Chapter Text
“Premiere Tonight : the Biggest movie of 1927!”
Tina checks that her dress’s folds are not too rumpled by her coat, and that her feather hat is shiny and looking fabulous before turning towards the microphone.
“Live from the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood, this is Tina Cohen-Chang, reporting from the event of the season. What a night, ladies and gentlemen, what. A. Night!”
She looks over the different socialites making their arrival on the red carpet.
Not the main event yet.
Okay she can go on.
“Everyone is breathlessly awaiting for the arrival of the two stars of the evening--”, she starts, when a clamor from the crowd cuts her short.
A limo parks in front of the theater, and a dashing young man in a perfectly tailored suit--with sequins on the hem--comes out of the car, followed by an elegant older woman.
“And look who just arrived : none other than famous Zip Boy of the screen Hunter Clarington and his latest conquest, Miss June Holloway!”
The couple walks by her, the young actor smiling and waving at the crowd.
“Hunter has been so unhappy in his relationships, let’s hope that this is the one!” Tina continues, reporting on the event. “And now here comes--”
She pauses, puzzled by the relative silence of the crowd.
She recognizes the newcomer, of course--it’s her job, and Tina Cohen-Chang is the best at what she does.
“Here comes Sebastian Smythe, Blaine Anderson’s best friend. He’s the one who plays those delicious melodies that set the mood for the two lovebirds!” she says, beaming at Sebastian as he approaches nonchalantly, kissing the back of her hand. “Sebastian, what can you tell us about this new movie?”
Sebastian opens his mouth, but before he can say even one word, the crowd starts yelling and Tina nearly sends him flying into the theater’s door.
“Oh, oh, folks, this is it,” she says excitedly, clutching the microphone and missing Sebastian mimicking her behind her back, “it’s the producer of “The Dashing Warbler” herself, Holly Holliday, who has given you folks all of those pictures we love so much, and her wife, former silverscreen star April Rhodes-Holliday and with them--,” Tina gasps as the crowd’s clamor increases, --”yes! It’s those romantic lovers of the screen, Blaine Anderson and Sugar Motta!”
Out of the limousine, Blaine Anderson steps into the spotlight, waving at the fans with a genuine smile and a few comments for those who paid a tribute to one of his particular roles. Sugar Motta follows behind him closely, her smile blindening in the lights that surround the theater.
They walk across the carpet until they reach Tina, both actors hugging her warmly.
“Blaine, Sugar,” she says, a little breathless, “you both look lovely!”
Sugar bows graciously, sending kisses towards the crowd. Blaine humbly bows his head with the shy smile that has given him his fame.
The crowd goes wild, and Sebastian exchanges a smile with Blaine over Tina’s head.
“Looking at you two, it’s no wonder that your names are a household all around the world,” Tina comments, eyeing the two actors with a critical, if admirative, gaze. “Bacon and eggs, Motta and Anderson!”
She laughs delicately into the microphone, and Blaine hides the irony in his smile as best as he can while Sugar beams at her.
“Blaine, can you tell me, confidentially,” Tina asks, playfully turning the microphone away, “are these rumors true that wedding bells are soon to ring for you and Sugar?”
Blaine’s eyes widen and Sebastian bites on his lower lip while Sugar hooks her arms with Blaine’s.
“Well, Sugar and I have no statement to make, Tina,” Blaine replies good-naturedly, subtly dislodging Sugar’s arms from his. “We are just good friends.”
The smile on Tina’s face tells him how much she doesn’t believe him, but professional as ever, she lets it slide.
For now.
That much Blaine knows.
“You two have come a long way together,” Tina presses, one hand stopping Blaine from going inside the theater. “Won’t you tell us how it all happened?”
Blaine gives her a charming smile, and looks sideways at Sugar who returns the smile.
“Sugar and I did make multiple pictures together,” he starts, keeping the topic on a more professional ground, but Tina tuts, tapping her gloved hand on Blaine’s shoulder in a playful reprimand.
“No, no, Blaine--your rise to stardom is such an inspiration, for so many young people, please,” she insists, gesturing at the microphone for Blaine to take over.
Blaine takes a deep breath, and exchanges a look with Sebastian who merely smirks at him, one eyebrow raised, and Blaine knows exactly what the gesture means.
Go on, Tiger, tell us the story of how exactly we rose to fame …
“Well, Tina, I’ve had one motto which I’ve always lived by,” he says, squaring his shoulders. “Dignity, always dignity.”
---
Mr. Anderson and Mr. Smythe would love to say that introducing their younger boys didn’t lead to them goofing off together and always putting on skits, at the most inconvenient time too, but that would be lying, and they’re gentlemen.
And gentlemen do not lie, even when they decide to become … entertainers.
For example, Georges Anderson could do without running into his little Blaine tap dancing in front of “his” bar to the rhythm of the music played by young Sebastian on an harmonica.
Again.
---
Blaine chuckles. “Ah, our parents used to make such a fuss over us, precocious as we both were,” he says, eyes up as if lost in reminiscence. “And when I was real good, I was allowed to accompany Mum and Dad to the theater--only the very best: Shakespeare, Molière, Shaw …”
---
“Seb, we’re going to get caught!”
Blaine winces as his voice cracks, but he has more pressing matters to handle right now.
As in, Sebastian trying to get him in trouble and his conscience being on strike, apparently.
Sebastian looks over his shoulder and grins at him. “Come on,” he whispers urgently, “the show is about to start!”
Blaine moves forward, eyes darting up to the cashier counter over their heads, and gulps.
He doesn’t want to miss the Alexanders act, they’re such a good act …
And Russell is so darn handsome …
Sebastian smiles and keeps on leading the way, and it looks like they’re going to make it--
“Going somewhere, boys?”
---
“This, naturally, stimulated my love for performing, and as the years went by, Sebastian and I focused all of our energy on honing our skills.”
---
“B flat, dammit Blainey boy.”
Sebastian hisses just as Blaine arranges his bow on the strings of his violin, matching Sebastian’s as they tap dance across the stage in perfect unison.
This would be a first class act if they were not wearing the costumes their “manager” insisted on.
Fuck Ryerson to the seventh ring of Hell.
Clowns, really?
But Blaine and Sebastian are nothing if ambitious, and if they have to tap dance and play the fiddle while dressed as clowns to make it in the business, then that’s what they’ll do .
---
“At all times, Tina, the motto remained the same,” Blaine says, tipping his head towards Tina and avoiding Sebastian’s knowing smirk. “Dignity, always dignity.”
---
“We finally made it,” Blaine whispers, clutching Sebastian’s shoulder.
Sebastian sighs and wipes at his brow. “Yeah we made it,” he repeats. “We made it to California. Now what?”
Blaine points at the studio’s entrance with a crooked smile. “Now we get our way in.”
---
“Offers from the studios came pouring in when we settled in town, and after weighing our options, we decided to favor Monumental Picture.”
---
“ That’s it Sugar, you hate him. You despise him. You resist him,” Arthur Abrams shouts in his megaphone while Sugar pushes away an actor with a trademark evil moustache. “Now, faint. You guys keep the music!”
Sugar puts her hand over his forehead and somehow faints, while Sebastian, Blaine and another musician play a tense melody.
“Quite a dish, isn’t she,” Blaine whispers, his eyes on Sugar.
Sebastian snorts. “You couldn’t afford it.”
“Okay,” Arthur says, turning towards the ‘door’ of the set. “Dave, now you come in!”
A tall man dressed as a cowboy comes in.
“Keep on grinding! Play the music!” Artie shouts. “That’s it! Dave, hit him in the stomach!”
The cowboy delivers a powerful punch in the villain’s stomach, and the actor crashes into the bar.
Artie throws his megaphone to the floor. “No, no, no!” he screams. “You’re supposed to go over the bar! Let’s try it again, Nick. Nick? Nick!”
A couple of assistants approach the fallen actor, and quickly pick him up, shaking their heads towards Artie.
“Great! That’s just great!” Artie whines. “We’ve already lost too many stuntmen in this picture, where will I find a new one …”
Blaine and Sebastian exchange a look, and Blaine throws the fiddle in Sebastian’s hands. “Mr. Abrams, I think I could do that bit for you.”
Artie looks at him through his fingers. “You’re a musician.”
Sebastian looks over the piano. “Moot point.”
Artie considers it and shrugs. “What do I have to lose--what’s your name?”
“Blaine Anderson, sir.”
“Let’s see what you got, Anderson.”
---
“My part in Artie--in Mr. Abrams’ movies were increasingly urbane, sophisticated and suave.”
---
Stunt to stunt, Blaine quickly proves himself indispensable for Artie’s vision.
“Blaine, you go.”
Going through a burning building on a motorcycle? No problem.
“Blaine, you go.”
Jumping in the “sea” from a cliff? No problem.
---
“And of course,” Blaine says, glancing at his partner who is still beaming and waving at the crowd, “all through that first picture, Sugar was an inspiration, welcoming and warm. A true leading lady, really.”
---
“You have to be more careful, Tiger,” Sebastian says with a frown, wrapping a bandage around Blaine’s singed hand.
“Yeah, yeah,” Blaine says, eyes following Sugar as she walks around in her silk robe, filing her nails and making her bob of dark hair bounce around her face.
Sebastian follows his gaze and rolls his eyes. “You should go and get her,” he whispers in Blaine’s ear. “You just played the hero, after all.”
“You think so?”
“Suuuure.”
Blaine smiles at his friend and straightens up before going over to him.
“Gosh, Miss Motta, it’s been wonderful meeting you,” Blaine says charmingly, holding up his hand to Sugar.
Who looks at it like she can’t believe Blaine even has the audacity of showing it to her.
“I’m Blaine Anderson, the stuntman?” Blaine insists, not deterred by the less than warm welcome he’s getting. “It’s been a real pleasure, and an honor, working with you.”
Sugar gives him a small smile full of contempt before turning her back to him.
Blaine looks embarrassed back to Sebastian, who looks this close to come and teach Sugar a lesson or two, when Artie approaches the pair with a bright smile.
“Ah, Blaine,” he says, clapping Blaine on the back. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Blaine does his best to put a charming smile back on his face, but his eyes widen when he takes in who is behind Artie.
“Let me introduce you to the producer of the picture, Miss Holly Holiday.”
Blaine takes his hat off his head, and offers his hand to the producer. “It’s--glad to meet you, ma’am.”
Holly takes his hand and shakes it before Blaine can attempt to kiss the back of it. “How do you do, Blaine,” she says jovially.
Sebastian slowly joins them, curious about the whole affair.
“I just saw some of the rushes for the picture,” Holly continues, not letting go of Blaine’s hand, “and when I asked Artie about this team of stuntmen he has, he told me it was all you!”
Blaine can feel his cheeks heating up, and he looks down humbly. “I--I guess it was me all over.”
“Well son, I think you’ve got something,” Holly says, finally letting him go to light up a cigar. “Come over to my office after lunch, we’ll discuss a contract.”
Sebastian and Blaine mouth “contract” together, before Blaine beams at the producer. “A contract! Thank you, Ms. Holliday!”
As the producer leaves with the director, Blaine turns to Sebastian. “Seb! A contract!”
The pair hugs it out, interrupted by Sugar clearing his throat behind him.
When they part, Sugar is batting her eyelashes at Blaine with a predatory, if seductive, smile.
“Doing anything tonight, Miss Motta?” Blaine asks with a crooked smile.
Sugar slowly shakes her head.
“Too bad,” Blaine says with an apologetic smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m busy. Come on Seb.”
---
“Sugar and I have had the same wonderful relationship ever since through the twelve pictures we’ve made together,” Blaine says, biting on the words he actually wants to say about his partner on screen. “And in the course of time,” he adds with a more genuine smile, “the public has taken a liking to me and made me a star, though I do my best to keep my head on my shoulders and my feet on solid ground.”
The crowd cheers on cue, and Blaine waves at them.
---
Blaine blinks, fighting to fully awake, but the 5th bottle of champagne may have been the one that tipped him over into a drunken coma.
“Seb?” he calls, wincing at the roughness of his voice and at the sudden onslaught of pain coming from inside his head.
Since when does he have a personal Woody Woodpecker?!
A mumble comes from under the bearskin Blaine bought for his living room, and Sebastian’s face finally peeks from under the bear’s head. “Whaaaa.”
Blaine smiles, in spite of his hangover and the state of his lavish living room.
Empty bottles, broken glasses and jars of lubricant left opened everywhere he looked.
A regular post-party morning in the Anderson mansion, then.
---
“And most importantly,” Blaine says, “I continue living up to my motto. Dignity, always dignity.” Tina beams at him and Sebastian quietly claps at his performance. “That’s pretty much it, Tina,” Blaine concludes, looking down demurely once again.
“Thank you, Blaine,” Tina says with a wide smile. “And I’m sure Sugar and you will continue making movie history tonight in your greatest picture to date, “The Dashing Warbler”!”
Blaine, Sebastian and Sugar turn one more time towards the crowd before rushing inside the theater.
--------
Blaine takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes closed as he listens to the spectators.
Most are laughing, some are cooing--overall, they seem to like.
Now he can let it out.
“Blaine, you ready?” Holly calls, smiling at her and gesturing at the curtains that is dropping in front of the screen.
“As ever, my dear Holly,” he replies charmingly, offering his arm to Sugar who arranges her dress before taking it.
The moment they step on the stage from the wings, the applause redoubles in vigor and they both bow and smile until it quiets down a little.
Sugar leans towards the microphone, but Blaine is faster.
God knows he has to.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” he says, voice strong as he smiles. Sugar makes another attempt but Blaine discreetly puts himself between the device and his partner. “We are pretty darn thrilled at your response to the “Dashing Warbler”.” He chuckles, echoed by the crowd in the theater, and goes on before Sugar can get another idea. “It was fun making it, and I--we hope that you had fun watching it tonight.”
Sugar tries pushing him. “I--,” she manages to say before Blaine graciously elbows her out of the way.
“We work hard making these pictures,” Blaine says, putting a warning hand on the small of Sugar’ back, “believe me, but if we bring any joy into the lives of our spectators, it was worth it.”
Once again, the crowd applauds and cheers and Blaine tries conveying to Sugar that she needs to stop, but his partner doesn’t quite get it.
“I would--,” Sugar manages to get, but before it can get too complicated to cover, Blaine pinches her side.
“We screen actors aren’t much good at speaking in public, I’m afraid,” he says with a humble smile. “So we had better just act our thanks!”
Blaine makes a big gesture of bowing and nudges Sugar to do the same. They both send kisses to the crowd, and as Sugar opens her mouth one more time, Blaine wastes no time and pulls her backstage.
Sebastian is talking with someone from the publicity department, and raises his glass to Blaine and Sugar, but Blaine doesn’t have the time to smile back.
“F’heavens’ sake,” Sugar screeches and Blaine wonders if he could use the curtain ropes to stuff in his ears, “what’s the idea?” Sugar sighs, huffs and puffs, and Sebastian comes closer with a smirk. “Can’t a girl get in a word in edgewise? They’re my public too!”
Both Blaine and Sebastian wince at the way Sugar’s voice climbs to higher and not all too pleasant notes.
Blaine sighs. “Sugar, we’ve been over this,” he says patiently. “The publicity department--Thad, here--decided it would be better if I made all the speeches for the team.”
Thad steps forwards with a placating look. “Sugar, you’re a beautiful woman, and audience thinks you have a voice to match.We have to keep our stars from looking ridiculous at any cost.”
“Ain’t got that much money,” Sebastian chimes in from behind them, and Blaine is torn between laughing along and scolding his friend.
“Why?” Sugar screeches again. “What’s wrong with the way I talk? What’sa big idea? You think me dumb or somethin’?”
The three men exchange a look and look away before they can betray themselves.
Blaine puts his arm around Sugar’s shoulders. “No, not at all. It’s just that I’ve had so much more experience, and--”
Sugar shrugs him away and turns to Thad. “Next time, write me out a speech! I could memoralize it!”
Sebastian snorts. “Sure,” he drawls. “Why don’t you get back out there and recite the Gettysburg Address?”
Sugar turns to him and pushes him away. “What do you know? You--you--you piano player !”
Sebastian raises one eyebrow at her in challenge, and Sugar turns to Blaine, putting his hands on his chest. “Blaine, how can you let him talk like that to me, your fiancé!”
“My fian--” Blaine picks up Sugar’s wrists and removes her hands from his chest with a long suffering look. “Sugar, you’ve been reading those fan magazines again! There is nothing between us. There has never been anything between us. Just air, and sometimes not enough of it!”
Sugar smiles, half-patronizing, half-charming, and pats his cheek. “Oh, Blainey, you don’t mean that. Come on, darlin’, we’ll be late to Miss Holiday’s party!”
Thad reaches for Sugar’s coat and leans towards Blaine. “You’re taking separate cars--trying to break out the mob.”
“See you there!” Sugar calls over her shoulder, a bounce in her steps as she walks away.
Blaine’s jaw reaches for the floor, and Sebastian doesn’t even try to contain his hilarity.
“What is the matter with that girl?” Blaine says incredulously, hand lifted to rack through his hair until he stops himself. “Can’t she take a gentle hint?”
“I don’t think a violent one would help,” Sebastian says, hands in his pocket as he gets closer. “Plus, she said it herself, she’s irrisistible !”
Blaine groans, leaning against a wall and looking up to the beams. “What would I give to get rid of her,” he sighs before shaking his head and reaching for his coat. “But what can I do, right? The publicity! The fans!”
Sebastian claps his back. “The price of fame, Blaine,” he says, in his best imitation of Blaine’s father. “You’ve got the glory, and you have to deal with the little … um, heartaches that go with it.”
Stepping in front of Blaine, Sebastian takes his best melodramatic pose, if only to see that crooked smile finally gracing his best friend’s lips. “Now, look at me,” he says, a hand clutching his chest. “I’ve got no glory, no fame, no mansion, no--”
He pauses, and Blaine snorts. “Hold on, what have I got?”
“I don’t know, Seb, what have you got?”
“I gotta get out of here,” Sebastian says decisively, taking long strides to get out of the theater.
Blaine laughs and quickens his own steps to catch up with him. “Now hold on, my friend,” he says, reaching to put his hand on Sebastian’s nape, “you know you could have it all too. All you need is a little drive.”
Sebastian gives him a small smile before turning it into a smirk. “Good thing our ride is here then,” he says, nodding towards the car waiting for them.
Blaine rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “Let’s go, you dope.”