"You look a little worried," I said to Adrienne while we waited for the crew to finish setting up the next scene. "You weren't even this tense when we shot the sex scene."
I'd already wrapped my part of the sequence after my dramatic death, but Adrienne still had hours to go. She was naked and drenched in sticky red paint that clung to her skin like dried syrup. I figured a joke might lighten the mood. It was apparently the wrong choice.
Adrienne shot me a glare. "Of course I'm fucking worried. Running around the set naked for hours while covered in fake blood might be a turn on for you, but it's not for me. And unlike our sex scene, this one can't even be a closed set. It's outdoors and needs a ton of background action. I don't have to be a genius to see those pervs leering at me from across the set."
I grimaced and followed her gaze. A few crew members who clearly didn't have anything better to do were staring right at us, not even pretending otherwise.
Assholes.
"Hey!" I called out. "If you guys have no work, go grab all the big fans from storage."
One of them asked, "How many do you need?"
"All of them," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Once they scattered, Adrienne turned back to me. "Do we even need fans in this scene?"
I grinned. "Not really."
She let out a soft laugh and leaned closer. "Thanks, Noah."
I shook my head. "Don't thank me yet. I'll fix this. Just let me think."
I scanned the set, searching for anything that could help her feel less exposed. The night air was cool, the tall cabin loomed behind us, and lights from the rigs cast long shadows across the grass. Then my eyes landed on a clothesline strung a few feet away.
"I got it," I said, stepping away. "I'll be back in a bit."
A minute later, I returned with a bedsheet in hand and Sean trailing right behind me.
"So what's this amazing idea you've got?" Sean asked.
"Adrienne's not comfortable shooting the scene like this," I said. "So I figured we could hang this sheet on the clothesline like it's drying. She runs into it, gets tangled, then wraps it around herself before continuing. Later, instead of hiding in the pantry, she ducks into the wardrobe and throws on a dress before the killer shows up. Problem solved."
Sean stared at me for a moment. "That's so unnecessary." He turned to Adrienne. "Listen, after this scene, you'll be a legend. People everywhere will remember how you fought your worst nightmare in such a vulnerable situation."
"No," Adrienne said instantly. "You got me to sign this film by promising I wouldn't have any nudity. Then you rewrote the whole thing and told me you'd fire me if I didn't agree to it. And now you've rewritten it again with this awful scene without even asking if I'm comfortable. I can't do this anymore, Sean. I'm sorry."
I felt a heavy wave of guilt because this scene was completely my idea, not Sean's. And Adrienne was right. I should've talked to her about her comfort level before pitching the concept to him. I'd only thought about things from the audience's point of view and what would shock them on the big screen. To teenage me, the idea was a no-brainer. If someone had told me I'd get to watch a brutal catfight between two naked, bloody women, I would've lost my mind. Sure, here, only one of them was naked and bloody, but that still beat none.
"Okay," Sean said after a moment of thinking. "We can try Noah's approach with the bedsheet, but keep in mind that handling it during the scene will be a challenge. I already know that."
"That'll be my problem then," Adrienne said. "Now, can we start before any more of these perverts make me punch their noses in?"
Sean nodded. "Yeah. We're ready."
I had to give him credit for not throwing me under the bus. He took the blame for the change without hesitation.
As Adrienne and Sean walked toward the cabin set, one of the crew members approached me. "You needed fans, Noah? Where do we put them?"
I turned and saw the four guys I'd sent earlier dragging two massive industrial fans behind them, the kind we used for windstorms or dramatic running scenes.
"Oh, we don't need those anymore," I said with a deliberately apologetic expression. "Sean changed his mind. You can take them back to storage."
The man's jaw tightened in obvious annoyance, but he didn't say anything. He just turned around to leave.
"Oh, and Dennis?" I called out, making him stop. "Don't make the actresses uncomfortable by leering at them when they're in vulnerable situations. Tell your friends that too."
A flicker of realization crossed his face. "I swear I wasn't doing that, Noah."
"Doesn't matter," I said. "She thought you were. And if she complains to the director or the line producer, you guys get punished, not her. I'm telling you this because I actually like you guys, and I don't want anyone getting in trouble over something that can be avoided. My advice? If there's a naked girl on set, don't even look in her general direction unless it's required for your job. Got it?"
He nodded quickly. "Yeah. Thanks for the heads up."
Then he walked off with the others, all of them pushing the giant fans back across the uneven grass.
I didn't believe him for a second, but I also couldn't afford to antagonize the crew when we needed every pair of hands we had. Losing even one key crew member at this stage would be a headache. Losing four could delay production by a day or more, and every delay drained money we didn't have. A director's job is to keep the entire ship moving, not just stand alone at the helm.
"Noah!" Sean's voice cut across the set. He stood behind the camera, waving me over. "Will you look at this shot for me?"
That was code for: he needed me to direct the scene because he wasn't confident he was getting it right. He just didn't want to admit it in front of the entire crew.
"Coming!" I shouted back and jogged across the set toward him.
(Break)
"Nope," I said firmly, shaking my head. "I won't be a part of this scene. Not as an actor and definitely not as a director."
Tom Savini, our special effects supervisor, shot Sean a worried look.
"Why?" Sean asked after a moment. "You didn't have a problem filming all the sex scenes."
I stared at him, stunned that he even needed to ask. "Seriously? We didn't kill a helpless animal for those scenes. Here we are about to do exactly that. So no, I'm not gonna be part of it."
"Noah," Sean said in a calming tone, "we're all making this film for the audience. We're trying to give them something they've never seen before. This is going to look incredible. We even brought in a professional snake handler, and he's got a snake ready for the stunt."
I turned to Tom. "This was your idea, wasn't it?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I had a dream about it and told Sean."
"Then do it with practical effects," I said. "That's your whole thing. Not killing animals." Disgust rolled through me so hard I had to take a step back. "I'm going to my cabin. Call me if you change your minds."
I didn't wait for them to try to justify anything else. I stormed off, anger boiling under my skin. When I watched the movie years later, I honestly thought the whole moment was done with puppets or something. Finding out they'd actually killed a snake for the shot made me sick. People can call me a hypocrite for eating meat, but killing an animal for food is part of nature's cycle. Killing one for entertainment is something else entirely, and I wasn't going to be part of it.
I was walking so fast I wasn't paying attention, and I collided with someone coming around the corner.
"I'm so sorry," I said immediately.
"It's okay, man," he replied with a friendly wave. "No harm done to Jim or to me."
Right when he said the name, a snake slid out from inside his sleeve, gliding smoothly over his arm. Its tongue flicked in my direction, fast and precise.
"Don't worry, he's not venomous," the man said quickly. "He's really docile. I've had him for a decade, and he's never bitten anyone."
I looked from him to the snake, then back up at him, anger rising again. "What kind of person are you? You'd let them kill your pet snake for money just because he's old? All of you are disgusting. I want nothing to do with this."
I didn't wait for a response. I pushed past him and headed straight to my cabin, not slowing down until I dropped onto the lower bunk bed.
Once my anger faded a little, I forced myself to think more clearly. It was 1979. There were no laws protecting animals on movie sets. Animal welfare laws in general were nearly nonexistent. PETA didn't even exist yet, and filmmakers could get away with killing a snake on camera because no one cared enough to stop them.
Before I could come up with a proper plan for what to do next, the door to my cabin opened, and Sean walked in.
"What did you do, Noah?" he asked tiredly.
I cocked my head, genuinely confused. "What do you mean? I told you my reasons for not shooting the scene."
"No," he said with a frustrated shake of his head. "I mean, what exactly did you say to the snake handler? He went AWOL on me. A few crew members saw him talking to you before he disappeared."
I blinked a few times, replaying the moment. "I told him how I felt about you guys planning to kill his snake. That's it."
Sean let out a long sigh and sat on the bunk bed across from me. "Thought so. Apparently, the guy who hired him forgot to explain why we needed the snake in the first place. Now we don't have one at all. I talked to Tom, and we decided to cut the entire sequence from the film. It's already going to be long thanks to all your love scenes. We don't need the snake one, especially when you're so against it."
A smile tugged at my lips as I processed the accidental chain of events. Sean was right. We didn't need the snake scene. It was cruel, gory, and frankly didn't age well at all.
"Now, for God's sake, will you please come back to the set?" Sean pleaded. "I need your help blocking the next scene."
"Of course," I said with a grin. "As long as we're not killing anything on camera, I'm all in."
(Break)
It felt surreal knowing all my scenes were done and that I was now here purely as part of the crew. Or more accurately, as a co-director. It still irritated me that the DGA wouldn't let me put my name on the movie even though every scene and every shot had been supervised by me, directly or indirectly. Even when I was acting, I'd watch each take, and nothing got approved unless both Sean and I passed it.
Still, I didn't let that frustration drag me down. I'd poured everything I had into this film, and I was genuinely enjoying the ride. Sean helped too. He was unbelievably accommodating, always letting me try things my way. He even gave me control of the final shot of the whole movie. He'd been unsure about it at first, but I knew it was the moment that would make Friday the 13th the classic it became.
"Action!" I called out.
Adrienne shot upright on the hospital bed, screaming like her soul was tearing free.
"Ten milligrams of valium," the doctor ordered the nurse, gripping Adrienne's hand. "It's alright. You're okay now. Everything's over."
Both of them were delivering their lines well, and the sterile hospital set around them looked perfect under the lights. I kept the camera tight on Adrienne's face. She was our final girl, the hero who'd taken down the villain. Or one of the villains, at least.
But something felt off. Her performance wasn't landing the way it should. A girl whose friends, including her boyfriend, had all been slaughtered, and who'd barely survived herself, wouldn't look mildly rattled. She'd be terrified and wildly mistrustful of everything around her.
"Cut!" I yelled, pulling the plug on the take. "Adrienne, I need you to crank your fear way higher. All your friends died, you almost died, and now you're surrounded by strangers trying to touch you. You need to fight them more. Your face has to show just how much this whole nightmare has made you wary of everything around you."
Then I turned until I spotted the makeup artist hovering near the lights. "Can you make her look a little sweaty? Just enough so it seems like she woke up in a cold sweat. But not too much."
She nodded and walked over to Adrienne, dabbing a thin sheen of moisture across her forehead and temples. Under the bright hospital set lights, she looked shaken and clammy in a way that felt realistic.
Once the makeup artist stepped back, I nodded, satisfied, and returned to my place behind the camera.
"Action!"
The moment the scene began, I already knew it wouldn't work. Spending weeks with this ragtag group of actors, all of whom had agreed to work for SAG minimum, had taught me something painfully clear: I was the strongest actor in this cast. And I didn't consider myself to be a good actor. Adrienne, despite a decent audition that somehow landed her the lead role of Alice, wasn't who I would've picked. On her best days, she was mediocre, and right now, she wasn't even hitting that.
"Cut!"
I dragged in a long breath. "Again. That was too much. Tone it down a bit."
"Action."
"Cut."
"Action."
"Cut."
And the cycle kept repeating. 20 takes later, irritation was settling over the entire set. This was the final scene of the movie, and everyone wanted to celebrate wrapping up, but I still didn't have what I needed.
Sean leaned in and said, "Can you pick one of the earlier takes? We don't do this many on a film like this."
"Piss off, will you?" I said lightly. "We're not over budget, and I'm pretty sure you'd prefer a final scene where the girl doesn't look like she lost her mind after everything she's been through."
I turned back to Adrienne and softened my voice. "Let's do one more. I want your eyes hollow, like there's nothing left in you at all. And when you talk about Jason, don't sound curious. Sound afraid."
Adrienne nodded again, just like she had for the last so many takes, and we rolled once more.
This time, the scene opened perfectly. She fought against the doctors with the right level of panic, cold sweat glistening on her brow. When they injected her with valium, she didn't calm instantly, but her resistance softened just enough for the police officer to step in.
"Is everyone else dead?" she asked, her voice cracking with fear.
"Yes," the officer said, his hesitation adding to the weight of the moment. "We thought you were dead too when we pulled you out of the lake."
A single tear traced down Adrienne's cheek before she wiped it away.
"Wait," she said. "What about Jason? The boy who pulled me underwater?"
"Ma'am," the officer said, confused, "there was no boy."
Adrienne's expression shifted from wary to genuinely terrified.
And instead of shouting her next line as she had before, she whispered it, almost to herself, voice trembling.
"Oh, my God. He's still there."
The way she looked past everyone, as if staring straight into the memory, told me everything.
I had the shot.
"Cut!" I shouted, heart pounding. "Print! Check the gate!"
I turned to Sean. "Any objections to that one?"
Sean shook his head with a wide grin. "I think it's safe to say we've officially wrapped Friday the 13th."
A cheer erupted across the set, echoing through the fake hospital ward. I joined in, laughing with relief. My first movie as a part-director was done. And now the real difficult part would begin: post-production.
_____________________
AN: I'm so sorry for the delayed updates. I had a family emergency on top of my work being extra crazy this last month. I was literally running on fumes, and was this close to quitting everything, my job and writing all included.
Finally, I did what I should have done a while ago. I went on a holiday retreat that forced us to abandon our phones and laptops. A digital detox of a kind. It helped, and now I'm back in form again.
As an apology, I will be posting two chapters each of both my stories today.