Sunday, July 30, 2023
There was still a while left before sunset in Los Angeles.
Matt walked out the front door of a house, went down the few steps at the entrance, and crossed the stone path that cut through the perfectly maintained front yard until he reached the garage located on one side of the property.
The door was open.
The interior was spacious, with enough room for four cars, clean walls, metal shelves, and a few boxes still stacked in one corner. Despite the move, the place was already starting to look organized.
Owen was there, arms crossed, observing the space and observing his two cars: the BMW and the Nissan.
"The move was a success," Matt said, stretching his arms as he stood beside him. Then he looked around with a smile. "The house is awesome, by the way."
Owen nodded slightly, "Thanks for the help."
They had just finished the move.
Throughout the entire weekend, Owen and Jenna had been packing their things. The previous week, they had started visiting houses in an almost military way.
Owen, seeing how excited Jenna was, decided to take it seriously.
And when both of them took something seriously, they usually didn't move forward with doubts.
In barely seven days, they found a house, negotiated the contract, paid what was necessary, and were already moving in.
Much faster than Jenna had initially imagined. She had thought Owen was paying too little attention to the matter the previous Sunday, and now, barely 1 week later, they had already moved.
There were still some things missing, of course, but more than 80% was done and they could already sleep here.
Owen treated it as something very important on his schedule, since the following week, that is tomorrow, he was already starting to film San Junipero, which meant full days on set.
If they didn't resolve the move before then, it would have taken them longer.
In the end, they hadn't gone too far.
They were still in Studio City, the same neighborhood where both of them had been renting their apartments until then.
Only now they were in Studio City Hills.
Their previous modern building was in a much more urban area, comfortable and practical, with restaurants, cafés, gyms, and studios relatively close by. But, at the end of the day, it was still a shared building. Hallways, elevators, neighbors, underground parking, and the constant feeling that, no matter how expensive the apartment was, privacy had a limit.
Studio City Hills was something else.
The slopes and canyons south of the San Fernando Valley offered a much quieter mix of nature, tree-lined streets, houses separated from one another, and open views toward the city. They were still close to the studios, the important areas of Los Angeles, and Owen's parents' house, but with enough distance to feel outside the noise.
Now they had more space, privacy, and calm, considering both of their growing fame.
The rent was 11,500 dollars a month.
A little more than the ten thousand they had initially thought, but the difference wasn't that big either, considering the money both of them had and what they had already been paying separately.
The house had two floors, hidden behind a black gate and tall hedges that almost completely blocked the view from the street.
It had around 2,800 square feet, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a garage for four cars, an open kitchen with a marble island, a large living room with windows facing the patio, a small rectangular pool, an outdoor terrace, and two separate offices, one for each of them.
It wasn't an exaggerated mansion that would cost them a lot to fill and keep from looking like a damn backroom.
And the jump was noticeable. It was no longer just an expensive apartment when you had your own pool, garden, and garage.
They even had two extra rooms left to decide later whether they wanted to set up a small gym, a home theater, a gaming area, or simply leave one as a guest room.
Matt looked at the cars for a few seconds and, suddenly, something came to mind, "Jenna doesn't have a car, right? Does she drive?" he asked.
He had never seen her drive. Or maybe he had simply never paid too much attention to it.
But in a city like Los Angeles, where public transportation wasn't exactly the most comfortable option, getting around by car was almost a necessity.
"She doesn't have one of her own, but she knows how to drive," Owen replied. "Sometimes she uses the BMW."
He paused, and then a small laugh escaped him, "She doesn't have much patience for traffic."
The image immediately appeared in his head: Jenna behind the wheel, muttering insults under her breath at some slow driver, passing him in a slightly reckless way, while he sat in the passenger seat, thanking the creator of the seatbelt.
The ironic thing was that Owen was the same guy who had bought himself a Nissan capable of going from zero to sixty miles per hour in record time and enjoyed that rush of adrenaline.
But there was something very different between stepping on the accelerator by his own choice and sitting next to Jenna when she lost her patience in the middle of Los Angeles traffic.
"For some reason, I can picture it," Matt murmured, looking upward without focusing on any particular point.
Then he shook his head, as if pushing that mental image away, and looked back at Owen, "By the way, do you already have the short film script finished?"
Owen nodded, "Yes. I actually finished it yesterday."
"Good. Are you going to hire Curry in the end?" Matt asked.
"There are already a lot of people asking for another short film. The channel purists," he added, letting out a laugh as he said that last part.
Matt knew Owen had been looking for new talent for Second Take Films for a while, especially directors who could take charge of future shorts under the channel's label.
They hadn't posted a short film in months.
In fact, they hadn't uploaded a single one in all of 2023.
For the older followers, those who considered themselves the true purists of the channel, that was already starting to feel almost like a betrayal. Second Take Films had been born with ambitious short films, well shot, with powerful concepts and stories that seemed too good for YouTube.
And now, between vlogs, trailers, and premieres, that origin seemed to have been left a little behind.
Owen knew it too. That was why he had been wanting to release a new short for a while. The last one had been Lights Out.
This time Matt wouldn't direct it.
That broke an important streak, since until then all the main short films on the channel had passed through his hands.
But Matt didn't mind in the slightest.
He would already have enough work with Chronicle once he finally finished the post-production of Lights Out. Besides, he had been the one who recommended Owen watch The Chair, convinced that Curry had shown surprisingly solid direction for someone from YouTube who made comedy videos.
"What will it be about?" Matt asked curiously. "Or are you going to keep acting mysterious?"
He knew Owen had been working on that script for a while, but he hadn't managed to get too many details out of him. He hadn't wanted to insist too much either.
"Psychological horror," Owen replied. "The title will be Curve."
Matt raised his eyebrows slightly.
"It's about a woman who wakes up on an extremely slippery, curved concrete surface. If she loses her balance or slides too far, she falls straight into a dark and deep abyss."
Matt nodded several times as he listened.
By that point, he no longer entirely understood how Owen kept pulling out idea after idea.
Although, to be fair, this time he seemed to have taken a little longer.
The year before, he had created Lights Out and One Minute Time Machine almost at the same time, as if the concepts were simply falling out of his pockets. In comparison, the fact that months had passed without him releasing another short made him seem a little more human.
Though only a little.
"Good concept," Matt finally murmured. "A character trying to survive against a fate that feels inevitable."
They kept chatting for a while longer about Curve.
First about the concept.
Then about the truly complicated part.
The logistics.
Owen began organizing his thoughts out loud, as if he needed to hear his own schedule to fit it properly inside his head.
He had to prepare a budget, and this time it couldn't be a smaller short film among acquaintances like the previous ones.
With the prestige he already had as a screenwriter and actor, added to the current size of his channel, the short film had to feel like a premium piece. Something superior even to Second Take Films' previous works, which had already had very high quality, but had also existed thanks to Matt, Tyler, and the rest of the technical crew working almost out of goodwill, accepting more modest salaries.
This time would be different.
He would have to pay Curry appropriately for a short film produced under the label of a production company like Second Take Films, which, with the two films in its history, had more than 400 million at the box office.
The same would happen with the lead actress, the special effects, the camera crew, art, sound, and every department involved.
Owen remembered that, in his past life, Curve was nine minutes and fifty-one seconds long.
It didn't seem like much. There were short films of fifteen, twenty, or even thirty minutes.
But for his channel, it would be quite a lot. And in fact, it would become the longest short on the channel.
The problem was the time Owen had available.
Even though he already had the script finished and had practically decided on the director, pre-production couldn't begin immediately at the pace he wanted.
On Monday, Owen would be busy with the Black Mirror shoot, which would last 18 days, not counting the weekends when they wouldn't be filming.
The expected finish date was Wednesday, August 23.
Until then, he wouldn't be able to move forward too much.
At most, he would close the deal with Curry to make it clear that he hadn't forgotten about him and that that "we'll talk again soon" hadn't been an empty phrase. He could also send him the script so he could start studying it, prepare a first technical script, and think about how he would bring the story to the screen.
After that, Owen would have to take care of the rest: budget, shooting plan, location, casting...
All the typical parts of pre-production, though on the scale of a short film.
Even so, the release date could play in his favor. If everything went well, Curve could be published between late September and early October.
Right when Lights Out would premiere at Fantastic Fest and, a few days later, begin its worldwide theatrical release.
Uploading a new horror short film around those dates wouldn't just be a return to the channel's origins.
It would also work as a promotional piece.
"Hey, guys!"
A voice interrupted them.
Owen and Matt turned their heads and saw Maya peeking in by the garage entrance.
"Jenna made coffee. Come to the living room," she said.
Matt nodded immediately, "We're coming, honey."
Maya smiled. Noticing that both of them seemed to be in the middle of a conversation, she didn't insist and disappeared back the way she had come.
Owen slowly turned his head toward his friend, "I can breathe the love..." he said, in a solemn tone and inhaling exaggeratedly.
Matt made a dismissive gesture with his hand, "Don't exaggerate."
"I'm not exaggerating," Owen replied. "When are you making it official? Because if you're already using those kinds of nicknames, it sounds pretty serious."
Matt looked away and scratched the back of his neck, "I don't know..."
His relationship with Maya was going great.
They hadn't explicitly said they were boyfriend and girlfriend. There had been no big formal conversation, no official label, no phrase like "so, what are we?".
But, at the same time, it was obvious that they were no longer simply dating.
"I'm jealous," Owen said, bringing a hand to his chin with a thoughtful air.
Matt frowned, "Why? Remember, you have a girlfriend."
"Not because of that," Owen clarified, "It's because your father-in-law is going to be Ethan Hawke himself and your mother-in-law Uma Thurman."
Although technically Matt and Maya weren't married, the moment someone started seriously dating another person, that person's parents already entered that dangerous and ambiguous territory of possible in-laws.
"I know!" Matt admitted, "Isn't that crazy? They're actors I've seen in movies dozens of times, and now I might end up having dinner with them, though separately, of course."
He shook his head, as if it was still difficult for him to process, "Although I have to say Ethan is a little scary."
Owen raised an eyebrow, amused, "Ethan?"
"Yes. He's kind, but he has that calm look that makes it seem like he's analyzing you all the time," Matt explained and made a brief pause. "And on top of that, he talks way too highly of you. Sometimes I think that, if he could choose, he'd prefer you as his daughter's boyfriend."
Owen let out a laugh and patted him on the shoulder, "Relax. Ethan can seem cold at first, but he's a great person. Very warm once he gets comfortable."
Matt nodded, knowing that Owen had shared a lot of time with him on the set of Good Will Hunting, and in Cannes they had seemed close.
When they reached the living room, they found a scene that made it quite clear the move was still far from over.
The room was spacious, with enormous windows facing the patio and letting in the golden light of late afternoon.
The main sofa was already placed in front of a wall where, soon, a huge television would end up being mounted. But around it there were still stacked boxes, open bags, loose cables, some lamps without a place yet, and a couple of paintings leaning against the wall.
Jenna and Maya weren't the only ones there.
Tyler, Eric, Gaten, and Caleb were also there, having helped during the move and now resting as if they had finished a full day of intense filming.
Jenna, for her part, had taken out one of her favorite coffee makers and set it up to prepare quality coffee.
She handed a cup to Matt and then another to Owen.
"Thanks," Owen said, accepting it.
Matt took his and couldn't help commenting with a slight smile, "You know you have a serious problem with coffee, right?"
"You're the same way with beer, except your habit is much more harmful to your health," Jenna replied.
Matt had no answer to that.
Eric burst out laughing.
Tyler made a sound of approval, as if he had just seen a perfect hit in a fight.
Gaten and Caleb also started laughing.
After a while, as everyone drank coffee and recovered their energy after moving boxes for hours, Gaten let his gaze wander around the house.
Finally, he fixed his eyes on Owen, "How much was it per month?"
"Eleven thousand five hundred," Owen replied, taking a sip from his cup.
Tyler whistled, "That's a lot."
For many people, that figure was an entire monthly salary. For others, even more.
"Is renting worth it?" Eric asked, leaning forward a little. "I mean, if you're going to spend that much per month, wouldn't it be better to buy the house?"
Caleb joined in, "I don't think it's that simple. In one year, you'd be spending around one hundred and thirty thousand dollars approximately. This house must easily be worth more than a million."
"So?" Eric replied. "My point still stands. If you spend one hundred and thirty thousand a year, in ten years that's one million three hundred thousand. You buy the house. You just have to save."
Caleb let out a snort, as if that argument seemed incomplete to him, "And where do you live in the meantime? With your mom while you save the money?"
Eric opened his mouth, stopped, and then slowly nodded, "Good point."
He paused and pointed at Owen with his thumb, "But if you're this guy, you can make the expense so you don't end up paying for a house for ten years and still renting."
A person with high income could pay rent like that, but after ten years they would have handed over a fortune without keeping anything of their own. The problem was that buying a house at that level required enormous capital from the beginning, something that even for someone with good income could be difficult to justify.
Jenna, even as a top-level actress after the phenomenon of Wednesday, with a net worth close to five million dollars, would have to think about it quite a bit before buying a property like that.
Owen, however, was a different case.
"To be precise, this house is worth 3.2 million dollars," Owen said, joining the conversation. "I looked up similar properties in the area. With this rent, it would take me around two hundred and seventy-eight months to pay the equivalent of the total value. That is, twenty-three years."
Caleb blinked, "Wow. More expensive than I imagined."
It wasn't just the price that surprised him.
He was also surprised that Owen had already done the exact calculations between rent, purchase value, and equivalent time.
"Besides how expensive it is to buy a house like this," Jenna added, sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed and the cup between her hands, "we're actors. We travel a lot, spend months on shoots, change schedules all the time. Sometimes it's better to rent than tie yourself to a permanent property."
Owen nodded in agreement with that.
Buying a house meant assuming they wanted to stay there for years. And they didn't even know exactly what their lives would look like twelve months from now.
The conversation continued for a while.
In the end, Jenna invited them to dinner. She said it was the least she could do after the help.
No one refused. They ordered Korean food for delivery, and Matt, taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't going to pay, shamelessly added a pack of beers to the order.
Almost at midnight, one by one, everyone began saying goodbye.
The day and the move were over. Owen closed the front door and stayed there for a few seconds, looking at the place, not as tidy as he would have liked, 'Sleep, since tomorrow starts early,' he thought, making a slight grimace as he brought a hand to his forehead.
He definitely shouldn't have accepted those beers Matt had offered him.
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