Post by Cassidy Adler on Sept 19, 2021 9:29:25 GMT -5
Francis Adler Junior, much like his father, was both shrewd and ruthless when it came to identifying opportunities — and more importantly — making the most of them. He stepped into the less than ideal accommodation that he had selected, something which had earned him the ire of Cassidy for the entirety of the trip, who had been expecting to spend both his travel time and logistic arrangements handled by Philidor as they had been for the last few weeks.
As was befitting for one of the two middle children of the Adler family though, things had not gone Cassidy’s way. Instead, they had flown economy (something he hadn’t done since he was 19 with his friends ‘as a joke’) and only a few hours ago had arrived in a shoddy rental car into what looked like a one-star motel, its rundown rooms forming a uniform u-shape, the wood looking as though it was termite infested and the two family members who owned the small business appearing as if they would benefit largely from a visit from Cassidy’s personal dentist.
Frank approached Cassidy — who was sunk into the rock hard couch which doubled as a pullout bed — with a stack of papers in hand, which he promptly dropped with a loud thud on the makeshift table in front of his brother, who begrudgingly glanced upward, giving an off-handed gesture to the pile before him.
“The fuck is this?” he said, the annoyance in his voice evident. Frank gave him a warm smile, relishing in his younger brother’s frustration. He raised his hands upward in innocence.
“Nothing major. Just some scene ideas for your little project. Plus, some scripts. We’re gonna do a line reading.”
Cassidy’s gaze swung between the papers, then Frank’s face, assessing it to determine whether or not he was having his leg pulled. He dropped his phone to his side and leaned forward, snatching the first paper from the pile and giving it a once over, his frown deepening. He gave an adamant shake of the head.
“Nah, no way. Not playing these games, Frankie. First, you get me out here on fuckin’ economy and check me into this joke of a room-”
“It’s part of the scene! We’re getting the camera crew in soon. Gotta get the humble side of you, you feel?”
“No, no I don’t. I’m not some fuckin’ D1 athlete doing a documentary pretending I grew up in the projects and didn’t have anything growing up. Everybody knows I’m maxed out in the clout department and I got mad connections, so why the fuck am I slumming it here when I should be getting ready to punch Graham Faker in the goddamn mouth in a couple days?”
Frankie’s smile widened, showing off his teeth which had been whitened so many times they could reflect the sun.
“You get that?"
From behind the couch, a cameraman who had sprung up moments earlier with a camera in hand, which he now had pointed directly over Cassidy’s shoulder, who now turned to look at it with ire.
“You fuckin’ kidding me?”
“Dead serious, bro. We got work to do! You don’t want this shit to flop, right?”
Silence from Cassidy. Frank clapped him on the shoulder.
“Then we got to get the best content we can, and getting these moments of pure, raw emotion is exactly what we’ll be needing. Can’t have it all be highs, you know? There has to be a bit of range in there to make it more exciting, more dynamic. Didn’t you learn anything from Juilliard?”
“Maybe if you’d stuck around, you’d have known I dropped out my first year.” Cassidy retorted, venom dripping from his voice.
“Of course I knew! A year’s a long time, Cass.” Frank said, cheerily. He gestured to the cameraman, who circled around the couch and left the small room to give the two some privacy.
“So, what do you say? We getting started, or what?”
Another shake of the head from Cassidy.
“Fuck your script. I don’t give a damn what you or dad have to say about it, and I sure as hell don’t give a shit about your role as a ‘project manager’ or ‘supervisor’ or whatever stupid title he gave you.”
Frank shrugged, the grin still plastered over his face, which was growing to annoy Cassidy even further.
“Okay, okay. Try it your way. When you need your boy’s help though, you know I'll be here. Like I said, you don’t want this shit flopping. I trust you’ll make the right calls.” Frank said, though the subtle hints of sarcasm in his voice very much suggested that he had no faith in Cassidy at all. However, the latter seemed to take no note of this, instead focusing on the fact that he had gotten Frankie to back off: a win in his book. A smirk appeared on his face, as he went back on his phone.
“You know it. There’s a reason I’m the champ now.”