Chapter Text
Sebastian Stan, you need to stop goddamn fidgeting and sit the Hell down.
This had to be the 10th time I walked back from the little boys’ room within the span of 30 minutes.
Or the 100th. I didn’t exactly count. I had to go a couple of times but the rest of it was mainly to fix my hair. And oh, maybe my nose while I was at it.
You know, to see if it was going to fall off or not due to the imploding suspense (was doing a really lousy job at holding that in obviously) while I waited for the casting call people to call me into that damn room with the floor-to-ceiling glass everything, everywhere.... and give the game-changer.
I was never this nervous in my entire life. I swear to God, never. I felt a little scared too, and for a damn good reason.
It suddenly occurred to me - only right then, seriously Jesus? - I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle the outcome from this one. Should it be a positive one, or a negative one…
I mean, ’So, what’s next?’ never did occupy my mind the whole time I was here. Great. Just great!
Honest to God, I didn’t prepare myself for anything because well, I just went for it, the screen test for Captain America’s character for the Marvel movie production.
That was two weeks ago. I was pretty damn sure I did a great job at it, too.
Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m a humble guy but I did give that audition a go at oh, about a 150% or so.
Heart on my sleeve, that kind of feel if you like. Aim for the skies and hopefully, land on the skies. It was a whole new feeling for me. Living in New York for some time taught me that having too high of expectations can really beat up a guy. But for this particular audition, boy, my expectation level for myself was out of my own damn mind.
Anyway.
I was walking my dog earlier the same morning when the call came in for me to come down to the location of the casting call. Long story short, I dropped Turtle off at my friend’s cat cafe (I think Turtle relates more to cats than dogs, it’s almost like identity disorder for my Doberman. Yes. That dog which has the social image of a fierce guard dog, likes to hang out with cats. I can’t even...?) and literally flew towards a potential life-changing opportunity.
So anyway, all these ‘I should have’s continued crashing into my already internally somersaulting mind until the pretty receptionist lady called for me and snapped me out of it.
They’d like to see you now, she said, smiling that ‘wish you all the best’ smile people usually give you when they wish you all the best..
I thanked her, confident that my hair and nose were still intact and headed for the important giant fish tank room. I took my seat across three serious-looking people - 2 men, 1 woman - who had their noses buried so deep into the portfolios they were sorting on the table that they didn’t even look up to see if I was already there or not.
Me? Man, I was ready to pass out. Cold. This audition was for MARVEL, for Christ’s sake.
Stay calm Sebastian, keep cool. You got this.
“Ah!”
One of them finally found my portfolio among the dunes, valleys, mountains, of portfolios.
And he went, still not looking up at me, “Sebastian Stan, Hi. How are you?”
Jesus Christ takes the wheel~!
“Hi everyone. I guess I’m...Dandy fine.”
The lady in the middle was the first to look up from obsessing over the pages of my portfolio to give me an amused smile. Then they glanced at each other, chuckled a little bit. I must have said something really funny. Or stupid. Same difference, Jesus.
“Let’s make it short okay? We ran over your screen test for Captain Steve Roger’s character. Multiple times, in fact...”
Then it came.
“...But we’re sorry Sebastian. You did a really great job but, well, Captain Rogers is not for you.”
*Mic drop*
Then we were just staring at each other. The silence wedged into the atmosphere was deafening, terrible.
I found myself then staring into space. Perhaps I was letting the rejection sink into my head before I heard my spirits and felt my heart cracking a little in the process.
Okay, I remember saying to myself. So...now what? What’s next?
Because honest to God, I was still reeling from the blow.
Internally, I ran the screen test over and over again. Was I in over my own head? Did I over-act? I didn’t remember Broadway-ing Steve Rogers...Did I sing? Oh God was I that nervous that I sang? I didn’t sing, right?
“...We DO have a character for you, if you are keen to play…”
Their voices broke the awkward silence with scattered sentences. I couldn’t make out the words and what they were saying to me because I literally spaced out a little while being self-conversational.
“... the part of James Buchanon Barnes. Sebastian?”
The whole room suddenly came back into focus. A little too fast, too bright, too sharp. Ouch, my head.
“Sorry.” I managed to recollect myself quickly to register the English flying at me. “What was that, again?”
“Perhaps you would be interested to play the part of the character ‘Bucky’?”
“Bucky?”
I didn’t mean to sound rude or anything like that at all...
“Yes. This character, ‘ James Buchanon Barnes’. We believe you fit him rather well, Sebastian. How’s about it?”
...but I did just snap out of a temporary head-trippy coma state like, a few seconds ago before they ninja-ed me with this.
“Well, yeah sure. Just...Who the hell’s Bucky?”
I’m pretty sure you all know the story of ‘The Wizard of Oz’.
Dorothy had a pair of pretty ruby red shoes and her magic words were: “There’s no place like home”. Clicked her heels together three times and poof! She was right where she wanted to be, right?
Well in my case, my magic words were, “Who the Hell is Bucky?”
And poof! I was where I wanted to be - although not as what I auditioned for in the first place.
Oh, gotta tell you the ground-breaking confirmation only came after few agonizing months of waiting (God, my excitement wilted) - but hey, I did end up in the first Marvel movie production. Yay!
There’s always a hidden blessing in everything good or bad that happens to you. That’s my mom, my hero.
I have someone else to thank too. His name is Gregg Masterson. I’ll talk about him soon. Owe him a lifetime supply of cheese sticks.
Back to topic.
“How are you eating so much and still stay so lean?”
“Uh,” I paused, looking at the piece of pizza I was holding in my hand and then at Chris, who didn’t look thrilled at whatever he was not thrilled at as he continued to march over, appearing into the light from the shadows of the trailers he passed by.
I took a bite of my food before giving him a nonchalant shrug, smiling a little.
“I workout.”
I’m a really nice guy 24/7 but sometimes I’m just #sorrynotsorry
“Bullshit.”
Chris Evans shot me a deadly look and then groaned a little as he dropped a plate full of white meat on the table I was having my dinner in. It smelled like ew and I could bet on my own life it tasted like ew. With a capital E. Couldn’t blame the lethal amount of ‘meh’ on his face at all.
“Evans, why do you have to bring that over here…You’re damaging the air quality.”
“Stand down, Soldier.”
“Fine. You look away now, Captain.”
It must have felt painful for him to watch me eat pizza right then. In my mind I was picturing him looking at me and seeing this all happen in slow motion. I swear the stringy melty triple cheese ribbons were tampering with his sanity right then, scratching into him like nails on a chalkboard.
He was Captain America but he couldn’t eat pizza for the love of God. I mean, pizza is as American as Americans can get, you know what I mean?
“Hey, care to transfer some of your God blessed genes over to me? Help a brother out, will ya?”
This was coming from the Chris Evans - and we all know he was born to play Captain Steve Rogers : The First Avenger.
It was like the Gods in the Marvel Comic Universe had a vision of the future and they predicted the birth of the finest male specimen to exactly fit that profile should the comics be adapted into movies one day - and yet this joker wanted me to give him my good genes.
I laughed, humored. Chris likes to talk crazy sometimes. Wait, make that most of the time. He’s interesting like that. It makes me believe I’m less annoying.
Oh believe me, Chris Evans was definitely not all that I expected him to be the first time we met, either.
Ah, it’s so nice to be back in this town.
Generally quiet with nice people. I watched a couple of good English soccer teams play here too, was quite a fan of the English Premier League the whole time I was in this country.
It was hard not to become one, really. ‘Football’ was always the religion in England.
This book I had been reading throughout the entire flight from LA, I wanted to finish the chapter before the costume people were going to have me for my first scene - but my brain was having a tough time thawing out.
I began to think about how goddamn cold Manchester was at this time of the year. I mean, I lived and went to school in London before but man, Manchester could get especially goddamn cold. Even after I had the heater running the second I settled into my new trailer at the location of the shoot, my ass was officially frozen into the mattress I was chilling in.
Cold weather. Chilling in. Get it?
Moving on.
“Hey! Anyone home?”
My thoughts broke to the boom of the voice that was coming from the outside my temporary housing.
“Yeah,” I replied, sitting up and closing my book. “Come on in!”
My brains were frozen but I wasn’t imagining things right then : The man tore open the entire door before he stepped in. The metal around us creaked a little at his weight. Soon I had a giant in my trailer and he was looking for a space to stand after he closed the door behind him. The glass pane on it didn’t shatter to pieces.
Yeah, I can really imagine things up if I want to.
“Thanks. Can you believe the weather out here? Damn, Jesus! Fucking freezing!”
This superbly jacked giant flashed a megawatt smile at me as he dusted himself a little and settled down into the tiny chair by the kitchen counter - his superbly jacked arms crossing over his superbly jacked chest. He was tall, he was ridiculously handsome, his features were sharp and he just ...He was just superbly jacked to Hell, damn.
Chris Evans also cursed silly after saying the name of God.
Sold!
Well, okay I’ll be honest. At first I was a little teeny tiny bit sore because I ‘lost’ the Steve Rogers character to him but you know, life’s gotta go on and I can’t be a baby about things like this.
And besides, gotta hand it to the casting team for getting this guy to be Steve Rogers. He is LITERALLY Captain America, like why in the bloody blue Hell did the people even bother holding auditions-
Anyway.
“Never been here before?” I smiled, friendly.
“Once or twice. I just don’t remember Manchester to be like, Alaska.” He was all good-natured about it.
“Sebastian right?” He then stuck out a hand for a shake. “Chris Evans. You can call me either.”
“Evans. Seb.”
“Seb. Hi, it’s good to finally meet you.”
No arm of mine broke from the superbly jacked handshake.
“Hey. So...Is there any chance that you can like, “flame on!” and do a better job than this heater?”
I’m sure you got that reference. I just couldn’t stop myself, come on.
“Oh God!”
He cracked up, landing a slap my shoulder. Hard.
Christ, my kidneys scrambled a little upon impact.
“Do NOT start that with me, man. Unfortunately, no. And yes, your heater sucks so damn bad, Sebastian.”
We laughed some more. He then said he wanted to talk a little before we suit up for the shoot.
According to him, since we were going to play best friends in this movie, we should get acquainted and hang out a bit - and become friends in real life, if that was possible.
Wow. Was interesting how he was so forward, so on about it, in the first meeting. I was sure he read the entire script already. We both knew ‘Bucky‘ was going to die in this one and chances of running into each other again post-filming would be rather slim to none. Right?
But it was really nice of him to want to strike up a friendship with puny ol’ me anyway.
So we chatted. I quickly saw a lot of heart in Evans, he made me feel a lot less jittery about bringing my own individuality into the circle of people I was going to be working with in my sets and throughout the filming process in the next few months. This got me thinking a lot about shaping Bucky’s character next to Steve’s, vice versa, etc, actor talk here and there…
We continued talking, our conversation shifting to plays we had seen on Broadway and before long, topics digressed to Star Trek, astronomy and space stations.
How the hell that happened, I had no idea.
It felt we had all the time in the world to talk when in reality, we were expected to be in make-up in less than an hour.
Hell, I think if Mother Time hadn’t alerted the make-up people, we would have continued to talk until spring or something.
Imagine that: 2 grown men, setting themselves on fire over CATS the musical to the finding of the newest planet from NASA.
His cellphone went off. Shortly after, mine.
“Call of duty time, Seb. Captain America and Sergeant James Barnes.”
Boy, I was goddamn excited to start already. Let’s go, let’s go!
We exchanged numbers just in case we need to talk to each other. About whatever, he said. His trailer was just a few doors down. So likeable, this guy!
“See ya in make-up, Bucky!” Chris casually went, slipping his iPhone back into his front pocket as he began to take his leave from my humble creaky-under-his-weight ol’ trailer.
“That’s how it is now, huh? Catcha later….Steve.”
“Oh yes it is. Oh hey, you gotta know something!”
He stopped, halfway out of the door, to turn around and then grin at me.
“What?”
“The casting people was telling me that I got myself a real hot co-star for this movie. I didn’t really believe them, they’re actually punks once you get to know them more...”
Uhm, yeah. By the way, Chris Evans can get a little long-winded sometimes. He also likes to say ‘know what I mean’ a lot too. You need to know this because if you ever get into a conversation with him and he uses this line a lot, you don’t have to literally answer him with “yeah I know” or whatever because he isn’t really asking a question for you to answer. It can get quite taxing.
Call this tip of the day.
I was nodding to everything, agreeing that yeah, I met Hayley Atwell on the sets in Universal Studios quite a number of times prior. She was going to play Steve Roger’s love interest, Agent Peggy Carter.
Quite a fine specimen if you ask me, I’m definitely a 1000% down with that one.
“What I’m saying is...” Chris finally caught himself. And about damn time, too!
The air coming into my trailer from the open door he was standing midway out of was threatening to permanently put my heater out of its functionality and I couldn’t have that, no way, not in the Manchester weather then.
“...The casting people got it right this time around, though.”
“Oh, only NOW?” I laughed, shaking my head in amusement in this lack of trust.
It’s Hayley. Christ, Evans. Not rocket science at all, I thought.
“Yeah,” His grin stretched wider.
He briefly eyeballed me in this manner which I couldn’t read at all.
“I mean, just look at you. Totally worth freezing my ass off to walk to your trailer, pal!”
“Evans, seriously! Don’t do that.”
Across me, Chris was eyeing my food while fighting a battle with his inner gluten-loving demons. I smacked a protective hand over the pizza box nearby.
He heaved a sigh of defeat before prodding his fork into his Ew food again. Shifting the meat around like it was going to transform into something edible for humankind.
“Just ignore me and eat your silly pizza. I just like it that it’s less unhealthy stuff here. There’s too many pastries and cakes and sugar over at those tables. It’s driving me insane.”
“How do you know I’m not going to pull out a box full of donuts and turn on you too?” I sniggered. I really am a nice guy, believe me.
Taunting Chris Evans when he was on a superhero diet was just a hobby.
“No you won’t. You practically avoid eating the sweets at the buffet lines, all the time,” Chris replied, as a matter-of-factly. “And you don’t eat fried foods. The chicken, not the fish. I notice that too.”
Boy, I was impressed. I mean, we had only been friends for less than 3 months during the filming for this movie but I guess meeting and working together with the same set of faces every minute of almost every day could really up people’s observation skills.
I must have looked so obviously impressed, he found a good time to gloat a little. I let him go on.
“Eventually I figured you’re one of those high carb, high fat, less or no processed sugar kind of person-”
He was seriously giving me a 411 on my healthier eating preference while I was eating a damn pizza. He’s great with timing like that, really.
“...and that’s how you are and will stay as lean, Sexy Sea Bass!”
God. Sexy Sea Bass. Don’t even ask me, please.
Don’t ask Anthony too. Or anyone else. Just...don’t ask. I thought I left ‘Sea Bass’ in college long ago but apparently nope.
Now that I’m reminded of it, I need to sit some people down to talk about this matter. My movie actor image is on the line here!
Anyway.
“I’m curious,” I said, ignoring the nickname jibe. “What else?”
“What else...what?”
“What else!” I was goddamn excited for some reason, I actually forgot about eating. “Pop quiz-”
“Dude I’m trying to eat in peace. Why are you giving me a pop quiz-”
“What’s my favorite fruit?” Boy, I was already going out of my mind a little.
I was dead sure he was going to be like “you’re crazy” but instead, he glanced down at his Ew food for a second. Suddenly so deep in thought.
Christ, I swear this guy can be so unpredictable at times.
“Berries. Blue .And you freeze them. In a ziplock bag,” Chris snorted, triumphant. “That was too easy, Seb. I don’t really notice you eating any other fruits.”
I was shocked to death. He was right, going all booya! to my face.
“Wait. How many times have you seen me eat frozen blueberries?”
“Seb, I don’t know if you notice this about yourself...but you’re always snacking on them when we were in the previous location.”
"That's not 'always'."
Yas! So the billion dollar question was : How would he know I (really, really, really) liked blueberries just from his observation skills during that single point of time?
Apparently, Chris thought I was being overly dramatic or something high like that. Heck, he actually didn't get it.
We stationed for about a month in London, we didn’t really have much scenes shot together and I had only a week’s supply or so of that fruit.
So it was either upgraded superhero observation skills or Chris Evans was nosey.
“You’d only eat them whenever we have make-up and costume. I wanted to ask for some but I don’t really like blueberries. Too sour. Granted that they’re good antioxidants so it makes sense because you’re generally a healthy-eater…"
Mr Health and Fitness can really talk, swear to God. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
“Hey, if you wanna believe it-”
Well I was sure as Hell escalating things right then. Dangerously excited, me.
“Evans, we hardly even go for drinks together after work! I just don't believe how you can notice little things like that.”
“Whoa, stop right there,” Chris’ eyebrows came together to the middle of his forehead, defensive mode activated.
“Unlike the rest of you, I need to eat this all the damn time, gain 20 kilos of pure muscle mass and cut it. It’s not like I didn’t want to join you fellas. Oh, since we're in the topic of company, no one - not even you, Seb - ever wants keep me company in my morning runs. Why is that?”
“Running is a lonely activity, Evans.”
Hell, who enjoys running for fun anyway?
No, wait. Don’t answer that.
“Anyway, you know I can’t join you guys for your buffet nights and pub crawls.”
Okay, fine. Not his fault. He just really rather not do that because he had to keep his shape and strength for the role. If you knew how Evans trained - he took on everything, to do his own stunts, Jesus he was mad - and the amount of dedication he put into bringing Captain Steve Rogers out of the comics into reality, you’d like (and respect) him a lot too.
Okay. You’d pity him a lot at first but he’s got a massive, massive, massive amount of love for what he does - and that ends up making you like him, like, a Hell lot.
In a way, I guess a blessing in getting the role of ‘Bucky’, Steve Rogers’ non-enhanced childhood best friend for the first movie production of the Captain America is : I got to eat anything I wanted without having to hit the gym like 10 hours every day just to make the super soldier suit look super soldier good.
It was a small blessing, but I was glad as Hell I did not need to bulk up back then. So anyway.
“Honestly. How did you notice that?”
“What’s the big deal, man? It’s just fucking berries!”
“Are you spying on me? It’s just too specific.”
There I was, being honest and open and touched and weepy and all, and Chris just looked like he wanted to pick me up and throw me into my trailer for twittering all up his ass about goddamn frozen berries.
“Spy on you. Hah!” he deadpanned. “I get bored, I observe people...”
Oh, like that’s a normal activity every other person does and I just happened to totally miss out on it in life or something.
“...So I notice a lot of things. Simple. Not quantum physics, Seb. Are you going to finish your food?”
Fine. I let the matter rest right then only because I’m a nice guy 24/7 like that. Also, I didn’t want to be moulded into my drinking bottle right then. A hungry man can be a violent man, I wasn’t going to have that kind of thing for my first MARVEL-big movie debut.
“Yes. But I can’t risk the First Avenger gaining an extra percentage of body fat. Can’t let you have any of my babies. I’m sorry Evans.”
No, I wasn’t. Totally #sorrynotsorry and he knew that.
“I think I’ve successfully brainwashed myself into thinking that this crap.” Chris scowled, changing the topic and pointing to the blob of Ew on his plate.
“...Actually tastes amazingly good without the condiments.”
“Really Evans? I have hot sauce right here...”
“You should try eating boiled chicken and fish every other day, Sea Bass. Captain America diet. To get this body!”
And he goddamn stood up to flex his everything. Jesus, when Chris Evans gets animated, his Godly image just burns in Hell.
“Nuh uh, Cap” I laughed, picking up my pizza and toasting it in the air between us.
“Hail Hydra.”
“Traitor,” Evans huffed, annoyed as he sat back down. He stabbed his fork into the tacky-looking chicken chunks (I’d like to believe it was chicken) before putting one in his mouth.
I watched him take a few more bites of his Ew. He fell uncharacteristically quiet all of a sudden. Poking at his food. Putting it into his mouth. Chewing. Swallowing. Chewing again all that boiled dry, tasteless, tacky, probably plastic-tasting Ew food. Since the start of things, putting so much dedication into his character’s diet and training and….
...Gah, Jesus.
“Hey, Evans.”
“Hm?” He looked up to see me pushing the stupid box of triple threat melty cheese pizza towards him.
Because urgggh, God. I couldn’t do it anymore! “You can have the rest.”
He was stunned. “All of that? That’s like half!”
“Don’t give me numbers, I don’t care. You’re killing me here.”
Call me Sebastian Stan : the Triple Threat Melty Cheesey Pizza Messiah, if you like.
“Seb, I have a whole night of stunts to do tomorrow! This isn’t going to make that any easier.”
But, but, but!
He didn’t say no.
Hell, I knew - he knew damn well too - that he would give in eventually. But I couldn’t just ignore the genuine worry he had right then, showing on his face, eyebrows tightly knitted and all.
No one’s ever hesitated so damn much to eat goddamn pizza, I swear to Jesus Christ.
I thought about the frozen blueberries for a second.
Guuuuuuuh, fine!
I pushed the pizza box to right under his perfect nose. The savory smell was demolishing his fortress faster now, yet he still hesi-fricking-tated.
“What time are you getting up tomorrow, Evans?”
“I guess late. I plan to sleep in until….12. Why?”
“Get up at 5.”
“Huh. Why?”
“I’ll go running with you tomorrow morning. Then we’ll hit the weights. Burn this off before your evening grind.”
Yup. I lost my marbles, I really did.
Chris Evans looked like someone just tased him right in his handsome face. It took a while for him to get to where I was heading with all this.
“You mean that, Sea Bass?”
Picture that. My hand on the damn pizza box, his eyes burning into mine, locking me down in a stare. The two of us, frozen in time for a good few seconds as he mentally calculated his calories and I, I just wanted to end my own misery from watching him eat in his misery.
“It’s a date, pal.” That wasn’t me talking. Was it? It was.
Captain Steve Rogers finally gave in to his carb demons and reached into the box. Gleeful as Hell, all of a sudden.
“10 miles?” He smiled while pulling a slice out, celebrating the unscheduled cheat in his superhero diet in his own sneaky, naughty way.
10 miles was just goddamn insane. “5.”
Chris Evans just swallowed a pizza slice whole and he was going for the next one.
“...and legs day.”
No chance. No mercy. Just sanction and extract.
“Nobody does legs day after a goddamn run, Evans.”
No, wait. Never mind.
“Okay, arms and chest day. A 5 mile run is not going to do justice for this kind of cheat meal.”
I truly didn’t like the idea of blown up pecs. I liked the lean, flexible me. “Okay, I change my mind. You stop eating right now.”
And he turned it on. His goddamn sad face, sad eyes, sad frown. His goddamn shoulders, going into a slouch.
Jesus, I swear. This joker can really annoy me to death once he gets the upper hand.
“5 miles tomorrow morning and then gym,” I muttered, relenting. Regret was starting to punch in somewhere but it never made it to change my mind in the end.
Chris Evans, he looked like he was over the entire universe with the next slice of pizza he was stuffing into his mouth. Jesus, he didn’t even take the time to savor, or chew or anything!
“Deal!”
Ah, Hell.
It only occurred to me that this guy was already mentally prepping himself to go all 1000% beast mode and me, well my foresight was me lying in bed for a good 2 days just to recover movement in my fingers.
“Great,” Chris grinned, oblivious of my regret. “Love you, Seb!”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
till next time...