Chapter 4: I Planned to Pay—Didn't Expect to Get It for Free
William nodded frankly.
"You guessed right. It really is an Adult Valley production."
Nancy: "..."
The sarcasm she had prepared died in her throat.
She looked William up and down, visibly unsettled.
This guy had a face fit for playing a superhero. He spoke like a serious headhunter—yet the option he was offering was the least respectable one imaginable.
"Well… it's not completely off the table,"
Nancy said, stepping forward almost against her better judgment. She crossed her arms and leaned against the car window, cheap perfume mixed with tobacco drifting into the cabin.
"So—what's the pay, Mr. Director?"
William rubbed his nose, looking faintly embarrassed, and held up three fingers.
"At the moment… I can offer you three hundred dollars a day."
"Holy crap!"
Nancy straightened as if she'd been stung by a scorpion, staring at him in disbelief.
"Can you get any cheaper?" she snapped.
"I make more than that in one night just shaking it a few times in there! Are you casting an actress, or handing out spare change to beggars?"
She scoffed at herself and turned, clearly ready to disappear into the darkness.
"Wait, Nancy! Don't go yet—at least hear me out."
William spoke up quickly.
Maybe it was the cold night air clearing her head.
Or maybe William's face really did have some unfair persuasive power.
Nancy stopped, turned back, and leaned against the window again, raising a brow impatiently.
"Fine. Since your face is at least easy on the eyes, I'll give you one minute."
William took a deep breath and leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening with focus.
"Nancy, listen. Three hundred dollars isn't much—
it might even be less than your tips from one night in this dump."
He held her eyes, his voice carrying an unmistakable, compelling certainty.
"But that money is only buying your time—not your future."
"What I want to ask is this," he continued calmly.
"Have you ever thought about what it could mean for you… if my film actually blows up?"
Nancy frowned.
She had heard this kind of empty promise more times than she could count—but something about William's confidence made her heart skip.
Lowering her voice, she shot back:
"What could it possibly mean?"
"Don't tell me you're going to get me an Oscar?"
William knew this line of work inside and out.
In his previous life, after years of grinding through the industry, he had seen countless unwritten rules invisible to ordinary people.
Across the Pacific, in that island nation to the east, even top-tier hostesses would willingly lower their rates to appear in this kind of film.
Their goal was never the meager paycheck.
It was gilding—using the raw visual impact of the screen to turn their name into a brand, driving up their value so they could reach a higher tier of patrons.
A roundabout path to success.
A marketing premium.
"Value."
William let the word fall.
"Value?"
Nancy stared at him, confusion flickering in her eyes.
"That's right," William said calmly.
"What this kind of film can give you is the chance to appreciate—completely."
He raised a hand and traced an invisible circle in the air, as if sketching a blueprint.
"Imagine this. If you became a household name—if every inch of you became a luxury item in the eyes of fans…"
He looked straight at her.
"Would people cross half of America just to see you in person?
And when that day comes, would you still be here, working yourself raw for thirty- or fifty-dollar tips?"
Some truths only needed the thinnest layer peeled away before reality came flooding out.
Nancy's breathing quickened slightly.
She had to admit it—William had struck her weakest point with surgical precision.
She was stuck.
In this business, foot traffic had already peaked. The people circling her night after night were the same low-level thugs.
To double her income, the only option was to become a named choice on the private lists of powerful men.
But the circle of the powerful was small—
and the competition was endless.
Without a label people could instantly remember, why would anyone who spent money like water remember her?
Looking into William's confident eyes, Nancy felt her resolve waver.
Her heart raced—but years on the street kept her from losing her head completely.
"Sounds nice," she said cautiously.
"But how do I know you're not just selling me a dream?"
She leaned in, eyes sharp and probing.
"The San Fernando Valley is full of companies shooting this kind of stuff. Hundreds—thousands—of girls grind away there every day.
"What makes you think your film will hit?
And why should I believe this isn't just a waste of my time?"
She'd gone straight for the core.
William couldn't exactly tell her the truth—that he'd come back from the future, armed with decades-ahead camera language, psychological pacing, and editing control.
Compared to the stiff performances and hollow smiles dominating the market, what he carried was a dimensional advantage.
But since he couldn't explain it, he chose the most primitive—and most effective—solution.
Money.
Or more precisely, a wager.
"How about this, Nancy. Let's make a bet."
His long fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, his tone calm to the point of being unsettling.
"If the film takes off, you treat that initial pay as all I ever owed you. We both win.
"But if it flops, I'll compensate you at two thousand dollars per day, retroactively. I'll make up the difference."
He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"No matter how this ends, you don't lose."
"Two thousand dollars… per day?"
Nancy rolled the number over in her mind, the streetwise calculation in her eyes shattering under its weight.
Even top performers in Adult Valley didn't command that kind of guaranteed rate.
That floor alone was enough to drive anyone crazy.
If it worked—she'd be a future star.
If it didn't—she'd still walk away with serious money.
She studied William's face, searching for any hint of deception—but found only a confidence bordering on madness.
Finally, she took a deep breath. The tension left her shoulders, replaced by a professional, practiced smile.
"Looks like I really did run into a generous lunatic tonight."
She extended a hand.
"Deal, Director."
In her mind, Nancy was already calculating.
Even if this handsome director failed, the guaranteed payout would fund months of beachside leisure.
And at worst—
having a completed film under her name was still an entry ticket into the Adult Valley circuit.
A professional credit.
By every metric, it was a winning deal.
"Well then," she added lightly,
"since your face really is easy on the eyes—I'm in."
She pulled a card from her bag—one of those perfume-scented contact cards she used at the club—and slipped it neatly into William's shirt pocket.
Leaning in close, her tone turned teasing.
"That's how to reach me. Call before we start shooting.
"And now, Director—here's your chance to show some gentlemanly manners.
"Take me home."
At those words, the tension knotted in William's chest finally eased.
He smiled—the most relaxed he'd been all night—and reached over to open the passenger door.
"With pleasure."
The engine roared to life, headlights cutting through the thick night haze of the alley.
As Nancy got in, her heavy perfume filled the car, replacing the stale air instantly.
William guided the steering wheel smoothly, his mind already running through scenes frame by frame.
For now, the most difficult piece—the female lead—was secured.
Next, all he needed was a location, and a male actor with both the physique and acting chops to match.
And then—
An Adult Valley film that would upend an entire era
would officially begin rolling cameras.