[Owen POV]
Two weeks into August. Students had returned to school after the summer break.
The filming was over. As an actor, I have nothing to do right now.
But as a studio head, I promised Claire to shoot at least one film for the direct to video (DTV) distribution.
After a thorough discussion with the marketing team, Chbosky and Payne decided to rename the movie from 'The Man Who Tried', to 'Hold On Tight'.
The marketing team thought it would roll off the tongue better. I actually agreed with them.
The movie was now in post production, and it would take at least two weeks for the movie to be finished.
At the DMV, I was waiting in the seat for the driving instructor to come after I finished the written test.
I bit the lid of the pen as I jotted down some ideas for the shitty we would make for the shameless cash grab attempt.
Claire told me several things, such as if the movie had good reception, it could go straight to TV– which would boost visibility and help push the sales once it enter the market.
Or in some rare cases, a straight to video movie that had some potential, good story and acting, which was put to theater for a limited run.
For example, 'Bloodsport (1988)' , a Van Damme movie that was supposed to be released on DTV but during a test run the studio realized the audience loved it and put it in theaters.
In this era, if the vhs tape has the label 'as seen in theater' on the case, the audience would think it was a legit movie and buy them.
I have no plans to make something like that.
Claire wanted to release three DTV movies, so I wrote two drafts of a script before hiring actual writers to finish it, and let her make the movie under a six million dollar budget– so it meant 3 million dollars each, or they could split it however they wanted.
The first was titled; Fantastical Halloween, a kid-friendly movie.
A bunch of kids were playing D&D on Halloween night, and accidentally brought their characters into real life.
So the tallest kid became a dwarf, the skinny kid became a muscular orc, the cowardly kid became a paladin, and the dumbest kid became a magician.
Claire actually really loved the script and gave the movie to cinematographer Guillermo Navarro to direct.
Making a kids movie but changing the cast into adults was a trope familiar in Hollywood with the Jumanji movies.
The second one was for a Christmas DTV release.
The title– Deck the Dads. Two rival dads try to outdo each other decorating their homes for Christmas. Their kids secretly scheme to get them to become friends.
It was a simple premise for a feel good Christmas movie.
Holiday movies and action movies were the main staples for the DTV market so let's just try it and see what happens.
"Owen Chase!" A tall, slightly lanky African-American man called my name.
Some people there turned to see if I was the actor they saw in the Sixth Sense movie, but none could recognize me yet since I had undergone tremendous transformation since the movie came out.
The instructor slid into the passenger seat, clipboard on his lap. I entered the driver's seat, clicked the belt into place, shifted the mirror, and started the engine.
"Good. Pull forward. Stop at that sign, full three seconds." The driver said with a tired face. It had been a long day for him.
For me too since I had to wait at the DMV for at least 4 hours to get a turn.
I rolled ahead, stopped cleanly, counted in my head, then eased on.
"Parallel park between those cones." He ordered.
I slid the car in with one smooth turn of the wheel. The tires lined up perfectly against the curb. The instructor didn't say anything, just made a note.
"Signal left. Check your blind spot. Merge when safe."
I flicked the blinker, turned my head, merged without a bump.
"Pretend this curb's a hill. Park and angle your wheels."
I turned them exactly how he wanted.
"Accelerate to twenty-five. When I say stop, brake."
I pressed the pedal, the car hummed forward.
"Stop!" He said abruptly.
I braked hard but smooth. No skid.
We looped back to the lot. I parked between the lines, straight as a ruler.
The instructor closed his clipboard.
"Most people mess up at least once," he said. "You didn't. Congratulations. You passed the test."
"Thanks." I replied easily.
I had already taken the test in my first life, so it was easy this time. The whole thing ended in twenty minutes, and I walked out with a temporary paper license.
The plastic card would come in the mail a couple of weeks later.
After finishing up, I took the bus home. Later, Djalu, Michael, and I headed to a junk car sale.
To my surprise, the salesperson wasn't an old man in greasy overalls, but a beautiful brunette with tattoos on her shoulder. She wore a tank top and long jeans, wiping her oily hands with a rag.
Michael's eyes lit up immediately, but before he could open his mouth to flirt, she cut him off.
"The Supra, right?" she asked.
She shut the hood of the car she'd been working on and led us over to the one we came for. Micheal continued to try to talk to her as we walked.
I watched the piles and piles of junk cars like trash, Djalu watched them like treasures.
The car looked like it had lived two different lives. The driver's side was in decent shape, clean paint, and a beautiful exterior. But the passenger side was dented inward, the kind of damage you'd expect from a bad accident.
She sighed as she looked at the car. "The chassis is busted. You'd probably be better off checking a used car lot. This one's on its last leg. If you think of restoring it, there's much better options out there."
I turned to Djalu. He gave me a small, 'I can do it' nod.
"How much?" I asked the girl.
"If you can pick it up yourself, a hundred bucks. If you want me to deliver it, four hundred."
Michael blinked. "Megan, how is delivery worth more than the car?"
"That's just how it is," she said flatly. "Do you want it or not?"
"Sure, I'll take it," I replied.
"You deliver," Michael added quickly.
Megan rolled her eyes. "Fine. But the more you flirt, the higher the price goes."
"Wait, I'm the one buying it," I said calmly. "Why punish me for his mouth?"
She froze for a moment, caught off guard, then looked away, embarrassed. "...Fine. A hundred bucks for delivery."
Micheal laughed slightly. Megan scoffed and said, "Well, at the very least you guys aren't obnoxious. So I'll throw in some parts for you to use for the restoration. If you manage to do it, call me. I want to see it."
"Give your number to him, not Micheal." I told her. "He's the one who's going to restore it in his workshop."
Her eyes lit up and she took a second glance at Djalu, "You have your own workshop?"
Djalu nodded and said, "Yeah. I've been restoring many things there."
"Like what?" She asked, intrigued.
"Watches, computers. A Harley Davidson. Currently a 71' Chevelle. Do you want to come and see it? It's almost done." Djalu invited her casually.
She brightened up and said, "Okay. Once you show me yours, I'll show you mine."
She was also in the process of restoring a car. Djalu has a lot in common with her.
We had already set up a small workshop for Djalu, so the Supra would be sent there.
Djalu was a born hustler. His esper ability was a unique gift—he could take broken, worthless junk and restore it back to factory-new condition.
Old wristwatches from the 1920s and 30s? He'd pick them up for a few dollars at flea markets, fix them up with his power, and sell them to antique shops for hundreds.
A week ago, he scored a luxury watch for twenty bucks and flipped it for five grand.
Same with motorcycles. He bought a busted Harley for $500, restored it overnight, and sold it for $10,000 cash.
Even with phones and computers, he'd scoop up piles of outdated junk from junkyards. He didn't even bother selling those—he just handed them out to kids and neighbors, because the profit margin wasn't worth his time.
If Djalu wanted, he could build an empire out of this ability. But for now, he was happy staying in the shadows, flipping dead items into gold.
And as for me, I liked the Supra. Especially this one. The pop-up headlights gave it a certain charm.
When I came home that night, I saw 'Jack Kennedy' sitting in the lounge area.
I asked 'him', "Did you pass the test?"
Shiryu changed back into a snake and returned to being the ring on my finger.
Elena, who was acting as me today, replied, "I did. I failed the first one, then I bribed the guy with 500 bucks to get me a second try. Then, I got it."
Michael snorted and laughed. I was just glad that I managed to register both identities at once.
…
-Jack Kennedy's office-
A week after the DMV.
George stared at the stack of books I dropped on the table.
It looked like a small library—dog-eared, sticky-noted, and scribbled full of my handwriting.
"You actually read all these?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yeah," I said casually. "I started with theory—Arnheim's Film as Art, Bazin's What Is Cinema?, and Sarris' The American Cinema. I need to know the foundations before anything else."
George whistled. "That's already film-school canon. Most students don't even finish one."
"Then I went into history and commentary," I continued, pointing at the middle pile.
"Truffaut's Hitchcock/Truffaut, Eisenstein's Film Form, Pudovkin's Film Technique and Film Acting, Bresson's Notes on the Cinematographer, and Spoto's The Art of Alfred Hitchcock. It was… dense, but worth it."
He lifted the Hitchcock/Truffaut book and flipped it open. "It took me three months to get through this in college."
"Really? I read all of that last night."
George gave me a weird look.
"After that, I read philosophy. Tarkovsky's Sculpting in Time, Walter Murch's In the Blink of an Eye, Kracauer's Theory of Film, and Bordwell's Narration in the Fiction Film.
Tarkovsky wrote that 'time, imprinted in the frame, is what the cinema is made of.' That stuck with me. It's not about the shot—it's about the rhythm of memory."
George blinked at me, silent.
"And then the practical stuff," I added quickly, as if nothing happened. "Mamet's On Directing Film, Lumet's Making Movies, Richard Bare's The Film Director: A Practical Guide, William Goldman's Adventures in the Screen Trade, Rabiger's Directing: Film Techniques and Aesthetics. And Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces for structure."
George set the pile down and leaned back in his chair. "That's… what? Twenty books?"
"Nineteen," I corrected.
He stared at me in disbelief. "If you've read all those books, what do you even want me to teach you?"
"Just some pacing issues. Here." I slid over the script I'd written and the storyboard I'd drawn.
Then I popped a VHS tape into the TV in my office. "This is the fight choreography I'm planning."
George's eyes widened as the footage rolled. The choreography looked like it was straight out of the 2010s—slick, fast-paced, gritty, and tightly planned. I had mixed in a few comedic beats too, and played the lead myself, disguised as a random stuntman with Shiryu.
Michael, Djalu, and Agustin helped play the bad guys, hiding their faces under the human-skin masks I'd crafted.
With all of us boosted by enhanced reflexes, shooting the sequence had been simple.
I even pulled them into the dreamscape beforehand so they could see exactly what kind of movie I wanted to make and get their opinions on it.
Their feedback was overwhelmingly positive, which made me confident the script would work.
Elena handled the camera, linking her mind with mine so I could see and control the shots directly.
The camera was big and clunky, it was also hard to be flexible with it for an ordinary person. However for us, the weight was barely negligible. It was like holding a camcorder.
"You made this?" George was floored.
I nodded. "Yeah. I'm planning to talk with the stunt company today about recreating it."
"No—wait. Jack, this is already at blockbuster level. Scratch that—it's beyond. You don't need another stunt company. Just use your people!"
I shook my head. "They're professional fighters, not stuntmen. They only helped me as a favor. They won't do it again."
George stammered, searching for words. "Even if a stunt team pulled off half of this, your movie would be a hit."
"Thank you," I said with a small smile.
"Have you found your actors yet?" he asked.
"Not yet. No one good wants to touch a DTV movie with a budget under three million." I said with a sigh.
George went quiet, then frowned. "You don't have money? Why are you even making DTV? This…belongs in theaters."
"Claire wants a DTV catalog," I answered calmly.
"That's for garbage flicks," George shot back. "This has potential. Raise the budget, get recognizable actors, market it properly."
"If the end result is good, then I might consider it."
We went to the stunt company building after. I showed them the footage, and also showed them how I would shoot the scenes.
They were flabbergasted when they saw me holding the camera and filmed the shot from such a close distance.
Seeing the end product, the stunt team became elated to join the project. We wrapped our discussion smoothly.
Later, at my house—as Owen—I walked into the lounge. Michael and the others were watching an action movie.
It was Paper Dragons, a straight-to-video martial arts film made on a shoestring budget.
"Why are you watching that?" I asked.
"I want to see the kind of crap your CEO wants you to make," Michael teased.
"Hmm?" I glanced at the screen—and froze when I spotted a familiar face.
Hawkeye? What's his name again…
"Micheal, skip to the credits for a second," I said.
"We just started it," he groaned.
"Just do it."
With a sigh, he fast-forwarded. No skip button meant sitting through the whole thing at high speed until the end credit finally rolled.
I found the name I was looking for after a while.
"Jeremy Renner, huh?" I muttered, remembering something.
Then I left.
Michael blinked, then shouted,"Hey! Are you kidding me? Screw you!"
…
That night, I decided to awaken two more people using the esper serum.
A 17-year-old girl and a 15-year-old boy.
The girl was from Indonesia. Her name was Cahaya—it meant light in her language. She had an oval face, pretty cute features, and she loved to wear golden bracelets.
The boy was from Paraguay. Gael was pretty average in every way—height, looks, even his exam results.
Both of them had reached level 3 in the foundation realm. I inserted the serum into the back of their necks and doused their brains with my qi.
Shortly after, the girl finished her transformation first. However, the boy nearly drained my entire qi reserve, so I had to take a few energy-replenishing pills to awaken him.
It took me until dawn to awaken him. Elena and Micheal were really worried.
"Haaah." I breathed heavily as I flopped down to the ground. The sun had risen again, and I was extremely tired.
"Owen. Are you alright?" Elena asked as she gave me some water.
"I'm fine. Has Aya woken up yet?" I asked, gasping for air.
Elena nodded, and the girl who had finished her transformation returned to the courtyard.
"What did you get?" I asked.
"I think… it's something weird." She raised her hand, and the saturation of colors in the surroundings became distorted. Then, she created a blue tint across the courtyard, and even changed the color of my shirt.
"I think I can change the gradient color of things," she muttered with a confused expression. "How can this work in a fight?"
"It's level 1, right?" Elena comforted her. "Like Agustin, I think it's something that will become better once you evolve it."
"Maybe you can throw polka dots around and disintegrate stuff later on," I said, remembering the Polka-Dot Man.
The boy, Gael, woke up while we were still talking.
Micheal rubbed his hair vigorously and said, "You scared us, little bitch. I thought you were going to die when you took so long to awaken!"
"Hmm?"
As Gael touched Micheal's hand to remove it, I saw something interesting happen.
Gael blinked slowly and began to sense his ability. He walked to the wall, and then walked on it vertically—the same as Micheal's ability.
"Did you get a magnet ability too?" Micheal was in disbelief.
"I think so," Gael said with a confused expression.
"Hey. Try touching Aya's hand and see if anything happens," I asked him.
Everyone was confused by my words, but Gael obeyed. Then, I saw the light again.
"Wait. I can control colors now?" Gael was confused as he began tinting his shirt.
Elena widened her eyes in shock. "You can copy abilities?"
"What?" Gael was flabbergasted.
"I don't think that's it. Gael, try focusing on one ability—maybe the color ability. See if you can bring out more power compared to Aya."
Gael nodded and closed his eyes. Suddenly, his entire body disappeared.
"I think that's level 2," Gael muttered as he appeared again.
Then, he focused once more. This time, he created a floating color ball in his hand. When he threw the ball at a vase, everything it touched disintegrated.
"What the fuck!" Micheal muttered in shock. Cahaya had stars in her eyes, muttering, "That's how my ability is going to evolve?"
I turned to Gael. "You have a level 3 Copy ability. And the best part is, you can bring the esper ability you copied to your current level. It's definitely a protagonist-type of power."
I was a bit jealous of his ability. Then, I turned to the unused esper fluid.
'I wonder what I'm going to get.'
I couldn't wait any longer for everyone else to have their awakening first. When my energy reserve was full again, I would try to awaken myself.
Gael and Cahaya would spend the day trying to test the limit of their powers.
Gael could only copy three abilities. He explained it like this. If the ability was level 1, he could copy three of them. If it was level two, he could only copy one level two and another level 1.
I think he could copy them as long as the copied ability levels summed together was the same as his ability level.
When he met Sandra, he could only copy her ability as it is and no additional ability.
The longest he could hold on to that ability was 6 hours. Then, it would disappear and he would need to copy it again.
"Wait. What will happen when you copy my ability and enhance it?" Agustin asked excitedly.
"Let's see." Gael copied Agustin's powers– the power of level one calculation and amplified it to level three.