Participants:
| Scene Title | I Came For You |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Wendy's puttering around the set, because she has nothing better to do and she's got a thing for Maxwell. Max, well Max is being Max and enjoying the company. |
| Date | July 15, 2009 |
Multiple Man Set
It's been a long day on the set, filled with acrobatics, pyrotechnics and long, long, long, long shoots of one scene. The movie business is horribly repetitive. The stunts even, have had to be repeated multiple times.
Max is beat. He's sprawled out on a law chair back towards the craft food cart. Doesn't matter that it's inside - actors still need to put their feet up. He's got a heating pad held against his side and is taking pulls from a bottle of water. He just spent the last hour in a harness, doing some wire-fu fighting.
Most fans, most do the shuffle dance, as if unsure whether to approach or not. To disturb? Not disturb?
Wendy seems to be lacking celebrity wonderment gene. Well not really. She still has stood from afar and done the sighs and worshiping from a distance. But after he's had some few minutes alone and undisturbed, flops goes Wendy in a seat adjacent. "You're pretty good"
"Yeah, well, that's why I'm here," says Max. His eyes are closed and he grins as he says this. He shifts to move the heating pad a little lower, then blinks and rolls his head to look at Wendy. Oh yes. The visitor. He eyes her badge, then glances back to her face. "You're not bored out of your mind, hanging around here yet?"
"Nah, I like mundane. There's something to be said for getting something just right. takes a lot to bore me. Wait no, just takes a boardroom full of stuffy suits and then, then I just might be bored. Besides, one of the crew promised they'd hoist me up in a rig when it wasn't needed anymore and before they tore it down" There's an offer of her hand. "Wendy Hunter. Hunter Communications."
"Oooh. Word to the wise?" Max quirks a wry little grin, "If you see a short dude with crazy blonde curls, big plastic framed glasses and wearing a suit? Make sure you're not doing anything fun. He's the insurance guy. And he loves to freak out." He reaches forward to shake her hand. "Sorry for not getting up." He lifts up the side of his shirt to reveal a large, purpling bruise. "The wire rig isn't as fun as it looks. Uh, Max Quinn." He's not big enough to assume people know who he is.
"Saw him. He gave me the evil eye." Wendy nods. 'Then told me to put my smoke out. He muttered about lung cancers odds. I tell you, 9 years from now, he will be dead from a heart attack." Her hand is warm and it's no wimpy limp handshake. "Hey Max, yeah, I knew your name already and my god that is… beautiful." The bruise that is, though she's lacking the audacity to actually reach over and touch it. almost lacking. "Well, Max, that's why you make the big bucks huh. Whats your next project after this one?"
Maxwell winces and shifts the position of the heat pack. His face relaxes when he gets it in juuust the right spot. Ahh. He chuckles at the description of the insurance guy. "Yeah. That's Artie all right. But it can't be easy, knowing the mathematical odds of catastrophe. He's having a fit at me doing my own stunts. But I'm a stuntman. Just because I read lines doesn't mean that I get someone to stand in for me."
He takes another long drink of water. "After this? Got a few possibilities. A few TV guest spots to help promote the movie. Trying, trying to get onto a Bruckheimer film. But I don't really have enough credits to my name. His people're waiting to see how this movie does first. It's hard to look too far into the future when you're wrapped up in something controversial. They wanna make sure that I'm still bankable after this thing gets done." If it gets done. "What's your interest in this anyway, oh Wendy of Hunter Communications?"
"I like you" There's a shrug from the black haired googly eyed woman. "I asked my dad to get me in, to watch you know, and well. My dad has never disappointed. Bruckheimer eh? What's so controversial other than the sheer amount of trouble that Humanis First keeps plaguing this thing with. I think he needs to just shut up and hire you. You give your all, from what I've seen. I mean, can you imagine Brad Pitt with a bruise like that and just relaxing on a chair?"
"Oh, I heard Pitt was tough shit back in the day. Now most've the big stars can't afford to get hurt. The bankable types don't get to do anything fun. I better hope I never become bankable." Max chuckles loosely, but it causes a spike of pain in his side. He shifts upwards and calls over to a production assistant. "Lucy? Could you please grab my kit from my trailer? Thanks."
Lucy the PA nods to max, smacks her gum and flicks a switch on the radio at her hip. She tugs at a ring of keys on her belt and heads towards a row of trailers at the far end of the sound stage.
He looks back to Wendy and puts on his best charming little grin as she tells him she's here for him. Well then. "Well, the fact that my character is Evolved. How this is any different than a comic book movie, I'm not sure. That and the depiction of Evolved terrorists. And some people're upset that we're shooting in Midtown."
"Know what I think?" and Wendy leans over conspiratorially, slightly squinting. "I think that people need to grow thicker skins, and suck it up. It's a movie. It's a reflection of real time events. Would they throw so much a fit if it was a movie that featured the lack of the twin towers? No, probably not. They need to grow up and realize that this movie, brought so many jobs to the city and that the midtown ruins is a landmark and that by filming here, it's the city and the country telling the world that we persevered after a great unthinkable disaster. It's not like you're running around and desecrating it. I bet they'll put a memorium in at the end of the movie in remembrance of those who died" That and… well, she's not gonna say it. Which is strange for her but it has to do with the adoration factor.
Maxwell holds up a hand, grins at Wendy and reaches out to touch her shoulder gently. "You're preaching to the choir. It doesn't make sense, but," he lifts a shoulder. "Well, Humanis First feels strongly enough that they killed six people." His good mood drops off a little and his eyes go distant.
Just then, Lucy the PA returns with a shaving kit bag. "Thanks," he says to Lucy. The PA just smacks her gum, flicks her radio on again, gives Wendy a look and then wanders off.
Max digs into the kit and comes out with a bottle of prescription pills. He pops two into his mouth and then swallows. He grins a bit sheepishly. "I'm not hooked on painkillers or anything. They're just anti-inflammatories."
ohhh he read that look so god on her face. r maybe not. "You can still get addicted. Your body gets used to a certain level in your bloodstream and it drops off and you can go through withdrawal.It's not like harder pills" God she remembers that. "But it can still be nasty" Her hands come up, warding off any angry words that may come as a result of her own words. "She doesn't like me. I thinks he thinks that I'm trying to get in your pants"
"Who, Lucy?" Max's lip curls into a little grin as he peers after the PA. "That sour look is glued to her face. Sides, she probably likes you and not me," a wink. He shifts the heating pad out of the way and very carefully gets to his feet. "Don't worry. I've got an agent and a publicist monitoring my pill intake." Hard to tell if he's serious about that or not. "I only take 'em after the real big owies."
"Ooooh tough man" She's taking his standing up as him time to take off and go. "Keep up the good work. Who knows. Maybe Bruckhiemer will come calling. I got a feeling" Wendy grins then, big, wide, toothy. "And Lucy's not my type. Maybe that's why she's scowling."
"Hey, bunch've us are going over to the uh…" Max snaps and squints. "…Orchid Bar," Lounge. "Tomorrow after shooting. You should come by." Another one of his trademark little half-grins. "I gotta go. Gotta meet with the producer, probably get myself in a hot tub and make this swelling go down. Another long one tomorrow."
"I'll see if I have time. Even I have a job too Max." But she making a shooing motion, sending him away. Go, rest, soak. Her inner crush has been sated.