Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙 ✦ The next morning, Evan woke because his body told him to.
The habit was too deeply set.
No matter how late he slept, he woke around six-thirty.
He had meant to close his eyes for a little longer, but then he looked at the blonde woman wrapped around him and lost any hope of sleep.
What was this?
Did the best hunters always come dressed as prey?
Naomi had not been drunk enough to lose control last night.
Not even close.
Under the blanket, he pinched her hard enough to make her open her eyes in confusion.
She stared at him for two seconds before her brain seemed to come online.
“Dear Director Rosenberg,” she murmured, resting her head against his chest and touching his face, “it’s barely after six.
We still have more than an hour.
Aren’t you going to sleep a little longer?” “No,” Evan said.
“I feel cheated.
You were nowhere near as drunk as you pretended to be.
You made me feel like I had been played in circles, so now I need to punish you.” “Mm.” Naomi smiled, pulled him closer, and told him exactly what she wanted.
“And how do you want to punish me, Director Rosenberg?
Are you holding an audition now?
Tell me what role you need me to play.
Not Catwoman.
We shoot today, and I can’t risk getting hurt.” She liked this side of him.
It let her see an Evan who was not only the old-souled workaholic who lived behind a camera and a shooting plan.
Half an hour later, Evan got up in a much better mood and dressed.
Naomi covered her mouth and hurried into the bathroom.
He left her there, returned to his own room to wash up, and prepared for the day’s work.
“Naomi.” Inside the temporary dormitory set at the school, Evan called her over.
The take they had just shot was good, but he wanted another one.
It could be better.
“You did well just now,” he said.
“But this isn’t the turning point yet.
This is still the first time Tree has been killed.
Pull back the physical weakness.” Lily, the makeup artist, immediately started chasing Naomi for touch-ups.
“Ethan, no problem on your side,” Evan said.
“That was good.
Hold onto that intensity.” From the third day onward, the crew began finding a little rhythm.
The exterior school material slowly wrapped, and once they moved inside, everyone found the work easier to manage.
The schedule started catching up.
That let Evan breathe.
The interior scenes had no crowd of students watching from the sidelines, fewer background actors and minor players drifting through marks, and fewer outside distractions.
The acting was harder, but the number of ruined takes fell sharply.
“Cut.
Good.
Next setup.” Luke stood near the doorway and watched the young director with a complicated expression.
Evan was learning quickly.
The crew was also stabilizing under his coordination.
Over the past week, Luke believed they had finally caught up with the shooting plan.
If things kept moving well, they might even finish the school material ahead of schedule.
This younger film student, two classes behind Luke, was moving in the right direction, and each step looked steadier than the last.
“Uma, that doesn’t work,” Evan said.
“Wrong emotional beat.
Don’t play it like you are already trying to kill Tree.
She doesn’t know that damn cake is poisoned.
Reset.
Again.” The scene was simple: Uma, playing Lori, offered Naomi a cake, and Tree threw it away without eating.
It was Uma’s first real scene.
Until now, she had only appeared in scattered shots.
From this point on, she would show up more often.
This kind of stumble was normal.
Uma needed to find the character’s rhythm.
Evan was not in a hurry.
This scene also needed several versions with different energy, including the version where Tree did eat the cake and died.
“All right.
That one works.
Take the next two days off.
We resume in three days and finish the school material.
There’s not much left here.
Once we clear it, we move locations.” The take was good enough, so he did not push harder.
Tomorrow was a day off, and everyone needed it.
A feature film was nothing like the experimental shorts he had made before.
A feature could not be built by one or two people.
It took a crew, actors, departments, and the combined labor of everyone involved.
Individual ability mattered, but it could not replace the whole machine.
Evan was lucky.
The core crew had not worked on major productions, but they had experience.
Most of them were capable, and they were young enough to keep their minds on the work instead of coasting like veterans who had learned every way to hide from responsibility.
As usual, he waited until everyone else had left before getting into his truck.
Someone knocked on the window.
Evan saw Luke, unlocked the door, and let him climb into the passenger seat.
“Why didn’t you leave?” Evan asked.
“Go rest for two days, Luke.
The schedule is caught up.
Really.” He started the truck and drove out of the school toward the hotel.
“I wanted to tell you the hospital is almost dressed,” Luke said.
“Take a look when you can.
If something doesn’t work, tell me before we finish at the school so I can coordinate changes with props and set dressing.” Luke looked at him.
For a director who was not even twenty-one, Evan had done exceptionally well.
If they kept shooting according to plan, this movie would be completed.
“Okay,” Evan said.
“When we come back from the break, I’ll make time to look.
Where am I dropping you, the hotel?” “The hotel.
I’m not going back to Los Angeles.
I want to sleep for two days.” Luke opened the door when they arrived, then leaned against the window.
“You’re not staying?
Where are you going?
It’s almost dark.” “My mother called this afternoon.
I’m going back to the farm.
I’ve been so busy I haven’t visited.” He turned on the radio and accelerated toward Ventura.
Work was going better, which let him relax enough to spend two days with his mother.
By the time he parked in front of the house, it was fully dark.
The two golden retrievers sat on the porch wagging their tails.
As soon as he got out, they circled him happily and followed him into the dining room.
“Mom, what’s for dinner?” Evan asked.
“Did you learn something new?” Anna was setting the table.
He hugged her.
“Sit down, sweetheart.
Your father will be down in a minute.
I made tuna salad, green beans, and roast beef.
How is filming?
Going smoothly?” He watched her carry the food to the table.
Reuben came downstairs and sat down too.
Once Anna put roast beef and salad on Evan’s plate, he took a bite.
“Mm.
This is great.
Filming is going all right.
Everyone has been working for a long time, so we have tomorrow and the day after off.” “You’ve lost weight,” Reuben said, wiping salad from his beard with a napkin.
“Not as easy being a director as you imagined?” “Of course not.
Sometimes I feel like I need to split myself into three people.
One thing after another.
Every day has more work than I can finish.” Anna looked at him with open concern.
“Evan, don’t put so much pressure on yourself.
You’re already doing wonderfully.
You’re only twenty.
I believe you will succeed.” “Mom, I’m fine,” he said.
“I enjoy it.” He ate dinner with his mother in the warm rhythm of the house, watched a game with his father afterward, and only then went back to his room.
The sudden shift from the tension of production to the slower pace of the farm made his whole body feel wrong.
He kept wanting to find something to do.
Only when he drove back to Orange County and the crew started moving again did he feel at home in his own skin.
Sometimes he thought there had to be something wrong with him.
The moment he left the set, part of him could not stop worrying.
Day by day, shooting continued.
Everyone kept the rhythm they had found before the break.
Evan knew the crew had conflicts.
Some of the more experienced workers looked down on him as a rookie director.
At least on the surface, they kept it professional, and the basic discipline held.
It was not only the two actresses.
The set dresser and the prop master argued often too.
Every time, Evan stepped in and forced them to set the conflict aside, at least in front of the work.
He glanced at his watch.
Three in the afternoon.
They might be able to wrap early today.
The last school scene was simple.
Uma would hand Naomi a piece of cake.
This time, Naomi would eat it and be killed.
Everyone was in a decent mood.
They all knew they were about to leave the school.
After more than twenty days of shooting, over half the film was done.
Relief showed on every face.
“Okay, last scene,” Evan said.
“Once this is done, we’re finished here.
Naomi, keep your state.
Eat the damn cake.
Ross, this is real, right?
Don’t give her a prop cake.
Naomi is not swallowing plastic.” “Relax.
I know the difference between plastic and cake,” Ross said.
“Naomi, if I were you, I’d take a bite first.
Maybe I’ll secretly swap the real one for the prop.” Everyone was loose enough to joke without thinking.
“All right.
Get ready.” Evan shouldered the camera and watched Uma hand Naomi the cake.
Then Uma seemed to lose her footing.
Her foot caught on something, and she fell.
As she went down, her elbow drove into Naomi’s stomach.
Both women cried out.
Evan lowered the camera.
Everyone rushed to help them.
He had seen it clearly.
Naomi was curled on the floor, arms locked around her stomach, face tight with pain.
This time, Evan could not hold back the anger.
The urgent thing was Naomi.
If she was hurt, she needed a hospital.
“Shit.
Fuck.
Naomi, how bad is it?
Do you need a hospital?” He lifted her carefully and set her on a chair.
Her face had gone pale.
Naomi sat there clutching her stomach.
After a moment, she said, “I don’t think it’s serious.
Give me half an hour.
I can keep going.” “Okay.
Everyone break.” He had no proof the fall had been deliberate.
Anger, and his instinct to protect Naomi, made him treat suspicion as fact.
He shouted the order, then walked straight to Uma, who was sitting in a chair rubbing her arm.
He looked into her eyes and kept his voice low.
“Listen carefully.
I don’t know whether that was an accident.
I do know it cannot happen again.
Any unsafe behavior that delays the shoot will have consequences.
I will not hesitate to remove an unstable element from this production, even if it costs me more money.
Do you understand?
Look at me and say you understand.” Uma looked at his dark expression and nodded.
“I understand.” Evan walked back behind the monitor and rubbed his forehead.
Sometimes he truly did not know what to make of actors under pressure.
This was only a small production with young performers.
He could only imagine how difficult major stars could become.
✦ ✦ ✦ Ready for more?
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.