"Ms. Schaffer will see you now," Claudia's assistant said, gesturing toward the office with a no-nonsense look in her eyes.
I rose from my seat in the waiting area and walked toward Claudia's corner office, enclosed by a massive glass wall that gave the place a very professional and chic vibe. I remembered having a similar office during my days working for a big firm in my first life. Times were different now, of course, but the atmosphere was exactly the same. The only real difference now was the technology, or lack thereof.
"Noah!" Claudia rose from behind her desk and crossed the room quickly, her sharp heels tapping against the tiled floor. She extended her hand to me brightly. "I knew you would accept my offer. Come on, take a seat. Let's talk."
Instead of directing me to the stiff chair in front of her desk, she motioned toward the leather couch in the far corner of the room. I sat down as she joined me, her posture both relaxed and commanding.
"Before we begin," I said, wanting to make some things clear before I accepted her offer, "I want to ask a few things."
"Sure, go ahead."
"I don't want to remain just an actor," I said, my voice steady. "I know I'm new to the industry and I've only worked in one film, but I want to move behind the camera too. Randal Kleiser, the director of The Blue Lagoon, let me handle a few scenes, and I loved every moment of it."
Claudia leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with interest. "Do you know why I want to take you on as a client, while I usually hand newcomers like you over to junior agents?"
I shook my head.
"Because you sold a script to Columbia," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "That's unheard of in this industry for someone just starting out, especially at your age." She leaned back against the couch, and for the first time, a grin softened her usually stern features. "After I left your place yesterday, I asked around. I was pleasantly surprised to find out you already have a four-year first-look deal with Columbia for your scripts."
She was good. That deal hadn't been advertised much, since no one really knew me yet, and it wasn't groundbreaking on its own. For her to track it down so quickly showed me just how strong her connections were.
"Do you know what kind of people succeed in Hollywood?" she asked rhetorically. "The tenacious ones. The ones who refuse to settle. People who give up halfway never become superstars. In you, I see the kind of persistence it takes to rise to the top. So, I'm glad you don't want to remain just an actor. Work with me, and I'll help you take your career to the stars and beyond."
She spoke with such passion and conviction that I believed she meant every word.
"Okay," I said with a nod. "Let's do it."
Claudia smiled, a quick flash of triumph across her face, before standing and moving to her desk. She retrieved a bound folder, holding it with the air of someone who already knew the outcome of this meeting.
"Here." She handed me the folder with a deliberate gesture. "This is the script of the film I mentioned. It's a derivative work of Halloween, and I have a feeling it will be just as impactful, if not more. The budget is shoestring, and they won't pay you a cent above the minimum SAG rates. I've already spoken to the director about you. Official auditions are scheduled for tomorrow, but if you go to his place today, he'll cast you on the spot. The address is on the second page."
"Just like that?" I asked, unable to mask my confusion.
"Yes, just like that. They need a good-looking face who will meet a gruesome end on screen. The fact that Columbia is launching you next year with heavy publicity for one of their summer releases makes it very appealing for them. Casting you gives them free promotion."
Her reasoning made sense, and it all sounded plausible enough, except for one detail.
"I'm new to this world," I admitted, "so maybe I don't understand how things work. But shouldn't you have me sign with you as a client before literally handing me a role?"
For the briefest instant, Claudia's expression flickered into something unrecognizable. It was gone so quickly that if I hadn't been watching closely, I would have missed it.
"You're right," she said with a nod, her composure returning. "That is the usual practice. But I handle things differently. I don't usually deal with jobs that only pay SAG minimums; they're not worth my time. I'm offering you this as a gesture of goodwill, to show you I can deliver opportunities. Consider this one on the house. When you've finished filming and still want me as your agent, then we'll talk about my terms."
Something about that didn't add up. From a business perspective, it made no sense at all. If she really wanted me, why not lock me down right now, when I was eager and in need of representation?
"Why?" I asked, letting the question hang in the air. I didn't want to spell out my suspicion. Sometimes, keeping your words vague invites a more honest answer.
Claudia looked away, her jaw tightening. For a moment, she seemed almost reluctant. "Do this job, if you like the script," she said quietly, "and then I'll tell you. Is that fair?"
There was something she wasn't ready to share. I could sense it. But her offer didn't carry any risk for me. I needed experience on film sets, and a low-budget slasher would still expand my credits. Since I wasn't her client, she wouldn't be negotiating my contract, but for a simple SAG job, I could handle that myself and avoid paying a lawyer.
"Alright," I said at last, lifting the folder. "I'll see you after this."
She only gave a short nod in response.
I left her office soon after, and the moment I was in the hallway, I flipped the folder open, curiosity getting the better of me.
The title page stared back at me.
That was when I knew I had to do this film because it was one of the classics.
Friday the 13th.
(Break)
I drove out to the address listed in the Friday the 13th script, a weathered old house sitting on the outskirts of New York City. The place looked like it had seen better decades. Layers of paint peeled from the walls, and the front yard was choked with weeds and wild grass. For a moment, I wondered if I had the wrong place. According to the script, the director was also producing the film with his own money. If he could finance a movie, why would he be living in a house that looked like it was one stiff breeze away from collapsing?
Still, even if this wasn't the right address, whoever lived inside could point me in the right direction.
I walked up the creaking steps and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, the door cracked open, still secured by a chain.
"Yes?" a man asked from the other side.
"I'm looking for Sean Cunningham. Do you know where I can find him?"
"This is him. What do you need?"
His blunt reply caught me off guard, though I kept my expression neutral.
"Claudia Schaffer sent me to meet you, sir. About a role."
That did the trick. He shut the door just long enough to undo the latch, and when it swung open again, his demeanor had softened.
"You should have started with that," he said with a genial smile. "Come on in."
Sean looked to be in his late thirties, with neatly combed dark hair and a well-groomed French beard that contrasted sharply with the neglected state of his home. Inside, the impression didn't improve much. The furniture sagged with age, the walls were stained and peeling, and every corner of the place carried the weight of years without care.
"You must be Noah," Sean said, handing me a glass of water before I even asked.
"Yes, sir." I accepted it politely and took a few sips.
"Good, good. You'll do." He settled into a worn armchair across from me. "Claudia told me about your debut with Columbia. What kind of film is that?"
Straightforward and businesslike. I liked that.
"Have you read The Blue Lagoon? Or maybe seen the older film version? It's a remake."
He nodded thoughtfully. "I've read the book. So you must have done plenty of underwater scenes?"
"I have," I said. "I'm also a national-level swimmer, so being in the water isn't a problem for me."
That seemed to please him.
"Good, good. In that case, I want you for the role of Jack."
I frowned slightly, trying to place the name. It had been literal decades since I'd last seen Friday the 13th in my previous life, and the character names were fuzzy. I could recall the story beats, but not who was who. Just like with Risky Business, where I'd used some new names when rewriting it because I couldn't recall all of them verbatim.
"I'm afraid I haven't read the script yet," I admitted. "Could you tell me something about the character?"
"Definitely." Sean's grin widened. "Jack is the ladies' man. Very likable, very handsome. The one everyone notices first. From the looks of you, that part won't be difficult. You've got the physique for it." His eyes lingered a moment before he added, almost casually, "You won't have a problem with a few sex scenes, will you?"
"Is it necessary for the script?" I asked carefully. "I mean, I already had a few of those in my debut film, and I don't want to be known only for that."
"That's how you sell tickets, kid," Sean said with absolute confidence. "And yes, it's necessary. My writer and I decided early on that Jack would get the best death in the movie, which is during sex. Every man in the world would want to go out that way, including me. Just imagine your headstone reading: He died fucking."
We both laughed, and in the moment, it felt lighthearted. But as the chuckles faded, a heavier thought lingered in my mind. Did I really want to be typecast like Richard Gere, known only for romantic and erotic roles? The 70s and 80s thrived on nudity and sex to sell tickets, and as a teenager, I had loved those films for exactly that reason. But now, when I was on the other side of the screen, being asked to carry that label myself felt weird.
"You seem conflicted," Sean observed, leaning back in his chair. "Is it the sex part?"
"Yes," I admitted. "I'm not sure about it anymore."
He leaned forward, resting a firm hand on my shoulder. His voice softened, almost persuasive. "You'll be great in this film. But I need one thing from my actors: total commitment. Remember, for an actor, the character is everything. You lose yourself in it. When we shoot those scenes, I'll make it easy for you. Minimal people on set. You won't have to worry about anything. If you decline, I won't have a choice but to go with someone else."
The more I thought about it, the clearer it became that my personal preferences didn't matter as much right now. The film itself might not have been to my taste, but it was a massive hit in my other life, one that spawned an entire franchise. Being part of it could only help my career. Even if I turned this down, once The Blue Lagoon and Risky Business released, I would probably still be offered roles leaning toward the risqué. As much as I wanted to write and star in all my own films, I knew that wasn't realistic. Movies took months, sometimes years, to move from script to set. Inevitably, I would have to take jobs from other filmmakers.
And if I were being asked to compromise, then Sean could meet me halfway, too.
"I'll agree to do the film on your terms," I said firmly, "but I have one condition."
Sean's lips curved into a smile. "And what's that?"
"I am a budding filmmaker. I shot some scenes during The Blue Lagoon as well, and I want to continue doing it in this film as well. So, I would appreciate it a lot if you could hire me as your assistant. And if I prove myself capable enough, let me direct a few scenes."
Sean's smile faded as he mulled over my proposal. He scratched his chin, staring at me for nearly a full minute before finally speaking.
"I'll do you one better. In addition to being my assistant during filming, I'll let you sit in on post-production too, but only if you're willing to keep working at the same salary as an actor."
So that was his play. Under the guise of offering me experience, he was essentially trying to rope me into becoming his unpaid assistant.
"But if I don't find your work as an assistant useful," he added without hesitation, "you won't be shooting anything. Is that acceptable?"
"It is," I said, and we sealed the deal with a handshake.
I may have directed a few scenes during The Blue Lagoon, but post-production was foreign territory to me. It hadn't even crossed my mind until now how essential that phase was. Any director worth the title needed to understand it before attempting to helm a full film.
"So," I asked after a pause, "when do we finalize the paperwork?"
"I'll send everything to Claudia tomorrow for you to sign."
I shook my head. "Claudia isn't my agent. Not yet, at least. I'm handling things on my own for now, so send the papers directly to my home."
"Alright," Sean agreed easily. His eyes drifted toward the script I had tucked under my arm. "By the way, don't bother memorizing lines from that copy. Talking with you just now gave me an idea. I want to run it by my screenwriter, so there may be some major changes before we start shooting."
I nodded. Whatever revisions he planned, they couldn't stray too far from the original version I remembered from my other life.
(Break)
"You won't believe the young man I just finalized for Jack," Sean announced as he sat across from Victor Miller, the screenwriter of Friday the 13th. His voice was practically buzzing with excitement.
Victor sighed, sliding off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "How would I know, Sean? I've been buried in my own project all day."
"Forget about that for a moment," Sean pressed, leaning forward. "I've got a great idea to revamp the story. It's so good I had to come over today itself."
Victor's expression soured. "Sean, it's not supposed to be a great film. It's a cash grab for both of us. That's why we're not hiring name actors. Keep it simple. If you put too much thought into it, it'll get messy."
"That's the thing!" Sean exclaimed, leaning forward in his chair. His eyes shone with excitement. "I didn't go looking for someone great, but someone great landed right in my lap. And the best part is that he's willing to work at scale. I met this kid, Noah, eighteen years old, absolutely perfect to play any role in the film. But what really stood out were his looks and personality. He has that natural sex appeal that would make women go weak in the knees just by looking at him. I'm not gay, and even I felt something for him. He's that handsome. And when he speaks, he's so charismatic that you cannot help but listen. I don't even know if he's a good actor, but Columbia already signed him for a three-picture deal, so he can't be terrible. If we promote him right, he could be the one who draws the female audience to the theaters."
Sean's reasoning had weight. Horror-slasher films often alienated young women, who had little interest in watching a helpless girl shriek her way through the runtime. But if there was a striking male presence to balance things out, the movie could appeal to everyone.
"He is meant to die within the first half of the movie," Victor remarked dryly, adjusting his glasses.
"Exactly!" Sean shot back, his voice quick with excitement. "But what if we make him the last one killed before Alice? And to justify why he survives that long, we turn him into a ladies' man. Picture this: there are three boys and three girls in the camp. He has one girlfriend, but he wants the other two as well. So he seduces them behind their boyfriends' backs, and right after he's done with them, the girls are murdered. Brenda and Marcie die that way, right after having sex with him. Then, when Jack is finally with Alice, he's killed in the middle of the act. The shock of it traumatizes Alice even more and makes her desperate escape far more dramatic and unforgettable."
Victor sat back in silence, his expression shifting. At first, his face was tight with reluctance, but as the idea settled, his eyes widened with recognition.
"That's… genius," he whispered. "It ties in perfectly with the theme and with why Voorhees targets the counselors. And the best part is, it won't even require a full rewrite. We can rearrange some scenes, make a few adjustments, and it will work. I can finish it within a few days."
This was exactly what Sean admired about Victor: his ability to adapt quickly and his unshakable passion for storytelling.
______________________________
AN: Read up to 40 advanced chapters on my website, or check out my other story, Dreams of Stardom.
Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com