signal from this bout with the flu, it was no holds barred.
“There’s a new interview out with Brad Pershall and she thinks it has incendiary potential,” he admitted, clicking through the channels. “She thinks he’s trying to drum up a Hollywood feud.”
“Didn’t he already lose that feud? Twice ?”
“There’s no feud,” Zane grumbled.
Mark broke a cracker in half and popped one of the pieces in his mouth, thinking that over. “There’s a little bit of a feud.”
A long pause followed, filled only with the sound of a spoon against a glass bowl. “Maybe a little one,” Zane conceded. “Pershall implied he’s going to ‘dethrone’ me.”
“Want me to find him?” Mark asked. “Punch him in the nose? Break his legs? For you, I’d do this.”
Zane chuckled and it quickly grew to an all out laugh at Mark’s offended expression. “Mark, you can’t bend past forty-five degrees without your sinuses exploding, and you want to pick a fight? I heard Pershall is all crazy for Krav-Maga; you’ll get creamed.”
Soup dribbled down Mark’s chin and he fumbled around for a napkin. “I’m full of kung fu,” he said sloppily.
“Well, you’re full of something…” Mark dug his heel down into Zane’s leg until he yelped. “By that, I meant I love you.”
Mark gave a loud slurp in answer. Zane finally settled on watching Legends Of The Fall because he knew it was one of Mark’s favorites and because he’d be too busy trying to hide how often it made him cry to notice how much script reading was going on at the other end of the sofa.
Zane didn’t know what was bothering him so much lately, but as he flipped the first script open he felt the discomfort scratching at the back of his mind. It was as if the next movie he made was a declaration of war—like he was making a statement about the man that he was and not backing down. He’d thought that Sacrifice was that film, but it turned out it was the last step before the fork in the road. He’d finished up production on Blood Red Banner, the second Mercenary movie, in June, but that wasn’t because he’d been thrilled by the script, it was because he was contractually obligated. So, what now?
Making movies wasn’t like running into burning buildings to save people, he understood that; it wasn’t heroic. But Zane remembered when he was young and trying to figure his life out, how great it was to escape into a movie for a few hours. Now, he had his dream job and his work served the same purpose for his fans; the films were a way to forget and he wanted to work on projects that were worth the time spent watching them. He didn’t want fleas like Pershall making people itch for attention’s sake.
Zane wasn’t worried about Brad from an acting standpoint. He simply had no patience for the way one article was about to waste his time. He’d sit down for interviews and instead of talking about work or life, he’d be talking about Pershall’s work and life, and whether or not he saw Details magazine this month. There’d be rumors about the two of them being at odds and just addressing those rumors would enlarge the non-story . Where days ago the radar had been clear, suddenly there’d be shit everywhere.
It was a junior varsity stunt.
Truth be told, he’d only met Pershall twice and they didn’t exactly speak. It was a handshake, head nod kind of thing. The first time, Pershall seemed star struck when Zane noticed him. The second time was after nearly a year had passed and suddenly, the guy was surrounded by an entourage that was so over the top Zane had laughed. Usually actors had their “handlers” and Zane was one who preferred a couple of very close advisors to a herd of kinsmen. They were actors, not goddamn feudal landowners. Pershall moved around like he was nobility.
Zane didn’t have a grudge against him, but if he kept popping up like this, getting in the way of his work, he’d whip one up quick.
His eyes flicked up to the
“There’s a new interview out with Brad Pershall and she thinks it has incendiary potential,” he admitted, clicking through the channels. “She thinks he’s trying to drum up a Hollywood feud.”
“Didn’t he already lose that feud? Twice ?”
“There’s no feud,” Zane grumbled.
Mark broke a cracker in half and popped one of the pieces in his mouth, thinking that over. “There’s a little bit of a feud.”
A long pause followed, filled only with the sound of a spoon against a glass bowl. “Maybe a little one,” Zane conceded. “Pershall implied he’s going to ‘dethrone’ me.”
“Want me to find him?” Mark asked. “Punch him in the nose? Break his legs? For you, I’d do this.”
Zane chuckled and it quickly grew to an all out laugh at Mark’s offended expression. “Mark, you can’t bend past forty-five degrees without your sinuses exploding, and you want to pick a fight? I heard Pershall is all crazy for Krav-Maga; you’ll get creamed.”
Soup dribbled down Mark’s chin and he fumbled around for a napkin. “I’m full of kung fu,” he said sloppily.
“Well, you’re full of something…” Mark dug his heel down into Zane’s leg until he yelped. “By that, I meant I love you.”
Mark gave a loud slurp in answer. Zane finally settled on watching Legends Of The Fall because he knew it was one of Mark’s favorites and because he’d be too busy trying to hide how often it made him cry to notice how much script reading was going on at the other end of the sofa.
Zane didn’t know what was bothering him so much lately, but as he flipped the first script open he felt the discomfort scratching at the back of his mind. It was as if the next movie he made was a declaration of war—like he was making a statement about the man that he was and not backing down. He’d thought that Sacrifice was that film, but it turned out it was the last step before the fork in the road. He’d finished up production on Blood Red Banner, the second Mercenary movie, in June, but that wasn’t because he’d been thrilled by the script, it was because he was contractually obligated. So, what now?
Making movies wasn’t like running into burning buildings to save people, he understood that; it wasn’t heroic. But Zane remembered when he was young and trying to figure his life out, how great it was to escape into a movie for a few hours. Now, he had his dream job and his work served the same purpose for his fans; the films were a way to forget and he wanted to work on projects that were worth the time spent watching them. He didn’t want fleas like Pershall making people itch for attention’s sake.
Zane wasn’t worried about Brad from an acting standpoint. He simply had no patience for the way one article was about to waste his time. He’d sit down for interviews and instead of talking about work or life, he’d be talking about Pershall’s work and life, and whether or not he saw Details magazine this month. There’d be rumors about the two of them being at odds and just addressing those rumors would enlarge the non-story . Where days ago the radar had been clear, suddenly there’d be shit everywhere.
It was a junior varsity stunt.
Truth be told, he’d only met Pershall twice and they didn’t exactly speak. It was a handshake, head nod kind of thing. The first time, Pershall seemed star struck when Zane noticed him. The second time was after nearly a year had passed and suddenly, the guy was surrounded by an entourage that was so over the top Zane had laughed. Usually actors had their “handlers” and Zane was one who preferred a couple of very close advisors to a herd of kinsmen. They were actors, not goddamn feudal landowners. Pershall moved around like he was nobility.
Zane didn’t have a grudge against him, but if he kept popping up like this, getting in the way of his work, he’d whip one up quick.
His eyes flicked up to the
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