Chapter Text
The door behind the last auditioner closes with a soft click, and the show of professionalism Sarah Cameron had been putting on for the last four hours withers like a weak flower. She practically collapses in on herself, ending in a crumpled heap on top of the desk in front of them.
Pope smirks to himself. No wonder Miss Cameron had found her path in Hollywood. She is certainly dramatic enough.
“You would think,” Sarah says, her words muffled as she refuses to lift her head, “that after so many years in Hollywood, I would be used to this.”
“You’ve been a casting director for 18 months.”
“And what a long 18 months they’ve been!” Sarah exclaims, finally sitting up and throwing her hair back. “When you have to watch auditions like that every day,” she scoffs, “it takes years off your life.”
Yeah, definitely dramatic enough. The audition hadn’t even been bad – a bit bland, maybe, but nothing this life-threatening.
“I thought you had already found your star,” Pope teases, dragging out the headshot Sarah had surrounded in little purple stars.
Pope has a feeling a sparkly heart or two would’ve found their way on that photo if Sarah had a glitter pen on hand.
“You don’t like her,” Sarah bites back.
“I never said that.”
Pope stares at the girl again, reading over her name. Kiara Carrera.
“You think she’s too green,” Sarah spits out, punctuating her bitter tone with a side eye that has probably left men dead before.
With a nod of his head, he doesn’t even try to disagree. “It’d be her first major gig. I mean, we saw people with more Emmy nominations than she has commercial credits.”
“First of all, she was in Stranger Things–”
“It was one scene in one episode–”
“And second of all, we aren’t looking for an Emmy nominations list, Pope, we’re looking for a star! I saw her at an actors’ workshop a few months ago, she blew everyone out of the water with a two-page scene. Besides,” Sarah adds, “should you really be judging someone for being too new at this? Isn't this your first novel adaptation? In fact, isn't this your first series ever? And your first time exec producing?”
“Valid point, but–”
“God, this is why you hired me,” Sarah jumps in, barely letting Pope get a word in. “She felt like the right fit, didn’t she?”
Pope tilts his head to one side, unsure. “She read for it pretty well.”
It’s all Sarah needs to hear. “Hell yeah she did! She killed it!”
Pope sighs. It’s not that he didn’t like Kiara, he just doesn’t want to fuck this one up. Someone was dumb enough to come into his stupid little town one day and ask him to buy the book that he published on his blog. His blog on Tumblr . The one he started to have somewhere to word-vomit whenever he needed to. He did not think anyone actually read “The Daily Gospel”. Sure, he had 19 followers at one point, but he was pretty sure 17 of them were bots, and the other two were John B and Yvonne, and John B didn’t even understand the blog name. Point is, someone bought his book, and then someone else was even more stupid and asked Pope to write another, and then another. And then a whole third person was even dumber than the first two, because she decided to make his books into a series for one of the biggest streamers in the world. So excuse him for knowing that his luck’s bound to run out at some point, and trying his hardest to make sure that point is as far into the future as possible. “But we have no idea how she’ll handle being the anchor for a franchise.”
Sarah huffs, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. “That’s why we have your guy.”
Pope looks up at her with wide eyes. “My guy? You agree with my guy?”
“No,” Sarah says firmly, placing her hand on the table. “I think he’s a flight risk.”
She’s not wrong, is the thing. Pope didn’t watch that much TV growing up, but even he knew who JJ Maybank was before he stepped into this room almost nine weeks ago.
But there’s something about the way he approached the role, and some things he said about the character… Pope just knows in his gut he’s the right guy for this.
“He’s clearly talented enough to handle the role,” he argues.
“And so are a million other guys out there,” Sarah says, gesturing to the hallway that, four hours ago, had been filled to the brim with guys who were fighting to fill the role. “And none of them have a horrific ex-child-actor-with-a-potential-substance-problem-and-definite-authority-issues background.”
Pope bristles. “He just gets the character, Sarah.”
Sarah looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “Alright, I’ll bite. What did he say to you that makes you so sure he’ll be the best fit for Leonick?”
“I just have a feeling.”
“A feeling?”
A few weeks ago, Sarah’s look would’ve sent a chill down Pope’s spine. But he’d gotten to know her, over the course of the past several weeks. Spending days on end in the beigest room ever, watching a mind-numbing display of “serious aspiring actors”, Tiktokers, and one-hit Youtubers, all trying to convince them that they are not going to totally butcher Pope’s novel, will do that.
She cares about making this a success as much as he does, is the point, because he’s pretty sure John B would’ve already gotten the lead by now if she didn’t. The way Sarah was eyeing him like a very colorful ice cream cone on a hot summer day the minute he walked into the audition room? Yeah, even Pope saw that.
And Lord knows Pope loves his best friend. He really does. He put him on the cover of his novel, that’s how much he loves him. But Pope’s dad would make a better Leonick than John B does. He’s sure better at acting - the way he pretends he has no idea what Yvonne is talking about when she asks where her dessert of the week disappeared to? The man really puts on an oscar-winning performance every single week.
Pope shakes his head, relenting. “Yeah, the same one you have about your Thessa pick.”
Sarah waves him off. “I’m a casting professional–” even she rolls her eyes a little bit when she says that “–I’m allowed to have gut instincts. You–”
“I created these characters,” Pope interjects. He hates playing the I know my characters best card. Feels like a jackass doing it. But it doesn’t make it any less true. “I know them, Sarah, and I know who understands them best.”
“So you’re willing to hinge the success of the show on Maybank?”
Pope winces. “Are you willing to hinge it on Kiara?”
Sarah lets that sink for a minute. Presses the tips of her fingers to her temple like she’s physically mulling it over, then reaches for the girl’s headshot. She runs the pads of her fingers over the name under the photo, then taps her nose like she’s made her decision. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
Pope nods. “That’s how I feel about JJ Maybank.”
Sarah chews on her lip for a second. “I’m not entirely convinced, but I’ll admit I can’t think of anyone who necessarily had a better audition than he did.”
“Kiara has the look,” Pope concedes.
Sarah looks down at the sheets of paper on the desk in front of them. Pope watches her shuffle through them to find JJ’s headshot, then holds it out next to Kiara’s at different intervals. Finally, she drops them to the table.
“They sure make a pretty-looking couple,” she muses.
Pope nods. “They had good chemistry, too.”
“They both seemed to have their guard up a little bit, but there were some looks there that were a little too good ,” Sarah agrees. “And am I dreaming or did he slip her her line?”
“No, he totally did. She had a bit of a blank moment there and he fed her the line.”
“Okay, so he might not be completely terrible for the role,” Sarah admits.
Pope smiles, meets her halfway. “And when she got over her nerves, Kiara delivered the line perfectly.”
Sarah shrugs. “They complement each other.”
Pope sighs. Rubs a hand down his face. “If we don’t make a decision today, what happens?”
Sarah winces. “Ward makes the call.”
Pope stares blankly at her. “I still think it’s weird that you refer to him as Ward when he’s literally your dad,” he mutters.
“Pope, focus,” Sarah says, waving a hand in front of his face that does very little other than distract him and make him go cross-eyed. “Topper’s an old family friend, I know if it comes down to it, he’s going to pick him for Leonick. And I bet he’ll have someone just as bad for Thessalia.”
Pope blanches. Not Topper. Anyone but Topper.
Well, shit.
They’re very close to making a decision, Pope can feel it. Or they have to be, anyway, if he doesn’t want Ward Cameron to completely butcher his books. Suddenly, his stomach is in knots. He takes a deep breath. Tries to keep his nerves in check. “I think that’s the best we can hope for, at this point. We might not be completely on the same page, but I trust you more than I trust Ward, that’s for sure.”
Sarah nods. “I hope your hunch about Maybank is right,” she mutters.
Pope returns the sentiment in kind. “I hope yours is right about Carrera.”
She nods at that, seeming to accept the challenge as she stares down at the photos again. With an overdramatic sigh, she turns back to him, holding her hand out for him to shake.
“So we have them? Our leads?”
Pope scrubs a hand down his face again. Sends out a prayer to whoever is listening that he’s not setting his entire life’s work on fire with a single decision, then shakes Sarah’s hand with a small smile.
“We have our Thessalia and Leonick.”
