Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙 ✦ Over a chair.
The reason was absurd, but Hollywood had built entire disasters on less.
On a film set, everyone lived inside a small, overheated version of the same vanity fair.
People compared themselves, tested rank, and watched one another too closely.
In this business, almost everyone was sensitive where reputation was concerned.
When Evan reached the prop truck, Ross and Mia were still glaring at each other.
The two temporary assistants had retreated a safe distance away.
No one was talking.
So the fight was already over.
Wonderful.
The first day of shooting had been a stack of accidents, and now the crew had managed to add an internal conflict on top of it.
Evan wanted to smash something.
“Mia.
Ross.” He stopped beside the truck.
“I don’t care what this was about.
It does not happen again.
If this kind of stupid nonsense affects the work, I will let the contracts do the talking.” He slapped the side of the prop truck hard enough to make both of them look at him.
Ross, to his credit, still had some professional sense.
He spoke first.
“Okay, Evan.
I promise it won’t affect the work, and there won’t be another argument.
I’m sorry.” He stood and apologized properly.
Evan nodded once, making it clear he had heard him, and Ross opened the truck door and climbed inside.
Mia saw Ross give in first and shrugged.
Then she apologized too.
Evan could tolerate friction on a set.
What he could not tolerate was people arguing in front of everyone during work hours.
Production was already difficult enough.
They did not need to make it harder for themselves.
At two in the afternoon, the crew slowly started moving again.
They were still shooting the path sequence.
Evan had adjusted the schedule and pushed all of that coverage to the front.
Even with the stumbles, the afternoon went better than the morning.
Everyone was starting to adjust, trying to fit themselves into the slow, grinding rhythm of an actual feature shoot.
“Naomi, same situation,” Evan said.
“Watch your eyes.
Try to carry the shock there.” The scenes were being shot out of order, so Naomi had to shift between different emotional states from one setup to another.
In truth, it was not the hardest acting challenge in the world.
He was strict with his instructions, but if she landed close enough, he let it pass.
Tree was a face-driven role in this version.
The camera needed her, and the role did not require the kind of performance an actor could spend a year mining for inner truth.
“Like this?” Naomi asked.
Her pupils seemed to widen.
Her eyes opened just a little more, and something in her whole presence changed.
The blankness on her face could not quite suppress the fear underneath it.
It was not written across her features.
It lived behind them.
“Okay.
Hold that,” Evan said.
“I’m softening the focus and moving in for a close-up on your eyes.” “Scene one, shot five,” came the slate call.
The clapper snapped.
Evan settled behind the camera.
“Action.” He pushed the camera slowly around Naomi in a half circle, then settled on her face and held on her eyes for several seconds.
“Cut.
That’s good.
Lily, touch up Naomi’s makeup.
Next setup.” Naomi had finally found a usable rhythm, and Evan wanted to capture as much of this sequence as possible while she had it.
If the edit needed options later, he wanted options.
Existing locations were already a gift.
On a big production, a shot that lasted only a few seconds might still require months of set construction.
That was why preproduction mattered.
The more thoroughly the work was prepared, the smoother the shoot became.
“We’re losing light,” Evan said later.
“One more setup.
Naomi, at this point Tree has already been killed several times.
She’s using elimination to find the truth, and she’s obviously weaker now.
Give me that exhausted version you’ve been practicing.” When filming began again, everyone watched Naomi and silently hoped they could finish soon.
The day had not left anyone with a pleasant feeling about the work.
Naomi walked down the path slowly, visibly drained.
As Tree passed the people she had seen before, she began helping them.
After a full day of punishment, Naomi had finally settled into the part.
Unfortunately, this was the last setup of the day.
“That’s a wrap for today.
Luke, log the exposed rolls and seal the cans for lab pickup.
I want the dailies back as soon as possible.” At Evan’s order, everyone began packing up and loading the vehicles.
He waited until the others had driven out of the school before getting into his own car and heading back to the hotel.
Naomi was waiting in the passenger seat.
They had agreed to have dinner together.
“So?” he asked as he drove.
“First day, all your scenes.
Exhausted yet?” She looked worn out, but her eyes were bright.
“No.
Evan, this is the feeling.
I’m tired, sure, but being at the center of the camera is incredible.
Everyone working around me, everyone watching me.
When I was doing background work, this was what I envied most.” Evan glanced at her and had nothing to say.
Everyone else had been wrung dry, and she looked energized.
He parked at the hotel.
Neither of them went back to their rooms.
They headed straight for the restaurant.
The whole crew seemed to be starving.
Everyone was there, eating quietly.
Naomi pulled him toward a corner table, then went off with a plate to get food.
Evan watched her come back with two loaded plates, still lit up with a strange, almost unnatural excitement.
He decided it was worth saying a little more.
“Naomi, want some advice?” She looked at him over her food and gestured for him to go on.
“Your acting still has room to grow.
Today was better.
You adjusted well.
After this movie, if you can, find a serious acting class and go back to training.
A beautiful face belongs in every movie, but there are too many women competing on that alone.
You need more than that.” He said it plainly, then began eating without waiting to see whether she would take the advice.
People who eventually succeeded were usually self-driven.
They rarely listened just because someone told them to.
Naomi froze for a moment.
Since coming to Los Angeles, she had been so focused on surviving and finding work that she had barely thought about training again.
Suddenly, Evan himself looked like the example.
Study hard.
Raise your value.
Find the opportunity.
Seize it.
Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing?
He wanted his goal.
He wanted success.
He was focused to the point of obsession.
“I will,” she said.
“Evan, do you have any other advice for me?” He looked at her.
Since she had asked, he gave her the rare honest answer.
“Know what you want.
Once you know that, you’ll know what to aim for and how to get there.
You’ll find the method, and you’ll find the motivation.
Think about the Walk of Fame.
Think about Beverly Hills.
“Focus on that.
You’ll endure almost anything if you truly want where you’re going.
But if you want to reach it, you have to concentrate, and you have to keep learning.” He set down his plate and stood.
Then he walked over to Steve, the lighting technician.
“Steve, tomorrow I’m using more low-angle shots with mixed, upward lighting.
I want a stronger first-person feeling, more immediacy.
Adjust the lighting.
Not as bright as today.” “Okay.
No problem.” Steve was already thinking through the adjustment.
Evan left him to it and went back to his room.
He still had work to finish.
The first day had been rough enough that the schedule had to change.
The next morning, the convoy entered the school early.
From the first setup onward, filming was still uneven.
Students gathered to watch, throwing off the actors and the crew, and even Evan felt the noise and movement around them gnawing at his focus.
Camera, lighting, performance, props.
Problems appeared one after another.
Irritation spread like an infection.
By the end of the day, they had barely made up what they had missed the day before.
His temper began to rise.
Every time someone made a mistake, heat surged in his chest.
Every time, he forced it back down.
“Cut.
That’s it.
Back to the hotel.” The moment he said it, he lost the fight with himself.
He threw his director’s notebook hard onto the ground.
Luke picked it up, put it back in his hand, and patted his shoulder.
“Evan, you need to relax.
Go to the bar tonight.
Have a drink.
It might help.” Evan nodded to show he understood.
Only after Luke saw him calm down did he turn back to help the others pack props and equipment.
Night had already fallen.
November in the Los Angeles area was starting to cool, so Evan changed into clean clothes, put on a jacket, and walked into the bar beside the hotel.
There were not many people inside.
He took a stool at the far end of the counter, pulled money from his pocket, and handed it to the bartender.
“Hey, man.
Beer.” He drank quietly while watching the bartender pour drinks and wipe glasses.
Even there, his mind kept circling the shoot.
“Sitting alone again?” Naomi asked.
“Still thinking about work?” She sat beside him with a glass of whiskey and took a long swallow.
She was a little drunk already, or at least she looked that way.
Maybe the pressure of the shoot had pushed her toward an escape too.
“Nothing serious.
Just irritated,” Evan said.
“Didn’t you say you were protecting your figure and staying away from hard liquor?” “I want to get drunk once.
It might help me sleep faster.” Naomi set down the glass, then suddenly climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Her breath brushed his ear.
“Hey, Nami.
You’ve had enough.
I’ll take you back to your room.” Evan held her so she would not slip.
“Then take me back,” she murmured.
“Do you want to play something rough, Evan?
I know what you like.” He shook his head helplessly and helped her back to her room.
Once inside, he dropped her onto the bed, removed her heels, pulled the blanket over her, and finally breathed out.
“Get some rest.
We work tomorrow.
I’m going back.” He turned toward the door.
He had planned to drink properly tonight, and this woman had ruined all of it.
Leaving her alone in the bar was not an option either.
If a stranger had carried her off and his lead actress vanished from the production tomorrow, he really might lose his mind.
Behind him, the blanket shifted.
“You don’t want to stay?” Naomi called.
“You don’t want to play?
Come on, Evan.
Transform.
Catwoman likes a rough Batman.” He turned.
The haze had vanished from her eyes.
Her balance was steady.
“I’m not drunk, Evan,” she said.
“I wanted an excuse to get you upstairs.
I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Evan searched her face and saw no blur, no confusion, no pressure he had put there.
“Then say it clearly,” he said.
“I want you to stay.” Piece by piece, she stripped away everything, then lowered herself onto all fours and crawled toward him.
The desire she had been teasing all night finally caught.
Evan stopped trying to reason with it.
He walked into the bathroom and watched the little wildcat crawl after him.
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CREATORS’ THOUGHTS TheBacklot Thank you for reading.
I hope this chapter drew you further into the story.
Stick around, because there’s still a lot waiting just ahead.