Fable Weaver
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DOS Ch-199
🕑 Added 2025-03-26 21:26:59 +0000 UTCI looked over at the bustling set, where everyone seemed too busy doing something—everyone but me.
“Got your script for the day?”
I turned to my left and saw my mother standing beside me, watching me curiously. This was the first time in many years we had been on set together where she wasn’t just visiting. She looked completely at ease here, the confident grin on her face making that clear.
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ve memorized it too. I’m a little nervous about it, but still, I have a feeling this one will go well.”
She nodded once before saying, “Glad to hear that. Although, I still think you shouldn’t have bought the show. It’s too much of a hassle.”
I nodded. “Maybe it is. Think of it as practice for when we produce [Game of Thrones].”
Initially, the BBC was producing [The Night Of] and later brought HBO into the mix for U.S. distribution. But even after HBO joined, the BBC had only increased my salary from $50,000 per episode to $100,000. I’m not a greedy asshole—I’d gladly do a good show for that amount if they were giving me a share of the backend profits. But they completely shut that idea down, stating that, as a public broadcaster, they had internal rules to follow.
I understood their dilemma. As a public-sector company, all actor payments made by the BBC are part of the public record. Sooner or later, people will find out how much I was paid, and it will create unnecessary drama. However, if the payment was made to a production company for broadcasting rights, it wouldn’t matter much if the amount was higher than a standard salary.
So, in the end, I took matters into my own hands and bought the rights from Peter Moffat for $2 million. The BBC hadn’t signed a deal with him yet since they wanted to confirm my involvement first, which I never did before I bought it.
Now, Mum and I would be producing the show under my production company, Phoenix, while HBO and the BBC would pay us directly for the broadcasting rights.
This also had an unintended side effect—I now owned all rights to the show, including international broadcasting, streaming, DVD sales, and remakes.
Every film I had produced so far included one crucial clause in the distribution deal: I retained 100% of the streaming rights, and distributors wouldn’t get a cut. Since the streaming industry wasn’t as developed yet, none of the distributors had a problem signing those rights away as long as I didn’t feature it on a free website like YouTube.
“Are you really okay, Troy?” Mum’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked.
“You know why.” She gave me a deadpan stare. “You haven’t talked about it much, but I know you must be hurting after your breakup.”
I sighed audibly. “I had forgotten all about her. But you just had to remind me.”
“What you’re doing isn’t healthy,” Mum said, her concern evident. “You used to tell me everything about your life. And now, you’ve shut me out completely. You didn’t tell me when your fake relationship became real or when you actually broke up. It’s like I don’t even know what’s going on in my son’s life anymore.”
“It’s… complicated,” I said.
“Can you at least tell me why you two broke up?” Mum asked. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t like you dating Rihanna, but at least I know you were happy with her.”
I shook my head. “Let’s just say a high-profile relationship is terrible. It didn’t help that we hyped it up too much.”
Mum crossed her arms. “I don’t want to say ‘I told you so,’ but I was against the whole fake dating thing from the start. Why does anyone need to know who you’re with? It’s nobody’s business but yours.”
“I learned my lesson, Mum. Won’t ever forget it,” I promised. “No more fake dating or media hype. At all.”
“Glad to hear that.” Mum smiled before ruffling my hair. “So, I know today’s scene might be a little uncomfortable for you if I’m here. Do you want me to go home?”
I shrugged. “That’s entirely up to you. Would it make me a bit uncomfortable? Hell yes. But I can manage. It’s my job. I’m not actually having sex.”
While the revised script had cut out nudity for my character, the upcoming sex scene was too important to remove entirely. Neither my co-star nor I would be fully naked, and the camera would mostly remain above the waist, so it wouldn’t be as uncomfortable as it could have been.
“I’ll go home,” Mum said after a moment. “It would definitely be awkward.”
Just then, a male crew member ran up to us. “The shot is ready. We can begin whenever you’re ready, Troy.”
“Let’s begin then,” I said, giving Mum a quick nod as she got up to leave the set.
I walked over to my co-star for the scene, Ruth Negga. She was a beautiful Irish actress and incredibly talented. While I hadn’t been involved in the audition process, Mum had, and she’d chosen Ruth despite her being a little older than me. It didn’t matter much—we were both adults, and the scene was meant to be just a one-night stand after which Ruth’s character would be killed.
“Hi!” I greeted her casually before sitting opposite her at the table where the scene was to be shot.
“Hey!” She beamed at me and extended a hand. “Nice to see you again.”
Two days ago, the entire cast had met for a table read of the first three episodes. Since those episodes were being shot together, all my scenes were scheduled first so I could take a break to bulk up for the remaining three.
“Right back at you.” I shook Ruth’s hand. “I know this could get a little uncomfortable, so let me know if you need to stop or if, at any point, I make you uncomfortable. That’s the most important thing.”
Ruth inclined her head gratefully. “Thank you, Troy. Don’t worry, though. I’ll let you know if that happens. But the same goes for you.”
I nodded as we continued discussing the exact boundaries of what was acceptable in the scene. Ruth was very open-minded and didn’t mind small improvisations—like placing a hand on her waist or back, or deepening the kiss to make it feel more authentic. I gave her the same freedom, letting her do whatever felt natural to make the scene realistic.
If we were shooting this show a decade later, we wouldn’t even need to have this conversation—there would be intimacy coordinators on set. Unfortunately, that wasn’t a concept yet, so hiring one wasn’t an option.
In the end, I just wanted to make sure Ruth was comfortable. As long as your scene partner is at ease and the director is professional, things should go smoothly.
“Troy, Ruth,” a male voice called as he approached us. “You two ready?”
“I am, Stephen,” I said, smiling at my longtime collaborator, Stephen Daldry, whom I had hired to direct the series.
“Me too,” Ruth confirmed.
“Alright then, let’s begin,” Daldry said as we all took our positions.
I had chosen Daldry for one reason—his shots were beautifully composed. Whether it was [Billy Elliot], [The Hours], or [Echoes of You], everything he filmed had a cinematic quality that brought it to life. That was the biggest difference between TV and film directors. TV directors often preferred close-ups, focusing on facial emotions rather than action, whereas film directors favored wider, more dynamic shots.
Over time, as television’s production values increased, that would change. The U.S. was already ahead, with shows like [The Sopranos], [The Wire], and [Six Feet Under] featuring stunning wide shots. But in the UK, TV still leaned heavily on close-ups—partly due to budget constraints. American shows had bigger audiences, and therefore, bigger revenues to fund high-end cinematography.
“Action!”
As soon as I heard the command, I slipped into the headspace of my character—Ben Coulter.
“This is your place?” I asked, looking around in amazement.
The apartment was something to behold. Designed meticulously, it was filled with antiques—including a mounted deer head—that gave it a refined, upscale feel. My character wasn’t wealthy, so he was visibly impressed by the lavish decor.
I sat down at the table as Ruth’s character sliced limes for the shots she was preparing.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Yeah?” She smiled, raising an eyebrow.
“What’s your name?”
“I didn’t tell you?” she teased, sliding a shot glass toward me.
I picked it up, leaned forward, and met her gaze. “Don’t you want to know mine?”
“No.” She shook her head before tossing back her shot in one swift motion.
Nervously, I followed her lead, downing mine just as quickly.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked, steering the conversation forward.
“No. Do you?”
She leaned in, brushing my arm lightly with her fingers. “Would that turn you on?”
We shared a quiet chuckle before she picked up the same knife she had been using to cut the limes.
“Now watch this,” she said as she laid her other palm flat on the table.
Then, without hesitation, she raised the knife and drove it forcefully between her fingers, digging deep into the table.
I flinched, startled by her boldness.
“Your turn,” she said, handing me the knife.
“No.” I shook my head.
“Come on,” she coaxed, her tone playful yet insistent.
After a few more seconds of cajoling, I finally relented. Taking the knife from her, I mimicked her actions, stabbing it forcefully between my index and middle fingers.
“Woo!” Ruth cheered, laughing as she reached into her pocket. When her hand emerged, she was holding a small packet of white powder. I knew it was just a vitamin supplement, but I still made sure to show visible hesitation as she tapped some onto the back of her hand and held it out to me.
“This is the party you missed,” she whispered, her breath warm against my ear.
I hesitated, my expression uncertain. Then, after a moment of indecision, I leaned down and snorted the powder off her hand. I had to make it clear that my character was reluctant—young and inexperienced—but still gave in to the moment.
There had been concerns from Dick Parsons about the drug use in the show and how it might affect my image. But I convinced him it wouldn’t matter in the long run—this wasn’t glorification. The story would show the consequences of drug use, not just the high. Just as we did in [Echoes of You].
With a grin, Ruth followed suit, snorting a line of the powder herself. Then she laid her hand flat on the table, fingers spread, and motioned for me to do the same trick with the knife.
“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head.
“Yes.” She leaned in, her gaze flickering to my lips before she whispered, “Yes.”
Dazed by the intensity of the moment, I picked up the fake knife and brought it down hard.
Both of us froze, eyes wide in shock. The blade had sunk deep into Ruth’s hand.
The makeup team had stepped in just before this shot, applying deep red paint to her palm, while the real knife had been swapped for a prop with a flat tip—one designed to make it look like it could be "pulled out."
Without thinking, I yanked it free and grabbed her hand, staring at the supposed wound as blood poured from the cut.
“Oh, shit!”
“Hey,” Ruth whispered, her voice low and sultry as she cupped my cheek with her uninjured hand.
Our breaths mingled as we locked eyes, the air between us charged with electricity. We were both lost in it, so it wasn’t long before the space between us disappeared entirely.
Our lips crashed together in a kiss—hungry, heated, and anything but innocent. This wasn’t some soft, hesitant embrace. It was full of urgency, tongues clashing as my hands found her waist, pulling her closer. She tugged me along, our movements frantic as we stumbled toward the stairs.
By the time we reached the bedroom, our clothes were half gone. Ruth stood before me in nothing but a red bra and panties, while I was stripped down to my black boxer briefs.
I reached for my asthma inhaler, taking a quick puff before returning to her.
Then I was on top of her, pressing kisses down her neck as her nails raked over my back, sending shivers through me. I found her lips again, but she took control this time, flipping us so that she straddled me.
A small cushion had been placed between us—a precaution to avoid any unexpected surprises. I was incredibly grateful for that.
The cameraman slowly stepped back as Ruth moved on top of me. Daldry had explained beforehand that they would gradually fade the imagery to make it look artistic rather than explicit.
“Cut!” Daldry’s voice rang through the room. “Let me review the footage real quick.”
As soon as we heard that, Ruth climbed off me and sat beside me on the bed.
“That was intense, wasn’t it?” she said, catching her breath.
I nodded, keeping my mouth shut.
Her gaze dropped downward, and before I could react, her eyes widened. A split second later, she burst into laughter.
“Piss off,” I muttered, holding the cushion tightly against me. “It’s a natural bodily reaction.”
“Of course it is,” she said between giggles. “I’m flattered I could get that reaction out of you.”
I blamed my teenage hormones. A month without getting laid, combined with a long day of filming a scene like that—it was inevitable.
“Relax,” Ruth reassured me, still grinning. “We’re both adults here.”
Before I could stop her, she reached over and yanked the cushion away.
“Holy shit! Is that thing real?” she blurted out, eyes wide.
I wrestled the cushion back, hoping no one had seen. Luckily, most of the crew had stepped away to give us privacy between takes, given our state of undress.
“You’re an asshole,” I grumbled, though without any real bite. After spending most of the day half-naked together, she’d grown bold.
“Seriously, though—” she shook her head, amused. “That’s… impressive. Does that thing even fit?”
“My ex-girlfriend never had a problem with it,” I replied dryly.
Hard to believe, maybe, but despite my fame, I’d only ever been with one girl. We were each other’s firsts, so she had no frame of reference to compare. And from what I’d seen in porn, I didn't think I was that big.
“Oh, believe me,” Ruth said with absolute certainty. “You are. Man, if I weren’t in a relationship, I might’ve taken you for a test drive—if you know what I mean.” She nudged me playfully.
I didn’t respond. Even if she were single, I wouldn’t have taken her up on that offer. With every passing day, my knowledge of the future grew sharper, and one thing I remembered crystal clear was the #MeToo movement.
I wasn’t about to put myself in a situation that could be twisted later. No sleeping with co-stars while I was also a producer. At least, not until filming was completely wrapped.
“That was perfect, guys,” Daldry called from across the room. “You can get dressed, we’re done for the day.”
By now, I’d calmed down enough to stand without drawing attention. I threw my clothes on in record time and turned to Ruth, who had already slipped into a robe.
“Hey,” I said. “I’ll send that contract to your agent tomorrow.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is that really necessary?”
“For me? Yeah, it is.”
The contract was a simple declaration stating that nothing inappropriate had happened between us during filming. Just a precaution—so I wouldn’t get sued or dragged through the mud over a scene. Emotions could run high in moments like these, and perception wasn’t always the same for both parties. What might have been a casual touch for me, could easily have made her uncomfortable. While I made sure to ask her between every two takes if she was comfortable, you can never know what someone may allege years later.
I’d made Anna Kendrick and Scarlett Johansson sign similar agreements after filming far tamer scenes. No exceptions.
After a pause, Ruth sighed. “Okay.”
I nodded once and headed toward my trailer to change into my regular clothes. Just as I reached the steps, my assistant, Benji, walked towards me, looking nervous, with a laptop in his hands.
“Troy, I think you should see this.”
“What is it?” I asked nonchalantly, barely slowing down. "Can't it wait until I have changed?"
Then he said the words that made me freeze mid-step.
“It’s Rihanna. She... gave an interview. About you.”
Comments
Noname739
I bet she’ll say something nasty and then Troy will throw a ‚Grenade’ at her
David Karlsson
Shows like friends and other TV series, different midbudget movies with sequels and comedies are the best basics for his streaming platform I think
TheLazyWarrior
@David, Any examples?
TheLazyWarrior
Around three weeks. I'll add the date.
David Karlsson
How long after their breakup is this? It's hard to tell without dates. Just knew it was new year
David Karlsson
Maybe he could go around buying up cheap streaming IPs while theyre still considered garbage
Jarod lane
Lol ya that would’ve been too much
Jarod lane
Oh no what is Rihanna going to say
Vilas Boas
Fable, you better update tomorrow!!! You can’t leave us hanging like that!
BaldRhaegar
Can wait to hear what Rihanna say
James Harrold
I wouldn't think he would own any streaming right for HP other then his 2% to 10% he owns of the whole movies.
TheLazyWarrior
No streaming rights to HP. But he will get the same % of revenue as he has been getting for home video sales.
AbbyR
Gosh you always leave us wanting more. I'm really hoping that whatever she says doesn't end up damaging his reputation. It's good to see he's thinking ahead regarding me too and streaming rights. Does he own any streaming rights regarding HP?
Rafael
Really? Yes, That's too dramatic even for me.
TheLazyWarrior
Almost. I needed her to say something for the next part of the story to make sense.
James Harrold
Glad you changed that then, is the Rihanna drama arc nearly done please.
TheLazyWarrior
This is nothing when compared to what I had planned originally. Rihanna was supposed to get pregnant and then go for an abortion without telling Troy. Then Troy would get mad that she didn't even consult him, thus breakup. Then I thought it was way too dramatic, even for me.
Sarah Chu
Oof. I bet she's hitting his reputation right in the nads. Damn, why did their breakup have to be such a cluster fuck lmao
James Harrold
"fingers crossed" Rihanna keeps her interview the same as how Troy responded on Jonathan Ross.
