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The Backlot - 310 - Hollywood: Backlot Emperor
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Content Warning: This chapter includes consensual adult RPF sexual material, relationship overlap, and discussion of boundaries. No intoxication is used to initiate consent.
Adrian stared at Zooey.
For several seconds, he had no idea what response a sane person was supposed to make, even though the warmth beneath his hand was unmistakably real.
Zooey, meanwhile, looked almost offended that he had not reacted properly.
"What?" she said. "Isn't this what you wanted?"
"Yes. Obviously. I have wanted it in more than one dream." Adrian drew a breath. "But..."
Something was wrong. This was Zooey and not Zooey. She did not look like the clever, odd, elusive woman who usually slipped out of every trap. She looked like someone making a point she had not thought through.
"But what?" Her voice rose. "I am doing this, and you still have a but?"
That, perversely, reassured him. At least some of the old Zooey was still present.
"Things like this usually work better with a little atmosphere."
Zooey opened her mouth as if to say atmosphere was irrelevant. Then she seemed to consider it and frowned.
"Fine. What now?"
Adrian almost rolled his eyes. Tonight she seemed determined to reach some private finish line no matter how awkward the route.
"We talk first."
"Talk?"
"Yes. Revolutionary concept."
He got out, went to the nearby convenience store, and came back with bottled water and two terrible coffees. No alcohol. No shortcuts. If Zooey wanted to make a decision this out of character, he wanted her clear enough to own it.
They sat in the parked car while the coffee cooled.
"How do you feel now?" Adrian asked.
"Annoyed."
"That is familiar."
Zooey's mouth twitched despite herself.
"What happened tonight?" he asked more gently. "You were not acting like yourself. Especially after Emily showed up."
"You really want to know?"
"I am asking because I care."
Zooey looked at him, then laughed under her breath.
"Emily always does that."
"Does what?"
"Takes over a room. Takes over a conversation. Makes everyone think she is calm and reasonable and I am the strange little sister who needs explaining."
Adrian stayed quiet.
"Then you started explaining me to her," Zooey said.
"I was trying to say something good."
"I know. That was the annoying part."
He winced.
"I am sorry."
The apology landed. Zooey looked away and gripped the paper cup between both hands.
"I did not like seeing you with her."
"Because she is your sister?"
"Because she is Emily." Then, after a pause, "And because it was you."
The confession came out so flatly that Adrian needed a second to absorb it.
"Zooey..."
"Do not make a big speech." She turned toward him. "I am clear. I am not drunk. I am not confused. I am angry, but I know what I am doing."
"Then say it plainly."
She held his eyes.
"I want you to kiss me."
That was enough.
Adrian kissed her, slowly at first, giving her every chance to pull away. She did not. Her hands came up around his neck, and when he broke the kiss to check her face, she pulled him back with impatient certainty.
The car was cramped. The windows fogged. They were both adults, both aware this would make everything worse, and neither pretended otherwise.
Later, breathless and half-laughing at the ridiculousness of the space, Zooey rested her forehead against his shoulder.
"Do not look so proud of yourself," she muttered.
"I am trying very hard."
"Try harder."
A few days later, Sanders finally complained.
"Do you know how many times you have left me alone at a party? I had to tell Clooney you had an emergency. Please, Adrian, consider my dignity once in a while."
Adrian had texted Sanders and Clooney before leaving, but Sanders knew exactly what kind of "emergency" it had been.
He could not say that directly, so he complained like an old aunt instead.
"If necessary, I will apologize to George myself," Adrian said. "It was New Year's. Everyone had too many places to be."
The party had rolled into 2003. The holiday season made excuses easier.
Zooey mattered more.
Not only because of the night in the car, though Adrian would be lying if he said he was not pleased. Afterward, once she recovered her usual rhythm, Zooey had laid down terms.
"I can keep seeing you," she had said. "But every time we sleep together, I decide too. I am not moving in with you. And you are not allowed to keep sleeping with other women."
The first term was nonnegotiable and fair. Adrian accepted it immediately.
The second was easy. He was not living with anyone. Naomi and Katie had their own places, even if he paid for more than one roof in practice.
The third was impossible.
Naomi, Katie, Cate. He would not let go of them. Jordana and Camilla were their own messes for different reasons. Nicole had turned into an unanswered question he did not want to touch. Zooey's demand sounded absolute, but she had not given him a chance to answer. That might turn into a loophole, though Adrian knew better than to trust it.
For now, he had to move one step at a time.
"Adrian, are you coming to play with us?" Camilla called from the doorway, cheerful again.
He had been about to refuse. Then he saw the younger girl peeking from behind her.
"Fine," he said. "But you keep your promise, Milly. Home before dark."
Camilla had arrived for New Year's with a friend, Hayden Panettiere, another child actor and three years younger than her. Adrian had no idea what Camilla had been thinking. He had spent half the afternoon on the phone with Camilla's mother, Hayden's parents, and the girls themselves before allowing the visit to continue.
The rule was clear: they could stay for the day, staff would be around, and both girls would be home before dark.
Camilla had agreed without pushing for anything else, which made Adrian grateful enough to indulge the harmless requests.
No private games. No secrets. No more lines he had no business crossing.
When he dropped them off later, he told Camilla's mother, "Talk to her. Really talk to her. More rules will not fix this alone."
The woman promised she would. Adrian doubted much would change.
He could not solve every problem.
As the new year settled in and Lawson prepared the next wave of publicity, Adrian received a call from Minghella.
Cold Mountain needed reshoots.
Content Warning: This chapter includes consensual adult RPF sexual material, relationship overlap, and discussion of boundaries. No intoxication is used to initiate consent.
Adrian stared at Zooey.
For several seconds, he had no idea what response a sane person was supposed to make, even though the warmth beneath his hand was unmistakably real.
Zooey, meanwhile, looked almost offended that he had not reacted properly.
"What?" she said. "Isn't this what you wanted?"
"Yes. Obviously. I have wanted it in more than one dream." Adrian drew a breath. "But..."
Something was wrong. This was Zooey and not Zooey. She did not look like the clever, odd, elusive woman who usually slipped out of every trap. She looked like someone making a point she had not thought through.
"But what?" Her voice rose. "I am doing this, and you still have a but?"
That, perversely, reassured him. At least some of the old Zooey was still present.
"Things like this usually work better with a little atmosphere."
Zooey opened her mouth as if to say atmosphere was irrelevant. Then she seemed to consider it and frowned.
"Fine. What now?"
Adrian almost rolled his eyes. Tonight she seemed determined to reach some private finish line no matter how awkward the route.
"We talk first."
"Talk?"
"Yes. Revolutionary concept."
He got out, went to the nearby convenience store, and came back with bottled water and two terrible coffees. No alcohol. No shortcuts. If Zooey wanted to make a decision this out of character, he wanted her clear enough to own it.
They sat in the parked car while the coffee cooled.
"How do you feel now?" Adrian asked.
"Annoyed."
"That is familiar."
Zooey's mouth twitched despite herself.
"What happened tonight?" he asked more gently. "You were not acting like yourself. Especially after Emily showed up."
"You really want to know?"
"I am asking because I care."
Zooey looked at him, then laughed under her breath.
"Emily always does that."
"Does what?"
"Takes over a room. Takes over a conversation. Makes everyone think she is calm and reasonable and I am the strange little sister who needs explaining."
Adrian stayed quiet.
"Then you started explaining me to her," Zooey said.
"I was trying to say something good."
"I know. That was the annoying part."
He winced.
"I am sorry."
The apology landed. Zooey looked away and gripped the paper cup between both hands.
"I did not like seeing you with her."
"Because she is your sister?"
"Because she is Emily." Then, after a pause, "And because it was you."
The confession came out so flatly that Adrian needed a second to absorb it.
"Zooey..."
"Do not make a big speech." She turned toward him. "I am clear. I am not drunk. I am not confused. I am angry, but I know what I am doing."
"Then say it plainly."
She held his eyes.
"I want you to kiss me."
That was enough.
Adrian kissed her, slowly at first, giving her every chance to pull away. She did not. Her hands came up around his neck, and when he broke the kiss to check her face, she pulled him back with impatient certainty.
The car was cramped. The windows fogged. They were both adults, both aware this would make everything worse, and neither pretended otherwise.
Later, breathless and half-laughing at the ridiculousness of the space, Zooey rested her forehead against his shoulder.
"Do not look so proud of yourself," she muttered.
"I am trying very hard."
"Try harder."
A few days later, Sanders finally complained.
"Do you know how many times you have left me alone at a party? I had to tell Clooney you had an emergency. Please, Adrian, consider my dignity once in a while."
Adrian had texted Sanders and Clooney before leaving, but Sanders knew exactly what kind of "emergency" it had been.
He could not say that directly, so he complained like an old aunt instead.
"If necessary, I will apologize to George myself," Adrian said. "It was New Year's. Everyone had too many places to be."
The party had rolled into 2003. The holiday season made excuses easier.
Zooey mattered more.
Not only because of the night in the car, though Adrian would be lying if he said he was not pleased. Afterward, once she recovered her usual rhythm, Zooey had laid down terms.
"I can keep seeing you," she had said. "But every time we sleep together, I decide too. I am not moving in with you. And you are not allowed to keep sleeping with other women."
The first term was nonnegotiable and fair. Adrian accepted it immediately.
The second was easy. He was not living with anyone. Naomi and Katie had their own places, even if he paid for more than one roof in practice.
The third was impossible.
Naomi, Katie, Cate. He would not let go of them. Jordana and Camilla were their own messes for different reasons. Nicole had turned into an unanswered question he did not want to touch. Zooey's demand sounded absolute, but she had not given him a chance to answer. That might turn into a loophole, though Adrian knew better than to trust it.
For now, he had to move one step at a time.
"Adrian, are you coming to play with us?" Camilla called from the doorway, cheerful again.
He had been about to refuse. Then he saw the younger girl peeking from behind her.
"Fine," he said. "But you keep your promise, Milly. Home before dark."
Camilla had arrived for New Year's with a friend, Hayden Panettiere, another child actor and three years younger than her. Adrian had no idea what Camilla had been thinking. He had spent half the afternoon on the phone with Camilla's mother, Hayden's parents, and the girls themselves before allowing the visit to continue.
The rule was clear: they could stay for the day, staff would be around, and both girls would be home before dark.
Camilla had agreed without pushing for anything else, which made Adrian grateful enough to indulge the harmless requests.
No private games. No secrets. No more lines he had no business crossing.
When he dropped them off later, he told Camilla's mother, "Talk to her. Really talk to her. More rules will not fix this alone."
The woman promised she would. Adrian doubted much would change.
He could not solve every problem.
As the new year settled in and Lawson prepared the next wave of publicity, Adrian received a call from Minghella.
Cold Mountain needed reshoots.
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