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Action

David opened the door and held it while Eddie stepped out of the car. Murkoff Studios was much the same as other studios where Eddie had worked over his career. Despite his annoyance at Murkoff in general, the site of the lot always made him feel at ease. The vast black asphalt with lines of warehouses, the empty building facades, and all the spaces in between filled with props, trailers, and personnel.

Eddie made his way toward Studio H, knowing it would be one of the smallest. The movie wouldn't require gigantic sets, and much of the shooting would be done on location. The tiny warehouse would hold their world, for the short time they would film there.

The sharp crack of a car door made Eddie turn around, and he automatically wished he hadn't. Jeremy Blaire stood outside of his own chauffeured car. His black sunglasses, black suit, and black tie gave him an air of some secret service worker.

"Mornin' Ed," said Jeremy, walking up with a smirk.

"Can't imagine why you would need to be here today, it's not like it's the first day of shooting," said Eddie, pausing to let Jeremy catch up before continuing toward Studio H.

"You're right, it's not the first day of shooting, but it's the first day you're on set," said Jeremy, slipping his shades off and into his suit pocket. "I'm here to introduce you to the director."

"He's already met with my agent, Andrew relayed all the pertinent information," said Eddie, swatting his hand as though he could bat away Jeremy's annoying concerns.

"Yeah, he thought that was rather rude, that you didn't wanna meet him before shooting."

"You were the one requiring me to travel to London for the abysmal premier of that terrible movie," said Eddie, growling. "The press tour was one embarrassment after another. They've already pulled the movie in the States."

"I saw the interview where you called Merky a "seventy thousand dollar CGI aberration," said Jeremy, glancing at Eddie out of the side of his eye.

"I stand by it," said Eddie, pushing onward.

"Ed, we rely on merchandise sales in a movie like that, and, all faults of the movie aside, Merky was the only one in that show selling any fucking products. The London Times actually ran an article about children burning their Merky dolls in protest of your statements."

"They already bought then, what do you care if they burn them?" asked Eddie.

"Do me a favor? Pretend to be in a better mood when we meet the director?" asked Jeremy. They paused outside of the warehouse door while Jeremy slid his identification across the card reader, and the lock automatically clicked.

"I'll make sure to smile pretty, and express how grateful I am to be working with him," said Eddie, rolling his eyes as he walked through the door.

"He probably won't like that," said Jeremy, the door shutting behind him. "He, uh, isn't your biggest fan."

"Lovely,' said Eddie, groaning. "Let me guess, he's still mad about the Executioner killing off MetalNeck in Executioner V: The Executioning?"

"No, he's actually unimpressed with your acting, as a whole, thinks it's unprofessional that you didn't want to participate in any of the rehearsals or read-throughs, and he was hoping to meet and discuss character motivations before you showed up on set."

Eddie laughed and the sound echoed off the walls of the long, narrow corridor through the side of the warehouse. "That's adorable. This isn't his first movie--his concerns are frivolous."

"He seems to think actors that value their craft are interested in things like that," said Jeremy, smirking at Eddie's annoyed sneer.

"Like he's done so much directing, this is his first studio film, and the other two weren't even released nationwide. Why should his opinion matter?"