Tuesday, August 15, 2023
That Tuesday began the same way the last few days of Owen's life had begun.
Very early, since he had a schedule he absolutely had to follow: the filming of San Junipero. Even though it was in LA, there was a fixed time to be on set and get ready for the filming session.
It wasn't like the days when he could go to the office a little later if he wanted or work from home.
So by around six in the morning, he was already awake.
He went downstairs to have breakfast with Jenna in the kitchen of the new house, which little by little had stopped feeling so new. There were still a few spaces left to fill and shelves with only a few objects, but it no longer gave the impression of being a recently occupied property. There were signs of routine everywhere.
Owen sat across from the kitchen island with a cup of tea and a plate of toast. Both slices had a layer of raspberry jam that Jenna had bought a couple of days earlier.
As he ate, he unlocked his phone. He had several unread messages from Matt.
Owen opened the chat.
[Matt: It's official!]
There were several links below it.
Owen already knew what he meant. They had spent days waiting for Universal, Blumhouse, and Fantastic Fest to launch the first wave of official announcements. Even so, he opened the first link.
It took him to Deadline.
The outlet was one of the most widely read publications in the entertainment industry. It wasn't exactly a fan site or a rumor magazine. Deadline was where studios leaked deals, dates, castings, distribution moves, and news they wanted to establish as something serious.
DEADLINE
August 14, 2023, 10:00 p.m.
Lights Out, Written and Produced by Owen Ashford, to Have Its World Premiere at Fantastic Fest Ahead of Its Global Release With Universal and Blumhouse
Universal Pictures and Blumhouse announced this Tuesday that Lights Out, the horror feature written, produced, and financed by Owen Ashford, will have its world premiere at Fantastic Fest 2023 before arriving in theaters worldwide on October 6.
The film, directed by Matt Rogers, stars Anya Taylor-Joy, Sarah Ashford, and Elizabeth Ashford. The story follows a young woman who returns to her family home to protect her younger sister from an entity that only appears when the lights go out.
The project arrives with major success online following its viral short film of the same title and its first trailer uploaded to Ashford's channel: Second Take Films received millions of views.
Matt Rogers, who previously directed Paranormal Activity and the Oscar-winning short film: Paperman, will present the film alongside Ashford and part of the cast in Austin. Fantastic Fest will take place from September 21 to 28.
Lights Out will be released in theaters worldwide on Friday, October 6.
…
Owen read the full article once. Then he went back and opened the second link. This time it took him to X. It was a post from Fantastic Fest's official account.
@fantasticfest - 10:01 PM · Aug 14, 2023
Turn off the lights.
We're thrilled to announce the World Premiere of LIGHTS OUT, written and produced by Owen Ashford, directed by Matt Roger, and starring Anya Taylor-Joy, Sarah Ashford and Elizabeth Ashford.
Coming to Fantastic Fest 2023 before its worldwide theatrical release on October 6.
#FantasticFest #LightsOut
Owen stared at the post for a few seconds.
It wasn't a surprise, but seeing it published from the festival's official account carried a different weight.
Generally, every year in August, Fantastic Fest announced part of its lineup both on its official website and on X. It was normal. Dozens of films, special screenings, premieres, and international titles spread across eight days.
But a specific post for Lights Out showed its relevance.
It wasn't just another film on the schedule. Universal's name, Blumhouse's name, and, above all, his own gave it a different level of visibility. The festival could have included it in the general announcement, as it did with many others, but it had also decided to separate it into its own post.
That didn't happen with just any title.
Owen hadn't seen anything the night before. Since the festival had such a heavy focus on horror, it liked to publish the lineup at night, and by then he had already gone to sleep. Lately, he had been waking up far too early to stay up late.
He returned to his chat with Matt.
He didn't open the other links. They were probably variations of the same news in other outlets, or the announcement from Universal and Blumhouse. Instead, he scrolled down to the last text message.
[Matt: The trailer passed 50 million views! Finally!]
Below it was an exaggerated celebration gif, with someone jumping as if they had just won the lottery.
Owen raised an eyebrow, curious about the figure. He had no reason to doubt it. Matt wouldn't lie about something like that.
The number still sounded enormous for the trailer of a low-budget horror film that he had uploaded to his own YouTube channel.
Although, to be fair, that was already starting to become the norm for Second Take Films videos.
He replied with a gif. It showed a man in a suit, his face distorted by a filter that enlarged his jaw to ridiculous proportions, nodding with a serious expression while adjusting his tie as though he had just closed the most important deal on Wall Street.
Afterward, while taking another sip from his cup, he left the chat and opened YouTube. He went straight to his channel, opened the Lights Out trailer, and looked at the counter.
Sure enough, it had passed the milestone.
50,003,485 views
'Not bad...' Owen thought as he paused the video before it started playing and scrolled down to the comments.
💬 Comments:
@berkys:
bro, the short already traumatized me last year. Now seeing it turned into a movie with Universal and Blumhouse behind it feels like watching a creepypasta evolve
@mathew-y1k:
Finally, Anya in another horror movie! She gave a masterclass in The Witch
@secondtakeitslife:
Owen uploaded a three-minute short, made it go viral, financed the movie, got Universal/Blumhouse to distribute it, and now it's going to Fantastic Fest. This guy is playing a different sport.
@johnka1997:
the simplest concept I've ever seen in a horror movie, how did no one ever think of it before? give me my ticket!
@damianPS:
What the hell is that speed? I remember the trailer was uploaded last year and in barely a year or less the movie was already made...!
@Cassiieezs:
I like that they don't show too much of the entity. Hopefully the movie keeps that. The best thing in horror movies is the mystery
@evelinakomisvo3:
Elizabeth Ashford makes me curious, she doesn't seem like just some forced family cameo
@timmy_tough02:
Now I understand where Owen and Sarah got their looks from! Adopt me, Elizabeth 🤤!
@Lnur22:
Second Take Films doesn't even feel like a YouTube channel anymore, it's hit after hit dude 💀
@markii1068:
I watched the short when it came out and thought: "oh, Owen and Matt should make a movie out of this." One year later: Fantastic Fest, Universal, Blumhouse, Anya Taylor-Joy... Incredible.
@amandasims9x:
Anya had already proven in The Witch that she can carry psychological horror. This looks more commercial and simple, but it still suits her perfectly.
@notseverydone_1:
Good thing Matt is the director, he created an incredible atmosphere of tension in the short film
@ronswts:
Horror is looking way too good this year. On one hand, Lights Out, from my favorite film channel, and on the other, finally the Five Nights at Freddy's movie, based on my favorite video game. This October is going to be insane
@eesteeJH:
I couldn't help remembering the short, so I went back to watch it again and saw that it already has almost 90 million views, wtf? Road to 100M, guys
...
Owen read several comments until he stopped.
The reception was very good.
He hadn't needed to look for very long to notice it. More than eighty percent of the comments were positive. The trailer had not only gone viral, it also had an enormous ratio of likes to dislikes and a fairly favorable comment section for what the internet usually was.
Most people praised the same thing: the concept was simple, but effective.
An entity that only appeared in the dark. A clear rule. A fear that was easy to understand. There was no need to explain too much.
There were also many comments about the little that had been shown of the performances.
Anya received praise for the tension she conveyed in only a few shots. Sarah, meanwhile, came as a surprise to many who only knew her from One-Minute Time Machine. And his mother, Elizabeth, also sparked curiosity, especially because her character seemed to carry more weight than some had expected.
There were practically no comments accusing them of nepotism.
Owen had expected some. He honestly didn't care, and neither did his mother. Sarah was perhaps the most sensitive to that kind of thing.
But at least for now, the conversation wasn't going in that direction.
Partly because he had already explained it in previous interviews.
He had financed the movie one hundred percent. The movie was his. The risk was his. If he wanted to hire his sister, his mother, his best friend, or anyone else, he wasn't using someone else's money to favor his inner circle.
They weren't other people's resources.
It was more like Adam Sandler working with his friends, or directors who cast the same actors again and again because they trusted them. Christopher Nolan had his regular collaborators. So did Scorsese. So did Tarantino.
If the movie failed, the blow would be his as well.
Owen stopped reading the comments.
The final cut of Lights Out had been completed on August 3, barely twelve days earlier.
Since then, Universal and Blumhouse had started moving the marketing machine much more seriously. Not from scratch, because the trailer had already done much of the work.
One of the first moves had been securing the premiere at Fantastic Fest in record time.
The other was already marked on the calendar: the second trailer, which would be released on September 5.
This time, it wouldn't be released on Owen's channel, but on Universal Pictures' channel.
Owen had agreed.
In fact, he even preferred it. He didn't want to turn his channel into a folder full of repeated promotional material. Second Take Films worked better when every video felt important.
The first trailer had been the important one. He didn't see any need to upload another preview from the same channel.
He had already seen many comments on his channel asking for a new short film. They would probably be disappointed if they saw that it was just another trailer for the same movie.
So the second trailer would be uploaded to Universal's YouTube channel, which had more than 10 million subscribers, with Blumhouse amplifying it across social media.
Going back to the achievement of fifty million views, that was no small number for a trailer.
Owen remembered, for example, that The Black Phone had been one of Blumhouse's biggest hits the previous year.
Distributed by Universal, it had ended up earning more than one hundred and sixty million dollars at the worldwide box office. And its main trailer, even after the movie's entire run, was sitting at nearly forty million views.
Lights Out had already surpassed that by several million.
And there was still more of Universal's marketing campaign to come, the traction the second trailer would bring, Fantastic Fest, and everything else.
He knew views didn't always translate into tickets sold. The internet could inflate expectations that later failed to reach theaters. A viral trailer didn't guarantee a successful movie.
But it wasn't an insignificant figure either.
The original short had already started circulating again and was approaching ninety million views. The trailer had just passed fifty million. Universal and Blumhouse were going to turn that attention into a full campaign.
The movie could enter October with the momentum of a horror phenomenon.
Maybe it wasn't absurd to think about a gross above one hundred and fifty million.
The Black Phone had achieved it with excellent word of mouth, good reviews, and a solid campaign. It had also shown strong legs at the box office and received a critical response far above the genre average, with more than eighty percent on Rotten Tomatoes and fairly favorable comments from specialized media.
Lights Out still had to prove that.
But Owen also knew how much Lights Out had made at the box office in his past life. He knew that, with everything happening before release, the chances of surpassing one hundred and fifty million were very high.
'Maybe two hundred million...' he thought, swallowing slightly as he imagined it.
He had invested six million dollars.
If the movie reached a figure close to two hundred million worldwide, and considering the percentage that belonged to him after its theatrical run, they could end up bringing in 50 million directly for him.
Not the clean figure, of course. There was Matt's backend participation and, as always, the damn taxes.
But even so, it would be an absurd amount of money.
And that was without counting what he was already making from Good Will Hunting.
After surpassing 300 million at the end of July, the movie had continued adding to its total during the first two weeks of August. It was now sitting at around 321 million globally.
According to the people at Neon, its theatrical run was entering its final stretch. It would probably finish winding down by the end of August or in the first few days of September, depending on the last remaining markets.
Even so, the result was already very good.
In his past life, Good Will Hunting had grossed around 225 million dollars. In this reality, it was on track to surpass that figure by more than one hundred million.
Of course, the comparison wasn't perfect.
The original movie had been released in 1997. At the time, the average movie ticket in the United States cost around $4.59. If the 225 million were divided by that average price, the result was approximately 49 million tickets sold.
Today, in 2023, the average ticket price was a little over ten dollars, and it could be considerably higher in certain cities or premium formats. If a movie sold that same number of tickets at current prices, its gross would exceed 490 million.
That changed the way the numbers looked.
Adjusted by tickets sold, the original Good Will Hunting had been a much bigger phenomenon than it seemed when looking only at the raw gross. It also confirmed something fairly obvious: today, an adult drama had far fewer chances of selling that many tickets than it had in the nineties.
But that didn't make what was happening in this reality any less impressive.
So, if he managed to achieve that level of success with Lights Out, Owen could end the year with a net worth large enough to finance his own blockbuster if he wanted to.
"Do I wake up early with you, make you breakfast, and this is how you repay me? By ignoring me?"
Owen heard Jenna's question and looked up from his phone.
Her tone sounded offended, but there was a clearly amused undertone in her voice.
Owen wasn't even looking at anything specific. The screen was still open on the Lights Out trailer, but his attention had become trapped in the numbers, the possibilities, and that almost surreal idea that he might be able to finance a massive movie on his own.
Across from him, Jenna was also eating breakfast. She looked at him with one eyebrow raised, holding her cup in one hand.
She had been waking up early for him over the last few days.
Not because she had to.
As an executive producer during preproduction for the second season of Wednesday, Jenna had work every day, but no longer with the same intensity as at the beginning.
The first few weeks after signing her new contract had been heavier. Meetings, calls, creative decisions, conversations with the showrunners, and discussions about the direction the series should take.
Now, in mid-August, the situation was more organized.
The scripts for each episode had already been finalized. Jenna had managed to eliminate the love triangle at its roots and push the season toward a clearer gothic horror tone, within what the series could allow. The most important casting decisions for the new characters were practically closed.
That didn't mean she had no work.
But her schedule was much more manageable.
She didn't need to wake up at six in the morning to go to an office, or join virtual meetings as soon as the sun came up. She had woken up early because she wanted to spend time with Owen before he left for the shoot, make him breakfast, and see him off.
Owen raised both hands as if surrendering.
Then he locked his phone and set it aside on the island, "I was just replying to the things Matt sent me. He gets upset if I take too long to answer him."
So far, Matt hadn't complained. Probably because he knew Owen was in the middle of filming, going to bed earlier than usual and waking up very early as well.
Jenna rested her chin in the palm of her hand, "Sounds like a complicated girlfriend," she commented with a slight smile.
Owen laughed, "He is. Very emotionally demanding."
Jenna smiled too, but then she stared at him for a few seconds, as if she had just noticed something, "You woke up in a good mood today."
Owen blinked, "Mm? What do you mean? I always wake up in a good mood," he said, acting slightly offended.
"Not exactly. I'm not saying you wake up in a bad mood," Jenna clarified, "But you're usually quieter."
Owen looked at her without answering immediately.
"It's not a bad thing," she added, giving a small shrug, "I like it. It's just an observation."
Now that they had been living together for almost a month, they shared something that had not previously been part of their routine: mornings.
Owen wasn't grumpy when he woke up, nor was he in a bad mood, nor did he need half an hour before he started functioning. He was simply quieter. More automatic.
That morning, however, he had laughed, joked, and even used that falsely offended tone he adopted whenever he wanted to act dramatic without taking himself seriously.
"Maybe..." Owen admitted, somewhat surprised by the analysis, "As for you, I'd say you're always in a good mood," he added, offering his own analysis as well.
Jenna could have woken up at eight or nine without any problem. Her schedule allowed it. But even so, she had decided to get up at six to keep him company, make him breakfast, and spend some time with him before he left.
Jenna smiled with a certain satisfaction and picked up her coffee cup, "Yes, I know, I'm the best," she said with false modesty as she took a sip of her coffee.
"How humble," Owen commented.
"You're not exactly one to talk," Jenna replied.
They continued talking while they ate breakfast. Owen told her about the Fantastic Fest announcement and the official confirmation that the world premiere of Lights Out would take place there.
Jenna listened attentively and smiled, "I'm sure Sarah will be very happy."
Owen nodded.
Fantastic Fest wasn't just any festival. In the country, it was probably the most prestigious horror, science fiction, and fantasy film festival, and one of the most influential in the entire American continent.
Unlike Cannes or Sundance, it moved away from traditional drama and more contemplative independent cinema. At Fantastic Fest, fast pacing, special effects, monsters, action, and horror dominated.
Its prestige also extended far beyond Austin. Movies that later became commercial successes or titles deeply loved by audiences had screened there, such as Smile or Zombieland.
That was why getting in had not been guaranteed.
Although Universal had promised in the deal that it would do everything possible, the deadline was very tight. The distribution agreement had been finalized only recently, and getting the movie into the festival lineup required moving quickly.
The fact that Lights Out had secured a place there was already an achievement.
Not only because of the movie's existing hype, Owen's name, or the weight of Universal and Blumhouse. Also because the festival committee had watched it and decided it was a good movie for their audience.
"Yes, she will be," Owen said, also smiling as he imagined Sarah's reaction.
Owen had received the news a few days earlier, directly from Jason Blum. But he still hadn't told his sister.
He preferred to build suspense and let her find out through the festival's official announcement and the news stories that had come out the night before.
For Sarah, it would be huge.
It was her first feature film. Her debut in a movie made for theaters. The fact that it would also premiere at such a prestigious and well-known festival within the genre made it more special than a simple commercial release.
"And the best part will be seeing her at the premiere dressed entirely in pink like Bo Peep," Owen said, unable to stop himself from letting out a small laugh.
He still remembered the bet he had made with Sarah at Cannes. It was recorded in the vlog. He was sure he wasn't the only one who remembered it.
They had competed to see who could correctly predict the most winners at the festival awards. Owen had gotten more right, two, while Sarah had only guessed one.
The winner could ask the loser to do whatever they wanted.
Before finalizing the bet, Sarah had spoken out loud and said that, if she won, she would make Owen attend his next premiere in an entirely pink outfit.
But Owen won.
And after winning, he decided to give Sarah the exact same condition in return.
Jenna looked at him as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard, "Are you seriously going to make her honor that bet at her first premiere?"
"Yes. Why not? A bet is a bet," Owen said, giving a slight shrug, "Besides, pink is fashionable thanks to Barbie."
The doll's movie was becoming a massive box-office success, surpassing Oppenheimer.
Jenna shook her head, "You're hopeless... And you'll only make her even angrier with you. Let me remind you that you're not exactly on the best terms with her right now."
Owen knew what she meant.
He had gotten into a small argument with Sarah.
Nothing he considered too serious. More like one of those moralistic outbursts from his sister that, in his opinion, greatly exaggerated the situation.
Sarah had landed the role of Agnes for the second season of Wednesday. She had reached the final stage, competing against two other actresses, and had to do a chemistry test with Jenna.
The character had direct dialogue and close interaction with Wednesday Addams, so that test was mandatory.
At that stage, Jenna's opinion carried enormous weight.
It wasn't a formality.
It easily accounted for around eighty percent of the final decision. Jenna had real veto power. If she said she didn't feel any chemistry with an actress, or that the dynamic didn't work, the showrunners and the director weren't simply going to contradict her. Her opinion would be taken very seriously.
It wasn't absolute power, of course.
But once they were down to three finalists with proven talent, the test with Jenna practically became the final filter.
Sarah knew that, which was why she had asked Jenna not to do her any favors. To be completely objective.
And Jenna had been. It had always been her intention to remain professional and not deny another actress the opportunity. And she liked that Sarah had shown that kind of attitude.
Owen stayed out of it. He didn't apply pressure, hint at anything, or ask Jenna to choose his sister.
Out of the three finalists, Jenna ultimately said that Evie Templeton and Sarah were the ones she liked the most. For her, the decision was between those two. She saw them as fairly evenly matched, each with different advantages, but without a clear enough difference to lean one way with complete confidence.
In the end, Netflix made the final choice.
They chose Sarah.
For the first few days, it seemed like good news without too many complications. But then Jenna learned a more internal detail. Artistically, Netflix considered Sarah and Evie to be at a very similar level. The price wasn't a major difference either, although Evie may have been the slightly cheaper option.
The reason?
Corporate convenience.
Choosing Sarah could help them maintain a closer relationship with Owen, just as he was about to finish a series that would attract competition. Having his sister on Wednesday didn't guarantee anything, but it could earn them some points in future conversations.
Jenna had told Owen.
And Owen, without thinking too much about it, ended up casually telling Sarah.
He hadn't expected it to bother her.
To him, it was a minor detail. A logical industry decision. Sarah had reached the final stage on her own merit. She had passed several rounds of auditions, done a good chemistry test with Jenna, and, from an acting standpoint, they saw her as being on the same level as another strong candidate.
That alone was already a huge achievement.
If Sarah had acted badly, they wouldn't have given her the role just because she was his sister. Not for a character who needed good chemistry with the lead and a solid performance.
But Sarah didn't see it that way. She was bothered by the idea that Netflix had also chosen her because they wanted to please her brother, who had nothing to do with Wednesday season 2.
Owen saw it as cheap moralism. That was how the industry worked.
It had always worked that way.
"She'll get over it soon," Owen said, without much concern, "And I'll tell her about the pink outfit when September comes."
Jenna didn't say anything else. She was his sister, and he would know how to handle it. Besides, she knew Owen well enough to know that once he had formed an opinion, it was difficult to make him change his mind.
Very difficult.
They finished breakfast, and Owen began getting ready to leave.
"Can I take the BMW?" Jenna asked as she picked up her cup, "I don't feel like going with a driver today."
Owen looked at her for a second and then nodded, "You made me breakfast. I think that's a fair trade," he said, taking the Nissan keys instead.
"Just don't go a hundred miles per hour," he added in a lightly teasing tone.
Jenna punched him in the shoulder, "Shut up. I always respect the speed limits."
Owen smiled but didn't argue.
After a goodbye kiss, he left the house and headed to the set to continue filming San Junipero, which had already entered its final week.
On Saturday, with a shorter day than usual, filming would come to an end.
It didn't take Owen too long to arrive.
San Junipero was being filmed between rented soundstages, adapted spaces, and a few locations prepared specifically for scenes that required a more controlled environment. That day, they would be working on one of the sets built to represent the real world.
He left the car in the parking lot. The Nissan, with an appearance far too sporty to go unnoticed, drew attention among production vans, cars belonging to the technical crew, and more discreet vehicles.
'It looks like I'm trying to show off,' Owen thought with a sigh as he got out and closed the door.
Who came to work at 6:30 in the morning in a car like that?
He entered through one of the side entrances. As he walked through the place, he greeted the people who crossed his path: lighting technicians, production assistants, members of the art department, wardrobe, makeup, camera operators, and a few extras waiting for instructions.
He finally reached the area where Kogonada, the cinematographer, and Sadie were standing.
"Good morning, today is going to be a long day," Owen commented.
All three returned the greeting and nodded.
"Definitely. At least it'll be calmer for us at the beginning," Sadie commented as she observed the setup.
The scenes they would film during the first half of the day took place in the real world, not in the digital world of San Junipero.
By that point, the story had already left clear clues that San Junipero wasn't real. The characters knew it, and some earlier scenes had already shown that there was something more behind that apparent nighttime fantasy. But this part of the episode explained it more clearly.
San Junipero was a simulated reality.
A system where the consciousness of deceased people could be uploaded and permanently housed. There, they could live in an artificial city, young, bright, and designed as an idealized version of the past.
The living could also enter.
People who were seriously ill, elderly, or close to death could visit San Junipero for a limited amount of time: five hours per week, until midnight on Saturday. After that, access expired.
After spending their first night together, a scene they had already filmed days earlier with a more romantic and less explicit tone than in the original version, Kelly, Sadie's character, insisted on meeting Mike, Owen's character, in real life.
Mike resisted at first. But faced with her insistence, he eventually gave in and gave her his location: a hospital in Santa Rosa, California.
That was where the story showed the real, elderly versions of the characters for the first time.
Kelly was a woman with terminal cancer who lived in a medical care facility and needed help from her nurse to move around. Even so, she decided to travel to meet Mike outside San Junipero.
Mike, meanwhile, was not the young man she had met in the simulated city. In the real world, he was an elderly man, paralyzed, connected to life support, unable to move, and kept alive by machines.
That was why, as Sadie had said, they didn't have a heavy load of scenes at the beginning of the day.
Their elderly versions would not be played by themselves.
Owen had made that decision during preproduction.
Aging makeup existed, of course, but convincingly turning actors in their early twenties into people in their seventies or eighties was complicated. It required heavy prosthetics, hours of makeup, constant touch-ups, and even then, there was still the risk of it looking artificial.
It was expensive, impractical, and could end up becoming internet meme material, so he decided to hire older actors.
For now, Owen and Sadie only had to observe very carefully.
Because even though those actors were playing the older versions of their characters, the emotional continuity still depended on all of them. What they had built in San Junipero had to feel connected to what the characters showed in the real world.
They couldn't feel like four different characters. They had to be the same people, separated by time, their bodies, and a simulated reality.
And Sadie had said that the beginning of the day would be calmer for a reason.
During the second half of the day, she and Owen had to film a much more emotional scene.
Mike wanted to stay in San Junipero permanently.
After becoming paraplegic at such a young age, he wanted to live a full life in San Junipero. He didn't want to spend only five hours there each week.
His plan was to undergo euthanasia so that his consciousness could be permanently uploaded into the system. That process was known as passing over.
But there was a problem.
Mike's family, because of their beliefs and their rejection of that still relatively new technology, had refused to sign the documents required to authorize the removal of his life support.
So Mike had found a practical solution.
He planned to marry Amy, his trusted nurse, so that she would legally become his next of kin and could authorize the euthanasia.
Kelly found out about it and asked him to marry her instead.
Amy was a good person. Kelly didn't doubt that. But if Mike was going to marry someone in order to make such a final decision, she wanted it to at least be someone with whom he shared a real connection. A romantic connection, even if it was recent.
He immediately agreed, and afterward, with Kelly now legally his wife, she authorized Mike's euthanasia.
Mike was extremely happy to complete his permanent transition to San Junipero, but he struggled with the frustration of Kelly only being able to visit him for five hours each week.
That was where the scene they would film that night came in.
It wouldn't be on the soundstages, but on a real beach in Malibu, during a kind of honeymoon following Mike's transition. He would still be wearing the suit he had gotten married in. Kelly would be wearing her white wedding dress.
The scene consisted of an argument.
Mike would ask her to permanently transition to San Junipero. To stay with him. To leave her sick body behind and accept an eternity together.
Kelly would refuse.
And in that refusal, she would tell him part of her past and explain why she didn't want to do it.
It was one of the most important and "difficult" scenes in the episode.
Building a beach inside a closed set would not have made sense. It would have required too much time and money.
Fortunately, Los Angeles had no shortage of beaches.
The production already had the permits, the transportation plan, and the equipment ready to move to Malibu once the daytime work on the soundstages was finished.
So the day began moving forward.
First, they filmed the scenes with the older actors.
Afterward, Owen and Sadie had a few simpler scenes inside the sets. Nothing too complicated. Transitional moments, brief shots, a few reactions, and dialogue needed to connect certain parts of the episode.
The work progressed without too many problems.
Until it was time to get ready for the beach.
In his trailer, Owen changed and put on the custom-made suit for the wedding. A dark tuxedo, a spotless shirt, a neatly adjusted bow tie, and freshly polished shoes.
Then makeup and hair came in, leaving his hair perfect and his skin free of imperfections.
When they finally finished, the crew left the trailer, and Owen was left alone in silence. Not absolute silence, because muffled sounds still came through the walls from outside.
He still had a few free minutes before he had to leave, so he picked up his phone.
He checked a few things on Instagram. The first thing he looked at was his follower count.
20.5 million.
The Oppenheimer vlog had gained enormous traction. Thanks to that, he had broken the twenty-million barrier, although the growth had now stabilized a little more.
It hadn't stopped. It had only slowed down.
That was how Instagram worked. If you uploaded posts, stories, interesting photos, or appeared at noteworthy events, the number kept moving. And if you were also part of outside conversations, like his YouTube videos, Good Will Hunting crushing it at the box office, or the constant news about his projects, people ended up searching for you anyway.
But Owen knew he couldn't disappear for too long.
He had to post something soon to keep his account active.
His last post had been a series of photos from the trip to New York with Jenna. Photos of the two of them, some at the hotel, others during the Oppenheimer premiere, and one with Robert Downey Jr. himself.
It wasn't a bad last post, but some time had already passed.
When filming on San Junipero ended that Saturday, he planned to upload a large number of photos he had been collecting during the production of the three Black Mirror episodes. Not only from this one, where he was acting, but also from the other shoots.
He had stopped by the set of White Bear whenever he had time, taking photos with the crew and with Chelsea, the lead actress. He had also visited the filming of Shut Up and Dance, where he took a few photos with Joe and part of the crew.
That could become a fairly good post.
Besides, on Saturday, once filming ended, both this episode and Shut Up and Dance would officially enter postproduction.
Shut Up and Dance had already finished filming the previous week, so it had a few days of head start.
Owen would have free time.
This time, he didn't plan to get too involved in the editing. He preferred to leave that work to the directors. He would keep an eye on things to make sure everything progressed as it should, but he didn't want to sit in an editing room telling them where to cut, which take to use, or which scene worked best, while being careful not to clash with the director's ego.
This time, he wouldn't deal with that.
With that free space in his schedule, he could return to several things he had put on hold. He planned to make the food sketches for Instagram, something simpler, faster, and easier to produce.
He also wanted to begin working on the new short film for Second Take Films.
Thinking about that led him to open YouTube. He went to his channel and looked at the subscriber count: 12,300,000.
Since his last video, which was already almost a month old, the channel had gained around seven hundred thousand subscribers.
That wasn't a small number. But there was one detail that bothered him a little: his latest short film was still Lights Out, uploaded almost a year ago.
Publishing a new one felt fairly urgent.
The next one would be Curve, just as he had already told Matt.
The deal with Curry Baker was already finalized. Owen had sent him the script, and over the last few weeks, Curry had been working on the shooting script and the production plan.
Owen had left that part to him for two reasons.
First, because he didn't have time to do everything on his own.
Second, because he wanted to see how he worked.
They had a meeting on Sunday. Curry had agreed to meet that day so they could start seriously discussing the production and, above all, think about the casting. There was only one actress, the lead.
All of that would keep his accounts active.
The Black Mirror photos, the food sketches, the new Second Take Films short, the Fantastic Fest vlog, and the worldwide release of Lights Out in October. If everything went well, the growth rate would not only continue, but could accelerate again.
Owen remained still for a few seconds, his phone in his hand.
'Am I becoming too obsessed with metrics?' he thought.
It was difficult to know at what point planning stopped being ambition and began turning into a constant need to never stop.
Owen never got to answer himself, because someone knocked on the trailer door.
He blinked, pulled out of his thoughts, and looked toward the entrance, "Come in," he said loudly.
The door opened, revealing Sadie.
She was already fully dressed for the wedding scene. She wore a white dress, a classic wedding gown, and her red hair stood out even more against the light fabric.
"Am I interrupting?"
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