Monday, April 10, 2023
Campus of University of Southern California — Student residence.
Chelsea Hale, a student in the acting program, was in her dorm room. Sitting in front of her laptop, she read carefully through a text that, if she was being honest, was far from the most stimulating thing in the world.
Now in her advanced second year, there were certain subjects that everyone in the program perceived as less practical. Not useless, but heavier. Especially at this point, where most of them just wanted to act constantly and make it.
Instead, there she was.
Studying how the industry worked. Contracts, unions, and legal structures. All necessary, but hard to compare with the intensity of a good scene.
Still, Chelsea didn't question it. She took it seriously. Very seriously.
For several reasons.
The first was simple: she had some of the best grades in her class, if not the best in nearly every subject. And she had no intention of losing that.
The second, more important: her parents. USC cost over fifty thousand dollars a year. They weren't rich. Sending her there was a real effort. There was no room for laziness.
Chelsea read while highlighting, making margin notes, and summarizing in her notebook. Line by line, skipping nothing.
Finally, she let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair.
"Text done," she murmured.
She closed her eyes for just a second, then opened them again.
'Now I have to read that eighty-nine-page theater history text for tomorrow,' she thought, slightly turning her head toward the screen where her task list was open.
She checked the time. She had time.
She always did. Not by chance, but because her daily schedule was meticulously organized.
'But first… coffee,' she decided.
She stood up from the chair, stretching slightly, feeling the stiffness in her back ease a bit. She walked across the small dorm space to the compact coffee maker sitting on a small table by the wall.
She placed the filter, added coffee and water, and turned it on.
The soft sound of the machine filled the room's silence for a couple of minutes. Chelsea stayed there, lightly leaning against the furniture, waiting.
When it was ready, she poured the coffee carefully, held the cup in her hands for a few seconds, and returned to her desk.
She sat down, placing the cup on a coaster right next to her laptop.
That's when she noticed a notification that had arrived less than five minutes earlier, while she was making the coffee. Almost by reflex, she moved the cursor and opened the email.
The subject immediately caught her attention.
Her heart skipped slightly as she read it.
CASTING OFFER – LEAD ROLE
Sender: Second Take Films.
For a second, she didn't react.
She just stared at the screen. Then, almost involuntarily, memories from the past few weeks came rushing back.
That same studio had launched an open casting call for the lead role in a horror film. She had applied, like thousands of other actresses. Literally thousands.
And not just that. Not all of them came from Backstage or open calls. There were also agency-represented actresses. With experience and films on their résumés.
Even so, Chelsea had managed to advance. Stage after stage.
Until the very end.
Top three.
That's when reality became clearer. The other two actresses didn't just have representation, both were signed with CAA, one of the biggest and most powerful agencies in the entire industry.
She had stood there with them and given absolutely everything in that final stage of the casting process.
But she didn't get it. The disappointment was still fresh. It had been an intense process. Exciting, yes, but also exhausting. Each round she passed raised the stakes. The possibility of landing her first leading role in a film.
And it was a horror movie. The kind of film that, if it worked, could launch a career.
The context mattered too.
Second Take Films wasn't some unknown studio. In fact, it had become one of the most talked-about studios recently, right alongside major indie players like A24 and Neon.
It could even be said that its growth was faster, since it grew in a very short period of time.
The film she had competed for would adapt a short film that already had millions of views on the studio's YouTube channel.
There was already an audience. Real interest. It wasn't starting from zero. And behind all of it, there was him:
Owen Ashford.
Her former classmate at USC, who had been expelled, and who could, without exaggeration, be called the most famous student from the school right now, at least within the acting program.
The idea wasn't indifferent to her.
They had had something. Hard to define. It was never a formal relationship. Not even close. Nor was it like they'd had some long informal thing.
They had kissed once at a party. And that was it.
Not because anything specific had happened, but because Chelsea had decided to stop it there. At the time, he had seemed chaotic to her, too disorganized. She didn't see how they could work in a serious relationship.
Besides, she wanted to focus on her career. No distractions.
Now, in retrospect, it felt curious. Almost ironic.
That same guy she had once seen as chaotic, without structure, without a clear direction, had won an Oscar. Had founded his own studio. Was about to take a film to Cannes with distribution already secured. Had multiple award-winning short films. And a brand that was growing every single day.
That same guy.
Chelsea didn't dwell on it any longer. She clicked on the email.
Subject: Casting Invitation – Lead Role (New Project)
Dear Chelsea Hale,
We hope you are doing well.
Following your previous audition with Second Take Films, we wanted to reach out to you directly regarding a new project currently in development.
Your work during the last casting process impressed us, and as a result, you have been selected to be part of a very small group of actors invited to audition for the lead role in this new project.
This will be a closed selection process, limited to a few chosen candidates.
Project details:
-Lead role (female)
-Independent pilot episode (series)
-Filming scheduled for late April
-Paid position
-Produced and written by Owen Ashford
We would like to move forward quickly with this process.
If you are interested, please confirm your availability within the next 24 hours, and we will send you the audition material (script) along with further instructions.
We appreciate the work you did on the previous project and hope to see you again soon.
Kind regards,
Robert Heinzel
Casting Director
Chelsea finished reading, and then read it again.
More slowly.
That line: your work impressed us.
She felt something immediately: pride. Because it hadn't just been her own perception. It hadn't been luck. She had stood out. In a large, competitive process.
And she had been seen.
At the time, when she lost, it had hurt. Much more than she had admitted.
Getting to the final stage, competing against two agency-represented actresses, and falling short, it wasn't easy to process. For a few days, she had even doubted everything. Wondered if it had all been decided beforehand. If she had ever really had a chance.
Everyone always said the same thing, that Hollywood ran on connections.
But then she thought about it more carefully and realized that, in this case, it didn't make sense.
They weren't opening a casting call on Backstage, reviewing thousands of actresses, or running multiple rounds over several days just to end up choosing someone they had already decided on from the start.
The director had simply picked the actress who convinced him the most. And in that case, it had been Anya Taylor-Joy.
Back to the present, now she had another opportunity with the same studio. And the context was different. From what she had read, only a few candidates had been selected. The competition would be smaller, though no less difficult.
'How many could there be?' she thought, her mind racing.
The idea came on its own. If it was a closed casting, how many actresses were in that group? Five? Ten? More?
Then she focused on the detail.
It was a series. A standalone episode.
It wasn't the perfect scenario, she wouldn't be the lead of an entire show, but the magnitude of the opportunity didn't really change. It was still massive.
For someone in her position, it was everything.
With this role, beyond doing what she loved as a lead, she could join the union, likely secure an agent, gain visibility, among many other benefits.
She didn't think about it any further.
She replied to the email almost immediately, confirming her interest. Before sending it, she reread it several times, quickly, but carefully, making sure it sounded professional, natural, and not desperate at all.
When she was satisfied, she sent it.
And then came the wait.
Twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes in which she tried to go back to the text she had pending for the next day, but she couldn't. Her eyes moved across the lines, but her mind was somewhere else.
Every few seconds, she glanced at the screen.
Until it arrived.
She opened the email instantly. Her eyes went straight to the content.
'This is a standalone episode within an anthology series centered on psychological tension and the impact of technology on human behavior. The tone is realistic, intense, and character-driven.'
Chelsea kept reading, more and more engaged.
The protagonist was a woman in her twenties. It required a wide emotional range. Vulnerability. Confusion. The character's background was intentionally limited. They didn't give much information.
That, too, said something. They didn't want to condition the performance.
Three scenes were attached to the email. She had to record them in a neutral format, no need for makeup, just acting.
She had forty-eight hours.
If she made it past this stage, she would be called for a final in-person session at the Second Take Films studio.
Chelsea stayed still for a few seconds, staring at the screen.
"So I'm in a semifinal," she murmured, one hand resting against her chin.
Even though they had told her she was among a few selected, she wasn't in the final yet. But she also didn't have to go through multiple rounds to get there. Which was still a strong starting point.
She was probably competing against a group of ten actresses. Maybe fewer.
She pushed aside the coursework for the next day and opened the scenes.
Classes mattered, but this mattered more. She only had forty-eight hours. This was a real opportunity.
Chelsea began to read.
First, generally. Then again, more slowly. Then a third time, stopping at every line, breaking down intentions, subtext, and rhythm. Her mind began working on its own, building the character from the little information she had been given.
She was already fully immersed in one of the scenes when the dorm room door opened.
Jazmine, her roommate, walked in.
"Hey!" she greeted, closing the door behind her and dropping her bag onto the bed. "You're still studying?"
Chelsea barely responded, letting out a short sound without lifting her gaze.
"The Mario Bros movie was great, you missed it," Jazmine continued, getting settled. "Everyone went. And I read it's already made over two hundred million. Crazy."
She kept talking, going into details about the outing, until Chelsea interrupted her.
"Jazmine, please… I'm in the middle of something. Can we talk later?" she said, not harshly, but without taking her eyes off the screen.
Jazmine raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.
"Studying for tomorrow's text? You have the best GPA in the class, you can relax a little."
Chelsea shook her head slightly. "It's not that."
That caught her attention.
Jazmine took a few steps closer, curious. "Then what is it?"
Chelsea hesitated for a second. Then, with a quick movement, she slightly turned the laptop, closing off the viewing angle.
"A scene," she said.
Jazmine frowned, surprised. "Hey… why can't I see?"
Chelsea placed a firm hand on the laptop.
"I can't show it. When they send you material like this, it's confidential. You don't share it."
Jazmine watched her for another second, evaluating. "Then it's something serious… which studio?"
Chelsea hesitated briefly.
"Second Take Films."
That was enough.
Jazmine's eyes widened. "What? They opened casting again? I didn't know! You should've told me," she said almost immediately, already reaching for her phone as if she had just missed something important.
Chelsea shook her head. "It's not an open casting."
Jazmine looked up. "Then?"
"They sent me an email I wasn't expecting. They selected me for a new project, but it's not an open casting. I guess they liked what I did in the previous one," Chelsea replied.
Jazmine nodded quickly and grabbed her phone. She had also submitted for the Lights Out audition through Backstage. So if her friend had received a closed audition, she might have a chance too.
She scrolled down, up, refreshed.
Nothing.
Her expression shifted slightly. "I didn't get anything," she murmured, more to herself than to Chelsea.
"That's a shame," Chelsea said.
But it made sense to her that Jazmine hadn't been selected.
Unlike her, Jazmine hadn't made it to the later stages of the process. Not even the penultimate round. She had only gotten past the first stage. And in a casting of that scale, that wasn't enough to stand out.
Jazmine let that small initial disappointment slip out, and almost immediately covered it with a measured smile.
"Whatever… congratulations! I hope you get it," she said, recovering her usual tone. "What's the project about? Wait! It must be that new one, right? The one Owen is doing with Jenna Ortega. I read they hired a director recently."
Chelsea knew exactly what she was talking about.
The rumors had been circulating for days.
Since early April, photos had started to appear. First a few scattered ones, then clearer shots: Owen and Jenna walking together, leaving the same building, entering the Second Take Films offices. Nothing explicit, but enough for the internet to do the rest.
The previous context helped too.
The Spectacular Now had been performing very well. An A24 indie, a coming-of-age romance that had already passed its third week in theaters with solid numbers. At the beginning of April, it had a limited international release in the United Kingdom, Canada, and Australia, bringing in around seven million during that period.
Globally, the film was already nearing 38 million dollars.
For a four-million-dollar budget, and marketing that likely sat between eight and twelve, driven by A24's confidence in its lead duo, it wasn't just a good result.
It was one of the indie successes of the year.
The strong chemistry between Owen and Jenna, the leads, had already fueled rumors before. Not just in the film, but also in interviews, premieres, and promotional content maybe even more so there.
Yes, there was always that marketing component in romantic films, that constructed closeness for the audience.
But in this case, it felt too believable. Too real.
That's why, when the photos surfaced, everything escalated very quickly.
And at the same time, news about a new Second Take Films project started coming out. Reports said Owen had hired a respected director within the scene, and Jenna, based on the photos entering the offices, was also involved.
But there were no concrete details.
Everything was still very tightly under wraps.
Chelsea thought, if they were considering her for the lead, then what was Jenna's role?
Because she was an actress, and a major one right now. She thought about the scenes they had sent her. There was a female figure, the counterpart.
Could that be it?
She didn't know. And Owen?
There, she hesitated more. She didn't think he would act.
In Lights Out, for example, he hadn't taken a role. He didn't put himself in front of the camera just because. Even if he wrote, produced, or financed, he didn't force his presence.
"I guess it must be that project," Chelsea finally said.
"That's amazing!" Jazmine replied almost instantly. "You could work with Jenna Ortega! And of course… with Owen, the genius who got expelled from our university. And another project already? How fast does that guy even move?"
"I don't know…" Chelsea murmured.
It was surprising, no doubt. He closed a deal with a distributor like Neon and, almost at the same time, was already moving on a new project.
But she didn't dwell on it.
She stopped wasting time and got back to work.
She read them again. And again. She highlighted. Took notes. Broke down moments and intentions.
She started rehearsing them. Then she moved. USC had spaces for recording this kind of thing, she wasn't going to do it in her dorm room.
She booked a small room on campus. Found a classmate to read lines with her, and a friend who understood cameras and lighting.
The next day, she sent in the three scenes and then the waiting began.
Each day felt longer than the last.
Until it came.
April 13.
A notification.
Chelsea opened the message almost instantly.
'Yes!' she thought, a mix of excitement and relief, holding back her reaction because she was in the campus library.
She had made it to the final stage.
This time, it was in person.
April 15, 9:00 AM. New scenes attached. And not just that, there would likely be improvisation, adjustments on the spot, and direction from the director.
The morning of the 15th came quickly.
She woke up early, reviewed the scenes one last time, and headed out. Outside, there was a light, steady rain, but not enough to matter. She called an Uber. She had no other option. Her parents were working, her friends were in class, and she should have been there too.
She skipped classes.
But the professor understood. This wasn't just any excuse, she was covered.
During the ride, she didn't look at her phone. She had her lines clear. She didn't want to overthink it anymore.
Just get there, and do it.
The car stopped in front of the Second Take Films offices.
Chelsea paid, stepped out, and stood there for a second, looking at the building.
She took a deep breath.
'Here we go.'
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