Overlord_Mordax, VickytheSnake

Summary:

The year is 1973, and Michael Townley is enrolled in the film studies program at the University of Los Santos, San Andreas. On a lousy day that keeps getting worse, he finds himself reconnecting with his old friend and partner in crime, Trevor Phillips, back from having been drafted into the Vietnam war. Everything new is old again as the life of a college student derails back into the life of a career criminal on the rise and a relationship tango between two confused and damaged young men starts all over.

The swinging 60s have given way to the sordid 70s. Old cycles and old flames. Vinewood glamor, and Vinewood sleaze. Crime and passion. Money, sex, drugs, violence, fame, conspiracy, revolution and love.

Notes:

The scene notes and movie language are affectionately dedicated to the spirit of Michael.

Chapter 1: Act One, Scene One: In which the mundane world is established and we meet our hero who is down on his luck.

Chapter Text

ACT ONE: 

In which the mundane world is established and we meet our hero who is down on his luck.

Opening Image: The hazy city of Los Santos

EXT. LOS SANTOS — DAY

The city shimmered like a dream under the heat of the hazy, slate grey sky. Cars clogged the freeway for miles. Beachgoers sizzled with sunburn. On the wilted green of a campus students marched with signs in hand, and tops off.

INT. UNIVERSITY OF LOS SANTOS, SAN ANDREAS — DAY

The heat and humidity were worse inside the windowless lecture hall. A single metal fan sat on the professor’s desk, turning its head back and forth slowly over the drowsy room, buzzing the stifling air with barely a breath, the white paper ribbons tied to it limp and sad.

The professor, a stocky man in his mid-50s was down to shirt-sleeves, rolled up and showing his thick, hairy arms as he paced across the room in front of the chalkboard, his tweed coat thrown over the chair.

The class was thin and at low ebb. Most students hadn’t bothered to show up for the lecture in the middle of the heat wave. Half of those who had appeared were now asleep at their desks, or slowly and drearily waving badly made paper fans. And while the fan didn’t do much to cool anyone, the white noise was just enough to make it difficult to determine exactly what the professor was talking about.

Was it establishing shots? It might have been establishing shots.

If it had been, the information had evaporated away like a drop of water on a sizzling blacktop.

With a groan, Michael shifted; crumpling up his own paper fan and letting it roll off his desk and to the floor. Nothing he did was gonna help the heat save for a dip in a nice, chilled pool.

He struggled to focus through bleary eyes on the teacher’s lecture, even as the offhand thought conjured images of Vinewood mansions and opulent poolsides. Poolsides the bastards who skipped class were probably lounging around without a care right about now.

“Tch…” He hissed through his teeth, running a hand through dark and sweaty hair as he whispered to himself. “…It’s enough to almost make a guy miss the north east… Almost. Damn heat.”

Finally, after what must have been an eternity, Professor Corby switched off the fan, and raised his voice. The lack of fan was probably more what got everyone’s attention.

“The first ten pages of your screenplays will be due on Tuesday,” he announced. “Make sure you have your formatting correct; check the samples if you’re unclear. For those of you who are nervous about your grades, I also have an interesting early opportunity for extra credit this evening.”

Some of the other students were already getting up to leave as the professor spoke.

Michael slowly peeled himself out of his chair, stretching stiffly in the oppressive heat.

He hadn’t gotten started on his screenplay yet, and Tuesday wasn’t that far away. With a slight frown, he loitered by his desk. It was possible he could use all the extra credit he could get, if this heat kept up.

The baking sun made it damn near impossible to get anything done.

The professor continued as most of the class filed out. “Some of you might have read that director Jaques Ferraro has recently put a close on the rather messy legal situation that the tabloids so enjoyed covering. To celebrate, he’s planned a special showing of his most celebrated film ‘Six Shot Tango’ with a little meet and greet this evening at the Oriental. Mr. Ferraro happens to be an old friend of mine, and has given me permission to extend an invitation to my students….”

Michael’s attention was caught, his eyes flitting to the Professor as he gathered his books from the table.

“I’ll go, Professor Corby.” He shoved his books into a bag, and headed to the front of the class. “You’re friends with THE Jaques Ferraro? Six Shot Tango was a real inspiration to me when I was a kid, Prof. It’s the kinda flick that inspired me to come to Vinewood to begin with.”

The professor smiled broadly at him, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. “Is that so? Yes, Jacques and I go way back. We met in France in fact, just after the war. Shall I put you on the guest list then, Mr…”

“Townley .” Michael hoisted his bag onto his shoulder with a wince at the slight heat of the friction against his already too-warm skin.

“Michael Townley. I’d love it if you did, Professor Corby.”

He shook his head. “Is he as much of an artist as they say he is? The man strikes me as a cinematic genius.”

“I certainly think that he has a certain vision that other directors lack,” Corby said, taking down Michael’s name on a notepad. “And of course like many geniuses he’s terribly misunderstood.”

‘Misunderstood’ here was probably code for all that philandering and cooking the books that Ferraro got into. Allegedly.

Allegedly was the key fucking word. If he wasn’t caught, then Michael couldn’t care less. Not when he had the chance to both meet a famous director and…maybe, if he was lucky, make an impression to get his foot in the door.

He nodded, “Most visionaries are, sir.”

“An astute man, I see. Well it seems most of your classmates are uninterested, sad to say,” he nodded to the emptying classroom. “So, show up a little early and I’ll introduce you personally, Mr. Townley. The event’s at seven.”

“You’ve got it, Prof.” Michael gave him a brief salute with two fingers, a grin plastered on his face. “I’ll see you there bright and early.”

EXT. ULSA COLLEGE GREEN — DAY

Bag in hand, Michael walked out of the stifling heat of the building out into the wilting grass of the common green area. A pair of puzzled looking police officers were standing off to the side of a knot of protesters who were blocking the flow of traffic, chanting, and holding signs.

They were also barefoot and topless, and mostly young women.

Michael’s eyes were drawn towards them as he passed, more for the spectacle than the content of the signs, at least.A smirk crossed his face. 

“At least something good came out of the heat.” he murmured under his breath. Even so, his eyes happened to catch the signs on the way to the sign holders.

Michael noticed a few signs as he passed by–

GOOD FOR THE GOOSE = GOOD FOR THE GANDER

TOPLESS FOR EQUAL RIGHTS

BREASTS ARE CHESTS

And one of them was being held by a familiar —chest— face. His girlfriend, Amanda, was standing at the front in nothing but a pair of denim shorts, leading the chant.

“Mandy?? Fuckin’ hell.” 

Michael dropped his bag to the grass, walking through the small crowd towards the protesters. 

“If nothin’ else they could use some damn work on the slogans,” he muttered.

Amanda waved when she saw him coming over. Michael noticed she was with her friend Pam, a stocky brunette with floppy hair and big square red plastic glasses, who wasn’t nearly as easy on the eyes toppless as Amanda was. Pam put her arm around Amanda’s shoulder as Michael came over.

Truthfully, it wasn’t a surprise to see either of them at something like this. Michael had met Mandy in his first semester at college while she was at a bra burning.

“Michael!” Amanda called. “Tell me you’re here to join the cause!”

“Mandy.” He gave her a half wave and a strained smile. He briefly glanced down at her chest, before glancing at Pam with a soft snort. “I was just passing by. Didn’t know you and your, uh, friends were gonna be doing anything like this today.”

He gestured around; “especially not, ya know, on the school green in a heat wave.”

“Better than a fully clothed rally in the heat, right?” Pam snorted.

“Totally!” Amanda nodded. “Also these things are SO hard to reschedule once you’ve xeroxed the posters! OH! That reminds me, you’re free tonight, right?”

“Uh huh. Nothin’ like being tits out and sweaty for women’s rights, am I right? Godspeed, ladies.” Michael stuck his hands in his pockets. He tried to hide the tenseness in his shoulders with a shrug.

Had he forgotten something? Or was she about to spring something new on him with the worst sense of timing he could imagine.

“….uh. No, Mandy….I got a school thing I gotta attend.” He braced himself. “Why?”

“Seriously?” she scoffed. “Michael, the abortion thing’s tonight!”

“The what.” Michael’s nose screwed up in confusion. And then suddenly a terrible thought struck him. “Fuck, Mandy, are you pregnant?”

Her mouth fell open. “Excuse me? Don’t you think I’d TELL you– not that I should have to!”

“Do you want me to slap him?” Pam asked.

Michael’s ire bubbled up inside him, his lips pressing tight against his teeth as he hissed “Pam, fuck off. Even try and I’ll lay you flat on your ass. Got it?”

He crossed his arms “I’d fucking hope you’d tell me. Look, babe , did you tell me about whatever ‘the abortion thing’ is supposed ta be?”

Amanda crossed her arms too, sticking her lip out in a pout. “The abortion rally! The big one! You said you’d try to clear your schedule for it weeks ago.”:

“Babe, you fucking expect me to remember every fuckin’ rally you sign us up for?” Michael raised his arms in exasperation “I mean, fuckin’ DAMN , I got school and shit to think about too!”

he pinched the bridge of his nose “what time. What time’s it start? I’ll make it, alright? but I gotta at least…show up to this thing. It’s my big chance to make some real connections in this sweltering disaster of a city.”

Pam scoffed, but said nothing; Amanda tightened her crossed arms.

“And your ‘big chance’ is more important than your girlfriend, huh?” she sniffed. “It’s seven o’clock.”

Michael tensed, pinching the bridge of his nose all the harder as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Of course it fucking is.”

He hissed the breath out and met Amanda’s eyes. “It ain’t ‘more important’ than you, Mandy. You know that. But Vinewood ain’t cheap. And if I don’t make it in this city, it’s right back to hicksville. It’s a meeting with Jaques Ferraro. A personal meeting. Do you have any idea how BIG this could be for us?”

“Who?” Amanda demanded.

“Jaques Ferraro, the pedophile?” Pam’s eyebrows raised.

“That’s unfounded. Last I heard all his charges were fuckin’ dropped as false.” Michael held his hands up. “Mandy, he’s a big name director, made some real classics like Six Shot Tango? Big, Big, Big name”

Aside, Pam murmured. “Settled out of court.” She coughed into her hand.

“Six Shot Tango?” Amanda cocked her head. “Isn’t that the one you told me was ‘impossibly boring’?”

“Well don’t tell him that!” Michael grumbled. “Yeah, it was a piece of shit, but it’s a piece of shit everyone pretends is gold. And with his recommendation I might be able to actually land a job in Vinewood. And then I can provide for ya, Mandy, and we can go to as many fucking abortions as you want.”

He paused before pointing his tented hands at her together as he clarified. “Rallies. Abortion rallies.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Townley!” Amanda sniffed. She poked him in the chest. “You go lick Vinewood boots if you want, Pam and I are going to lick something else!”

Pam smirked. “The patriarchy, obviously.”

Michael flushed, and shot Pam a dirty look. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what Pam here’s hoping to lick. Mandy, look. Don’t get so mad about this.”

“I don’t have the privilege to not get mad about it!” she snapped. “Just go do your thing, Michael. Pam and I have empowerment to work for.”

She picked up her sign again, stepping back into line.

“Mandy, come on.” Michael griped as she walked away. “Great. Awesome.”

He turned and grabbed his bag off the ground “now she’s gonna be pissed about this all night. Probably all damn week.” He looked over his shoulder at her one last time, before he turned and marched away with a huff of breath. 

“Damn it.”