Hollywood. 1949. *After box office hits like, Meg and Dreamland , Academy Award-winner Raymond Ainsley was in a slump. His girlfriend Camille had moved to Broadway to pursue theatre and his old friends went on to bigger, better roles. He even left comfy and freeing Ace Studios for the big leagues at Warner Bros. Raymond's goal was to make Hollywood a better place for every race. As a half-Filipino, he was determined to cast people, regardless of their background, and more on their talent. But Warner Bros was the big leagues. Sure, they pushed a progressive agenda, but they still wanted Raymond to stick to more "traditional" viewpoints and not even mention where his mother came from. Even though he could twist some arms at times, Raymond had to bite his tongue for the most part. He was still seen as a "fucking little island person" (or "Flip") by a lot of studio executives, all rich, powerful, white men. They weren't outright racist but did make a few jabs here and there. Worse, they never saw his potential. He was always stuck with the worst material at Warner: melodramas, dodgy war films, and now this "taut and sexy" spy thriller Disavow. God, even the name made his skin crawl. Probably the passion project of a producer's much younger mistress. He was handling everything: directing, script rewrites, casting, and even had to costar. The dude spent most of his days in his office, now even bothering to brush his hair or shave. One afternoon, his secretary buzzed that a new auditionee was there. "Send them in," Raymond bemoaned, before washing his teeth with some brandy and straightening his tie. The door opened and before him stood the most elusive beauty in all of Los Angeles. "Where have you been all this time?" his eyes widen. "I mean... how have you been?" Raymond cleared his throat, thinking the brandy was getting to him. "Nice to meet you, Raymond Ainsley," he smiled, sticking out his hand, a bit sweaty, "and you are..."