[Owen POV]
After an 18 hour nap, I auditioned for a speaking role for Circuit City– The Law and Order counterpart– like the receptionist Sloane suggested. I didn't get the part although I nailed it– it went to a pretty famous child actor instead.
The role had two lines, but the writers expanded his lines to eight, which meant a screen credit and a bigger paycheck.
It wasn't all bad. I still got a background part in the same episode—playing with the golden boy right before he got kidnapped.
'That's showbiz baby. Get snubbed, then still end up in the same scene.'
"You're honestly pretty good. You're even more good looking than him." The thin, balding male casting director told me with an awkward expression. "But we're going with him since he has better recognition."
"It's fine. You don't have to explain. I get it." I said casually.
The man smiled and said, "You know what? It's honestly a waste to let you go like this. What about you auditioning for the next episode? This sort of thing doesn't happen very often."
He was referring to an established child actor swooping into the production. I almost agreed before sucking in my teeth and said, "Sorry. I can't for a couple of months."
"Huh? Why?" The casting director was confused.
"I have already signed on for a movie. So I'll have to go to Philadelphia for the shoots."
"What?! Oh my god, congratulations. Is it a small part or a big part?" He asked.
"Pretty small. It's an indie movie." I made a little fib there.
I didn't want to grab some unwanted attention inside the casting office. The industry is full of snakes after all. Who knew if someone tried to snub the role once again.
As soon as I mentioned the indie project, the director lost some enthusiasm.
"Well… Break a leg." he said before walking away. He whispered to himself but I could hear him with my sensitive ears, "Hopefully the kid won't act up again."
The same day, I picked up a job as an extra in a sitcom. I was supposed to be 'the kid who flew a kite'. It paid 100 bucks per day, with no actual credit in the tv series.
I saw firsthand how the sitcom was shot. It was for a pilot episode, so I didn't recognize any of the actors. They shot it in front of a live audience– theater style, with jokes delivered every couple of lines.
The actors didn't even look at the extras. After I was done with my part, I was ushered out of the soundstage.
The next day, I played with a kid who drowned at sea. They pulled my body out of the ocean. I was wet all over, and they paid me 100 bucks for 2 hours of work. Honestly? It wasn't worth it.
"I should stop now. Being an extra isn't really that helpful for me."
The competition, even as an extra, was incredibly competitive. I had the advantage since I was a kid's extra, but for the adults, I saw deep worrying lines on their faces as they were hoping to get the role.
'No wonder demons are a normal thing here. There is a lot of negative energy swirling in this entire town.' I thought to myself.
After the audition, I went to Jessica and Lenny's apartment since they called me. Micheal drove me as usual, and I was thinking of hiring him as my manager instead.
He was quite helpful in driving me around, and also, he sucked at managing the ice-cream shop. He had no formal education after all. I forced him to take night classes for now and study to get his GED.
Pre-production for the movie would take at least one week. Then, all of us would fly to Philadelphia. That was actually pretty fast for movie preparation.
I think George was banking on my dreamscape to finalize the movie and shorten the pre-production time. It was honestly a good idea– if he wasn't paying me for a session, with my own money.
He paid himself a 250,000 dollars directing fee for the project. He bought the script from Jessica for 200,000 dollars. Each of them paid me 100,000 dollars to get into the dreamscape.
Once I signed the contract, I would be paid 300,000 dollars for the role. But I negotiated with them and took only 10,000 dollars, with an additional 5% profit stake.
It felt weird since I was the one who invested in the movie, and now I had to pay myself with my own money, so I decided to take a low payment instead.
The director and writer misunderstood me as having confidence in the movie, which made them feel touched. So touched that George wanted me to come along to watch the aunt's role audition.
I knocked on the door to the apartment, but no one answered. Then, I found the door unlocked.
"That's weird." I entered the house slowly and saw George, Lenny, and Jessica sitting at the living room table, staring at the bottle of ginseng wine inside its wooden box packaging.
"What are you guys doing not answering the door?" I asked carefully.
They looked up at me and then smiled. Jessica said, "Oh, Owen. You're here. We didn't hear you—come in." She didn't move, a namecard in her hand.
"We're just looking at a really great gift; we didn't realize you were here," Lenny added.
"A really great gift indeed," George agreed.
"What is that?" I asked.
But no one could answer me. They just repeated the 'great gift' part again.
George added, "I don't think Victor D'Ambré would pay any attention to my work. I feel so proud right now."
"Yeah, he's a trustworthy dude," Lenny agreed with George while Jessica nodded along.
"Victor D'Ambré? Who is he?" I asked casually. The three of them flinched.
Jessica muttered, "Wait. Who is he again?"
"You know… that guy?" George also couldn't answer.
Lenny actually knew about him. "He's the CEO of Aureum Pictures. You know them. They released Die Hard, Seven, 12 Monkeys—they released hits after hits after hits."
"Ah… them!" George finally remembered.
George added again, "I don't think Victor D'Ambré would pay any attention to my work. I feel so proud right now."
"Yeah, he's a trustworthy dude," Lenny repeated while Jessica nodded along. They were repeating themselves.
"Hmm?" I noticed something wrong and slowly took out a talisman from my wallet.
"Dispel." I said as I threw the talisman onto the wine. A black smog suddenly appeared and was sucked into the talisman before the paper talisman caught fire.
Everyone snapped out of their haze. George turned to me in shock and asked, "What happened?"
"Wait. Who is Victor D'Ambré?" Jessica finally read the card in her hand properly.
I shrugged and said casually, "I don't know. But I don't think you want to get close to him."
Everyone went silent for a bit. I walked to the wine and checked on it. My eyes lit up as I noticed the pure energy inside the bottle. It would be very beneficial to my cultivation, maybe even let me break through several levels.
I licked my lips greedily and said, "George. Sell this to me."
"What–H-Hold on a sec. Owen, what just happened?"
"Are we being targeted again?" Lenny asked.
"Should we be worried?" Jessica grimaced.
I sighed and replied after letting them calm down. "No. You should not. This is a pretty normal spell, you know? A charm spell. However, the energy… I guess it's a demon, but I don't think you should be worried."
"Why? What's the basis of that? What made you confident we shouldn't be worried?" George asked, frustrated, his face turning paler by the minute.
I shrugged and said, "Usually, the charm spell is used to lure baits into the demon. You were not baited, right?"
"But he could still target us." Jessica spat out.
In my past life, I saw this type of demon before.
"Based on my knowledge, it's probably a greedy demon. You know, born from human greed. And this type of demon is so greedy that it won't leave his business place, not one step away."
"Huh? Why?" Jessica was confused.
I smirked and said, "Cause, if he left, then he might lose an opportunity to get more money. So he's never going to leave, and he won't bother you too, since his method didn't work and he already suffered a massive loss."
I laughed slightly as I picked up the wine bottle and eyed it greedily. "George, I'm asking again. Sell this to me."
"If you want it so much, just take it. I don't feel good with that thing laying around in my apartment." He shuddered as he rejected the wine bottle.
"George–Wait." Lenny suddenly leaned forward and asked, "Owen. What is the value of that thing?"
I thought about it and said, "For you guys? Maybe around 1,000 bucks."
Lenny sighed in disappointment while Jessica and George laughed at him.
I suddenly added, "For me? I might give you three dreamscape sessions for free if I could get them."
"Wait. 300 thousand?" George was astonished.
"So, we don't have to pay?" Jessica was a bit excited for tonight's dreamscape session.
"Well, George gave it to me for free though. So I'm still charging it." I replied, which stunned everyone.
"So, why did you call me here?" I asked, changing the subject while putting the wine into my satchel. Jessica and Lenny were hitting George relentlessly and finally stopped when met with the question.
"Oh. Right." Jessica suddenly remembered. "Jack Kennedy!" She raised her voice, her gaze sharp and angry.
My heart dropped. "W-what?" I asked, playing dumb.
"My nephew, Jack Kennedy!" She said again. I didn't react.
Then she added, "He's the CEO of the VC Investment Fund! My missing nephew is the one who's investing in this movie!"
I breathed in relief secretly. Jessica went on and on about her nephew—who was standing in front of her—and how rude he was because he didn't come to meet her after putting her name as his guardian.
"I don't know what happened between Jack and my sister, but I didn't do anything to him. He could've at least shown his face to me."
"Well, maybe he did. But you have already moved out from your house, so he didn't bother to find your current address." George tried to comfort her, but it backfired.
She punched his arm hard.
"Ow." George winced.
"Jess, maybe this is his way of apologizing to you. You know, he gave us a very great deal in the contract." Lenny rubbed her back, slowly melting away her anger.
"Yeah, 70-30 split, and we don't even have to use our own money. I thought it was suspicious at first since he didn't even hold the IP, but now it makes sense." George said while rubbing his sore arm.
For an independent production company like George's, if they didn't come up with the production budget and it was handled by the others, it was hard for them to even get near their own IP. Also, getting 10% of the profit was good enough.
Usually, they would get 5–15% depending on the prestige of the production company. Getting 30% in one go was a deal that could shake the entire Tinseltown.
"What do you think, Owen?" Jessica looked at me.
I just shrugged at her. She pursed her lips and then relented. "Fine."
George and Lenny brightened up. They didn't want to stop producing the movie, but if Jessica didn't feel comfortable, they would return the money back to me. Well, to 'Jack Kennedy'.
"Owen, I think you should meet Jack." Jessica suddenly requested. "You know, he's in a coma too. For a week, I think. What if a demon took over his body, like the ones who tried to take over Sarah's body?"
I was stunned for a bit before looking at her with a deadpan expression. "It's highly unlikely for that to happen."
"Really? Will the possession take months?" Jessica asked, slightly relieved.
I blurted out, "No. If they came to an agreement, they could just merge together. So it can even take a few minutes for the–Wait, in this case, maybe not. I don't think your nephew had merged with a demon."
Her face became paler as I continued, which led me to stop explaining and comforting her instead.
"I need to meet him." Jessica said with determination.
I sighed, knowing the future troubles in store.
On a second note, Jessica's children's book had been mentioned on Good Morning America, and it was a New York Times Bestseller.
It had sold over 300,000 units in just two weeks, with bookstores and libraries scrambling to increase their orders.
The gothic fairy-tale style artwork was attracting attention from critics and fellow artists alike, and the book was being recommended everywhere.
Several artists praised the way the illustrations and story complemented each other—how the shadows, intricate details, and whimsical yet haunting designs enhanced the narrative rather than overshadowing it.
They analyzed the use of color, perspective, and composition, noting that each page carried its own emotional weight while maintaining cohesion with the overall plot.
The artists were doing the standard artist thing by overanalyzing it, but it worked in my favor so I wasn't going to hate it.
Jessica was receiving invitations to appear on Good Morning America and The Oprah Winfrey Show too.
Some authors had also reached out to me through her, wanting me to illustrate for their next books—but I declined, knowing I would be busy with the movie.
Our collaboration worked because we shared a connection through the dreamscape, something impossible to replicate with others.
By the time the first check arrived—about two months out—the publishing company projected 500,000 units sold. With the initial retail price at $18 and standard royalties of roughly 15%, Jessica would have been looking at $1,350,000 for her first check. 1.3 million after minusing 50,000 from the advance payment.
However, due to overwhelming demand and media buzz, the publisher raised the price to $20 per copy for remaining stock.
At that price, the total projected royalties would climb to $1,500,000, and since she split royalties 50-50 with me, both of us could expect around $750,000 each from just the first wave of sales.
"Babe, please don't divorce me after you become rich," Lenny joked while touching his balding head.
Jessica teased, "No, munchkin. I'm not going to do that. But if you're going to be a trophy husband, you better lose that 20 pounds earlier."
"I'm working on it as hard as I can." Lenny played along with the joke. He did have a nice body before the demonic possession. Jessica too—she was a swimsuit model once. Both of them were trying hard to get back to their earlier state.
"Speaking of bodies," I remembered something and took out a small bottle from my satchel.
Jessica and Lenny both turned their eyes on the white, creamy lotion with the golden cap.
"What's that?" Jessica asked, curious.
I handed it to her and explained, "I saw you were worried about your skin spots a few weeks ago. This is something my lab is cooking up. It works great for the skin and has anti-aging properties, so you'll feel like you're getting your skin back from when you were in your 20s."
I lied a bit there. This was ordinary skin cream in the cultivation world I recreated here using spiritual herbs. In my lab, they were working hard to reverse-engineer this lotion so that I could sell the formula to a cosmetic brand later on.
"You have a lab?" Lenny was shocked. Jessica, however, was genuinely touched.
"Wait—you listened and then made this for me? You're a very nice kid, Owen."
She hugged me softly, resting her cheek on my head. Then she turned to Lenny and said, "Baby, let's adopt him as our son. Maya can have a brother."
"I agree," Lenny said without hesitation.
"I don't," I brushed her off, then added, "Use it for about a week before going to sleep. You'll start seeing results in two or three days. Keep it a secret for now—don't tell anyone where you got the lotion, even if they beg you."
Jessica nodded eagerly. Lenny, a bit dissatisfied, asked, "Only for her? What about my skin?"
"Your skin is not important," Jessica admonished him, pulling the lotion bottle from his reach and hugging it protectively. "This is mine alone, okay?! If you dare use it, I'm going to shave off the rest of your hair while you sleep."
"Ah!" Lenny gasped, offended by yet another jab at his hair. He turned to me with pitiful eyes. "Owen, do you have something for hair growth too?"
"I don't have any medication for that," I replied, watching his expression fall. "I do, however, know a ritual for it—a witch's ritual."
Both Jessica and Lenny's eyes lit up. Jessica—for the chance to explore the supernatural further. Lenny—for the hair.
"What? What's the ritual?" Lenny asked urgently.
"It's simple. You want hair, right? So, you take it from others."
"Like a hair transplant?" Lenny's expression shifted to mild horror. "Or do you mean taking their whole scalp and planting it on my head?"
I shook my head. "No. It's actually a revenge ritual used by a slighted woman—though it can be repurposed for hair growth. The effect is that the ex-boyfriend's or ex-husband's hair falls out, but instead of destroying it, the witch transfers it to another man she deems worthy."
I had learned the ritual during my coven days—back when I was a female witch.
"But the thing is, only women can perform it," I added before Lenny could jump to conclusions.
He deflated. "Then why tell me about it? Unless—" His eyes lit up again. "You know a witch?"
"I don't. But I do know someone with the potential to become one," I replied with a smirk.
…
That night, I drank some wine and began my cultivation. With just one cup, I broke through to the third level—vein cleansing.
Black impurities seeped out from my skin. Thankfully, I was meditating on the cold shower floor so it could all be cleaned away easily.
As the realm cleansed my blood, the entire shower floor looked like a murder scene.
I had already asked Elena to run the shower over me periodically during the breakthrough so the blood wouldn't harden and become harder to scrub later.
Even though she'd been warned, seeing it with her own eyes was still terrifying for her.
It was around 11 p.m. the next day when I came out of my meditative state. When I opened my eyes, I saw Michael pacing nervously in front of the shower door, pale with worry.
"Why are you so restless?" I asked as I stepped out of the shower, removing my underwear and wrapping myself in a bathrobe. There was blood in the underwear, so I just tossed it away.
"God—" Michael looked startled. "I think we can still make it!" He checked his watch anxiously.
"Make it?" I asked, confused.
He stared at me in disbelief. "Your acting job! You need to be there by noon—it's already 11:15!"
I widened my eyes and immediately dashed to the bedroom. Elena handed me some food, packing it in a lunchbox, and I ate it in the minivan.
"Can you seriously not eat fries or put seasoning on your food, like… ever?" Michael asked as he watched me eat the salad, boiled egg, boiled chicken breast, and boiled potatoes Elena had prepared. She'd also packed cherry tomatoes and two apples.
"I can—after the foundation is built," I replied.
Once I got past the foundation realm and entered the spirit realm, I could eat whatever I wanted.
We arrived five minutes late and found the director furiously yelling at the casting crew.
"Where the hell is he?!" the director roared.
"Is it you?" Michael whispered to me.
I sighed. "I'm not important enough for him to be mad like this."
The staff member in charge of the extras—Background Casting Coordinator—spotted me and hurried over.
"Owen Chase, right? Don't let the director see you right now unless you want to get yelled at too. He's furious because the child actor still hasn't shown up." The woman hurriedly pulled me away from the director's sight.
"He didn't show up? Where did he go?" Micheal asked curiously.
The casting coordinator saw him and blushed a bit—he was tall and good-looking. I had taught him some Knight's training three weeks ago to help him manage his rage better, and his body had become lean and muscular. Not to mention, he was wearing tight clothes at this time.
"Are you an actor too?" the casting director asked him.
"No, I'm his manager." He pointed at me.
"Manager? For an extra?" The woman looked confused.
"He actually completed one movie and got cast in another. But it's not coming out until October, so right now, he's just getting rudimentary experience for the acting job," Micheal said with a soft smile, almost bragging about me.
I looked at him with disbelief. "You're so talkative around pretty women."
The casting director, who was in her late 20s, blushed a bit.
"What's your name?" Micheal asked her, introducing himself.
"A—Anyway. We're going to wait for him right now, so you should wait with the other extras. We will call you when it's time," Hannah said, giving Micheal her number.
The excuse was that she could call him with potential work for me since she knew several other casting coordinators, but I was pretty sure they would hook up together.
"How long will that be? He has another schedule tonight to test chemistry with potential mothers in his movie," Micheal asked, looking somewhat impatient.
Since he was a social butterfly, it was easy for Micheal to network once his rage issue settled. Give him math, and his brain would explode. But he was good at the manager role.
Hannah looked empathetic. "I don't know. It might be postponed for hours. It depends on the director's patience, to be honest."
"I don't think he has much patience," I replied, seeing him shouting at the child actor's agent from afar.
A thin man with glasses walked toward us and said to Hannah, "I think we can wrap it up—Who's this tall glass of sugar?" His eyes immediately lit up as he saw Micheal.
"Angelo, this is Micheal, a manager."
"Manager?" He glanced at me, then immediately said, "Oh. You're the talent—Wait, why is Orwits coming here?" Angelo became alarmed when he saw the casting director I met yesterday rushing toward us.
Suddenly, the casting director held my hand and pulled me along. "Come with me."
Everyone was confused by the sudden turn of events. The casting director brought me to the director, who looked at me like a predator eyeing its prey.
"Who's this one?" he asked in a cold tone.
The casting director huffed. "He's an extra, but he's very good. He even got a role in an indie movie—they're shooting it next week."
"Oh." The director raised an eyebrow, slightly intrigued. He crouched slightly and asked, "Kid, the guy who was supposed to be here today decided it would be best for him to fly to Bora Bora with his girlfriend. So I'm kicking him out of this episode. Can you take his role and not disappoint me like he did?"
I sighed inwardly and said casually on the surface, "Sure. Just give me the lines and tell me what you want."
"Great. I like your confidence!" He handed me the script for the role.
The thin script read: The Kidnapped Kid – Arthur Fletcher.
(Be sure to check out my patr.eon. There's up to chapter 29 there.
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