Make Sure They See My Face: Act III (Rated R)

Oct 31, 2007 11:35

RPF/RPS/Entourage/CRACK!

hackthis Productions Present:

Make Sure They See My Face (The Making of a Movie in Five Acts)

featuring Ari Gold
George Clooney
Shia LaBeouf
and Milo Ventimiglia

With Viggo Mortensen. And some other folks.

Act I: Ari
Act II: Milo


So, apparently, George and Viggo were lying about the sex part, because Shia and Milo shoot a sex scene on the first day of filming.

Shia has heard of this sort of immediate intimacy in theory -- it's supposed to break down the walls between the actors -- but Milo and Shia have been bonding over rap music just fine for the last four days. And since there weren't any sex scenes in Holes, for Shia this is a little bit like jumping into a drained pool.

In fact, when Milo and Shia show up on the set, Viggo announces that they're going to shoot the sex scene twice -- once at the beginning of filming and once at the end. Viggo thinks the awkwardness may be the best part of the entire scene, but he wants to make sure. Shia's pretty sure he and Milo will get the awkward part down in spades. He's also really glad he's kept up with his gym membership. He's no gym fiend, but three times a week is better than being pasty and scrawny on screen.

While he and Milo are rehearsing random bits of the script, the make-up girls put make-up in places that Shia doesn't normally have make-up. He would feel strange about this but it's hard to be modest at five the morning. It helps that Milo's standing next to him in the trailer with his pants around his ankles and his eyes half open, too. It sort of turns the whole preparation into a bonding experience. Well, as much as anybody can bond when they're busy mainlining coffee.

Shia signed up for this movie based on the star power, based on thinking this would be the experience of a lifetime. He's starting to think it's going to be an experience all right -- one that's going to give him frostbite.

It's now past eight in the morning, and Shia's shirtless, shoeless and plastered against Milo on a rickety twin bed in a tiny bedroom in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. There's no heat, the sun is just a tease through the windows, and it's fucking FREEZING.

Shia's not having regrets. He's too fucking cold for regrets. If he and Milo are practically sitting on top of each other, it's only for the body heat.

They'd tried to put the comforter around themselves earlier, but then the set designer had started fussing, so now Shia's losing feeling in his toes and his nose.

When Milo squirms underneath where Shia's legs are thrown across his thighs, Shia shivers.

"Dude, stop moving," Milo commands.

"Getting excited a little early?" Shia quips. When Milo leans in and bites him on his bare shoulder, Shia laughs. "I thought you were a vegetarian."

Milo snickers. "People are another food group altogether."

"I see you marking your property," Viggo calls from where he's talking to the lighting director. Both Milo and Shia laugh, but Shirley from make-up makes a tsking noise as she comes over and she puts foundation over the wet mark.

"I have his name on my ass," Shia shifts, grabbing the waistband of his jeans as though he's about to flash the crew. "Wanna see?" The entire set erupts with laughter.

Milo flashes the star tattoo on the inside of his right arm instead. "I was going to get Shia's name in hearts," he says matter-of-factly to the gaffers, "but the star seemed more appropriate for The Box Office Kid."

"Okay, Flying Man," Shia pokes Milo in the ribs. "Where'd you put your wings?"

"I wish I had some actually," Milo whispers in Shia's ear. "I'd pluck them to make a feather blanket so I could stop freezing my ass off."

"Wow, so you won't eat meat, but you'd skin yourself," Shia mocks in a low tone. "Interesting."

It's Milo's turn to poke Shia in the ribs and he doesn't giggle. He's 21. He doesn't giggle.

"Viggo, it's kinda cold," Milo offers. It's too early in the shoot for them to be complaining, but Milo seems to be pointing this out without demanding a three-alarm fire, so that's good. Shia is going to pretend he can't see Milo's breath either. He is thinking of Hawaii. He is warm. Viggo's been talking about visualization exercises for the last four days. This is visualization. Visualization that he can feel his toes.

"It's Canada, little brothers," Viggo says, clapping his bare hands together. "Numbness is good for awkwardness. It will make the experience that much more honest."

Milo twitches and Shia moves that much closer.

It is really fucking cold. He knew Viggo was big on method acting. Ari warned him repeatedly. Of course Ari also said that Shia wasn't to take it up the ass without a condom, so there is that.

It's amazing how many people you can fit in a room when you're filming a sex scene; Shia kind of hopes at least 10 of them will be leaving soon. He doubts it though, and he doesn't really want to think about how much colder it'll get if they do leave.

Finally, Viggo smiles benevolently and claps his hands again. "All right, little stars, are you ready to get to work?"

Milo looks over at Shia, who can't help shrugging. "It's not like we haven't already kissed," he points out.

"Ah," Viggo says, beginning to usher the excess crew out of the bedroom, "but have you kissed like this?"

Shia finds himself sucking in his cheeks suddenly. Everything has been leading up to this moment, and he doesn't know quite what makes him tackle Milo onto the cool sheets, but he's an actor and this is acting.

This is what they do.

The lighting mirrors the sunlight filtering through the window perfectly, and Milo blinks up at Shia with huge hazel eyes, his tongue wetting his upper lip.

Someone somewhere says 'action' and so that's what Shia gives: his mouth on Milo's, Milo's fingers tangled in his hair, and his thigh insinuated between Milo's legs.

This is action.

In a matter of seconds, Shia goes from freezing, to warm, to sweaty and sticky and hot. Milo's hands are on his shoulders and his back and grabbing his ass, and for two whole minutes there's no talking, no make-up girl poking at them, no director ordering them to tilt their head left or right or to stop blocking the shot. For this moment there is nothing but two guys kissing on a rusty twin bed in Regina, Canada.

There is nothing but them.

This is acting.

*

The Frayed Edge is a story about getting lost and being found and making a home of your own. It's about making your own family and cleaning up your mistakes and not letting society dictate to you. Shia's character, Simon, is trying to find himself and in the process he finds a family in this diner where he eats every day. He also finds Noah, Milo's character, who's sort of drifting through town. Noah has his own history.

At least this is what Viggo says, but Shia is sitting around the hotel bar with his surrogate family to be, Kerry Washington and John Barrowman, and John's got some different ideas.

"That's all bullshit," John says with a laugh. He's gesturing madly with his arms, and his beer is slopping out of his pint glass and all over his hand. "It's about sex. Everything is about sex!"

Kerry's sitting on Shia's right, nursing a large vodka and orange juice, but Shia can see her grinning around her glass. "Now why do you want to tell him that?" she asks, putting her drink on the bar top. "You'll make him nervous. Shia, don't be nervous about kissing guys, I do it all the time."

John snickers on Shia's left. "Yeah, so do I."

This shouldn't be as funny as it is, but apparently, it's hysterical. Kerry almost falls off of her bar stool, and when Shia tries to grab her arm, she elbows him in the forehead and that's even funnier. Or maybe that's just the alcohol. It's two in the morning and they're due on the set in three hours, but there's not much else for them to do in Regina, except freeze.

John wipes the tears from his eyes, still chuckling, and orders them a round of shots under the heading of, "Courage in the face of discovering you love men. And because it's colder than a Scotsman in a kilt in January in this bitch."

And then the howling starts all over again. One thing leads to another, and when Shia's whiskey goes down the wrong way, John decides that what Shia really needs is the Heimlich maneuver.

It's not really a maneuver, since John seems much more intent on feeling Shia up.

"Don't worry," John says cheerfully, "I have an old man back in London. If I left him for jailbait, he'd kill me."

"I turned 21 in June," Shia protests. John has huge hands. "I'm not jailbait!"

"I turned 40 in March," John says. "But I'm preparing to be Sir Ian McKellen in my next life, so come back when I'm sixty."

Kerry's laughter comes out in wheezes, and Shia could object to being objectified, but John is 6' and really warm. They've been in Canada eight days, and Shia doesn't think he'll ever feel his toes again.

When Shia cranes his head back to look at John, his vertebrae crack. "That's not a good sound," John says with a raised eyebrow.

Shia snorts. "That's what happens when you're on the bottom all the time."

John cracks up, nearly poking himself in the eye when he releases Shia, and Kerry starts wheezing all over again. "It's not my fault," Shia's delivery is perfectly deadpan. "Milo can be really pushy that way."

"I can be really pushy about what?" a familiar voice pipes up from right behind Shia.

Shia turns towards Milo with a face-splitting grin. "I was telling John and Kerry that you're really stingy with the lube, and that you never let me be on top."

Milo blinks once, twice. "He always complains to other people that I ride him too hard," he says matter-of-factly to Kerry and John. Shia coughs loudly when Milo claps him on the shoulder and pulls him into a hug. "But I didn't hear him complaining last night."

Shia's glad Milo's holding him up or he might collapse on the floor in hysterics.

"I like you," John declares. "I need to buy you a drink. Or six. And then I can have my way with you."

Milo hugs Shia that much tighter. "Sorry, I don't drink."

When Shia turns to stare at Milo, his nose brushes the side of Milo's cheek. "You don't drink?" he asks incredulously. Milo smiles with his tongue between his teeth.

Kerry is gaping openly, but John just sighs and shakes his head in Shia's periphery. "I knew you were too hot to be right in the head."

*

There are all kinds of bonding activities that take place on movie sets: sports, sex, meals, sex, pranks, sex, tattoos, sex. Shia's never taken advantage of the sex activities on his films, because he prefers not to shit on his own doorstep. However, Viggo's arranged a special team dinner for the cast, and if Kerry keeps wearing dresses like the red number she's wearing tonight, Shia may have to rethink this plan.

Kerry's ten years older than he is, but so is Milo, and they're selling the movie based on their age difference, so Shia may have a prayer. Somewhere.

Shia pauses in the entrance of the dining room and straightens his tie. Kerry's currently hanging on John's arm and they seem to having a very intriguing discussion about something or other, but Milo's not here yet nor is Viggo. There are, however, a closed set of double doors just ahead that Shia thinks is where dinner is going to be held.

"I wasn't suspicious about your conversation until you stopped talking," Shia mocks when John and Kerry stop talking upon his approach. "Family aren't supposed to have secrets."

John snorts. "Family is nothing but secrets. Your mom slept with your sister's sister-in-law, your dad is really your mom, your sister is really your mom..." John dies off at the looks from Shia and Kerry. "What? Like you've never watched soap operas before!"

"Milo used to be on a soap opera," Kerry says slyly.

"I was not!" Yet again, Milo's managed to sneak up on Shia, and he doesn't know what to make of that. It's like Milo's just appearing out of thin air.

Maybe Shia's been watching too much Heroes.

"Gilmore Girls was totally a soap opera," Kerry counters. "I watched it, I know!"

"I watched it too," John adds, "Well, I did until it became clear that Jess and Dean weren't going to sleep together."

"I thought they did," Kerry says.

"It was off camera," Milo offers, slinging an arm across Shia's shoulders. Shia had thought he was finally feeling warm because of Kerry, but Milo's wearing this nice suit and Shia's hormones are confused. It's a really nice suit and he smells good, not that John's not wearing a nice suit too, but Milo looks like something out of a fashion magazine. He's even wearing a tie clip.

"I didn't think people actually wore tie clips." Shia yanks on Milo's tie.

"It's a style accessory," Milo protests.

"Are you sure you're not gay?" John steps forward and straightens Milo's tie. "I mean, I'd do you."

Kerry nods. "Me too."

Three sets of eyes turn towards Shia expectantly. "Oh, I already did Milo today," he says nonchalantly. "And twice yesterday."

"I think that's what the whole movie is about," a very familiar voice calls from a few feet away, and when the foursome turns around George Clooney is standing there.

With Viggo.

And Brad Pitt.

Milo's arm slips from Shia's shoulders, and if they're staring, who can really blame them? Kerry is the first one to react. "Brad!" she exclaims, letting go of John's arm and crossing the room to hug Brad fucking Pitt.

Shia's internal Ari starts yapping in his ear at hundred foul words a minute and his ears start to ring. It could be because Shia's now been rendered blind and deaf by all this star power. It takes a moment for Shia to remember that Kerry and Brad worked on Mr. and Mrs. Smith together, or, as Ari likes to call it, The Homewreckers R' Us Show.

"I think I've died and go to movie star heaven," Shia says quietly, watching Kerry, George and Viggo making John's introductions to Brad.

Shia twitches when Milo's arm reattaches itself to his shoulder and Milo whispers right in his ear, "Heaven, huh? I didn't know I'd see you here."

When Shia turns, Milo is right there. Milo has obviously decided that personal space doesn't really exist for two guys who keep exchanging as much saliva as they have. They could totally be kissing. Again.

Maybe Ari was right to be concerned that George was going to make Shia gay.

Not that any of this is in the script. In fact, in the script, they only have three kissing scenes, which are meted out by a whole lot of time on the Canadian tundra shooting tins off of barrels and other bucolic, repressed activities. Viggo is a method director though and he wants them comfortable. Or at least obsessively dysfunctional. His instructions were, "Look at your co-star like you would burn down the world for him."

Shia wouldn't burn down the world for Milo, but Milo likes Jay-Z, and they talk about Shia's label, Element, a lot. Milo doesn't drink, which is strange, but Shia would rather deal with a teetotaler than go through the parent-in-rehab thing again, thanks.

If Milo was the only other person left on the planet, Shia wouldn't --

"I admit I was a little dubious about Peter Petrelli and the kid from Disturbia playing Noah and Simon," Brad Pitt's voice calls out, "but if they're anything like this in the movie, then I think we're all going to Cannes."

Shia shakes his head when he realizes that he and Milo have been having what Viggo calls 'a moment.' They pull away from each other automatically, and George calls out, "Don't stop on our account. Please. I need to make sure my investment is gay."

"Sound," Brad automatically corrects. "He means 'sound', don’t you, George?"

George smirks. "I don't know, do I?"

Shia gives Milo a rueful look and then turns back to their audience, announcing in his most sardonic tone, "If you make me gay, Ari is going to be pissed."

"Ari needs to --" Brad's cut off by Viggo's hand over his mouth.

"Let's not ruin dinner before we even sit down," Viggo announces.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," George agrees. "So let's eat dinner and ruin things afterwards."

*

Shia had never even heard of John Barrowman until ten days ago when they did their first table read, but now he wonders how he lived this long without seeing John standing on the dining room table singing, "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things," from The Sound of Music.

Kerry, George and Brad murdered the back-up vocals while Shia kept their champagne glasses full -- with juice for Milo -- and it was around John's singing about 'cream colored ponies' that Shia realized that this movie has probably spoiled him forever.

No movie is ever going to be like this one.

At the end of the song, John jumped down and planted a huge kiss on Brad, which George broke up by kissing John himself.

It was the single gayest thing Shia had ever seen, and he'd been sleeping with Milo Ventimiglia for six days. On camera.

When John and George were done, everyone clapped enthusiastically. And more drinks were ordered. And it was around this time that the shots came out. Limoncello shots. Shia doesn't remember much after that.

Apparently John thought it would be advisable to play Spin the Bottle, but Milo was tired, and probably had had enough of watching the drunken people acting crazy.

Shia had graciously offered to walk Milo back to his room, or maybe that was the other way around. There'd been a lot of heckling, which Shia probably won't remember in the morning anyway. In fact, he doesn't even really remember how to use his own phone, which is why when Ari calls, all Shia hears is, "I can smell it."

"What?" Shia asks rather brilliantly as Milo opens the door to his room and pushes Shia inside. Shia stumbles directly into a chair that hadn't been there when he left, and he sprawls into it rather than trying to figure out how to get around it.

"Golden Goose, are you fucking drunk?!"

Shia hiccups. "George's fault. He got shots."

"GEORGE GOT SHOT?!" Ari shrieks. Shia has never heard Ari shriek before. It sounds a lot like a 13 year-old girl.

"No, shots," Shia hiccups again. "Limoncello. Many shots. Brad said too many shots."

Ari's quiet for fifteen whole seconds, but Shia's too drunk to think about what this means. "Brad," Ari repeats after a moment. "Brad who?"

Shia laughs and hiccups. "Brad Pitt, Ari. Duh."

"What the fucking fuck?! Do you mean George brought the Ass Monkey to the production?! Where the fuck are you? I swear to God--"

It's around this time that Milo takes Shia's phone away and turns it off. "Oops," he says with an unapologetic smirk. "I guess the signal got dropped."

Shia hiccups again. Milo's taking off his tie and for the first time Shia realizes this isn't his room. "'m not gay," he says, kicking off his shoes and unsteadily getting to his feet.

Milo snorts. "That's good, because we're not having sex."

Shia nods, even as he's trying to figure out how to take off his own tie. Milo bats his hands away and unloosens it for him. "'xactly," Shia agrees.

Shia looks down and decides he's taken off enough clothes. "I'm going to sleep now," he announces, heading straight for Milo's bed.

Milo says something else, but Shia doesn't hear it, because he's too busy climbing into Milo's bed and passing out.

-- Act IV: Viggo--

This section is dedicated to sparky77

I wish I could put into words how much I love writing this. Oh, wait, I just did!

Soundtrack for Make Sure They See My Face // The Frayed Edge

MSTSMF: Hole // Celebrity; INXS // New Sensation; Dixie Chicks // The Long Way Around; Skee-Lo // I Wish; David Bowie // Cracked Actors; John Lee Hooker // I'm Bad Like Jesse James; Kenna // Man Fading; John Barrowman // Feeling Good

TFE: Supergrass // St Petersberg; Just Jack // Snowflake; Amy Winehouse // Help Yourself; Mos Def // Sun, Moon & Stars; Pulp // Trees; Travis // Driftwood; Gomez // Old China; Incubus // Drive

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rps: make sure they see my face, ari & george

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