight felt wrong. "But that's a bridge we'll cross when we get to it," he shook off the melancholy of what if. "I'm just grateful to have the challenge of something different, in a lot of ways." And grateful too for the ability to work with actors more experienced, but that felt almost too much to say - cloy, and with the possibility of seeming insincere, even though it was anything but.
“Choosing between your life and your love is one of the hardest choices a person can make,” Rhett said. “You’ll get through it.” And his enthusiasm conveyed that Rhett completely believed that. “I’m rooting for you.”
Hugh smiled, tipped his glass in the direction of Rhett as an acknowledgement.
“How is that challenge for you? You’ve done quite a bit of character research. Do you feel connected to Davey?”
"It's different largely because of the type of character," Hugh offered, mind back on work. "Most of what I've done in the past has been more of a heroic type, for better or for worse. Davey isn't portrayed that way, in the book or the film." He wasn't certain what he thought of the man that Davey was based on. Largely rude, probably, even if he was Marceline's friend. "It's…" he hesitated for a moment and then he decided to be honest. "It took longer than I would have liked, but I think I do, now."
Rhett smiled. “It’s a very interesting role. I’m excited to see your performance. I feel we owe it to these people to create a good film.” There was a lot of pain in this small town. Since Rhett was consigned to be here, he might as well do what he could to make something beautiful out of that.
“I agree,” Hugh nodded his head. These people were Marce’s people and the town was Marce’s town and he wanted to show it well, even if there was controversy in the telling of this particular story. “There’s truth in the human experience here,” he mused. It was, more or less, what he was trying to get at with his portrayal And maybe he’d figured it out. “I hope we can show that here.”
“I think we already are” Rhett said with a bright smile. Filming had been going swimmingly so far. He tipped the last of his drink down his throat. Unfortunately, Rhett could not stay long. He needed to get back to the inn and to Tinsley and Moira. But he had really enjoyed this conversation. Hugh had a good head on his shoulders. Rhett started to rise, but then he looked at Hugh and stopped. He put his hand on the man’s shoulder.
“I like you, Hugh,” Rhett said. “You remind me of myself when I was starting out and I think you’ve definitely got the talent to make it far in this game, if that becomes your path. Once the production is over, we’ll talk your next move. But I’m going to let you in on a secret.”
His tone softened and went lower as he leaned in. “No matter how successful you become or how many accolades you receive, your greatest personal achievement in film or on stage won’t ever make you as happy as her.” The small smile on Rhett’s face was wistful and almost sad. “It won’t even hold a candle to it.”
With that, Rhett stood and Hugh glanced up to offer the older actor a small smile of acknowledgement and gratitude as Rhett nodded goodbye and left Hugh to the rest of his evening.