The budget for the first season of 24 hours was not generous; most of the funds were spent on building realistic CTU interior sets and paying the salaries of lead actors like Kiefer Sutherland.
Therefore, for location shoots, the director used quick, efficient "departure" and "arrival" shots to complete scene transitions, focusing primarily on indoor dialogue and action.
Landon had only one scene today:
Jack Bauer (played by Kiefer) and Tony Almeida (played by Landon) receive orders and quickly walk out of the temporary headquarters toward a vehicle parked on the roadside.
Jack pulls open the driver's door, Tony heads for the passenger seat, they both get in, and Jack drives away, out of the shot.
Neither had any lines; there was only the rhythm of hurried footsteps and a stony-faced sense of urgency—a standard task transition shot.
At ten in the morning, the angle of the sunlight was just right.
The director called for preparation.
Landon and Kiefer stood at the designated building exit.
Kiefer, in a suit jacket with a cold expression, had completely entered the character of Jack Bauer.
Landon adjusted his suit jacket and took a deep breath, suppressing all the stray thoughts in his mind—Elisha's obsessive gaze, the warmth of Tracy and Rachel, and the enticing yet high-pressure audition for the fast and the furious.
At this moment, he was just Tony Almeida, the shrewd and capable agent in CTU.
"Action!"
The two stepped out almost simultaneously, their pace swift and steady, the sound of leather shoes striking the sidewalk clear and rhythmic.
They crossed the short distance to the black sedan.
Kiefer smoothly pulled open the driver's door and slid inside.
Landon simultaneously walked to the passenger side, pulled open the door, and leaned in to sit.
The entire process of getting into the car took less than ten seconds, with no superfluous movements, eye contact, or communication—only a mutual understanding.
Then Jack started the car and drove away. After the car had traveled some distance...
"Cut!" Joel Surnow's voice came from behind the monitor. "Great! That's a wrap for this shot! Prepare for Jack's solo arrival shot next!"
The car drove back, and Landon and Kiefer got out.
Kiefer gave him a nod of approval and then headed toward the director to discuss the next scene.
Landon's work for today was finished just like that.
He didn't leave the set immediately.
According to unwritten Hollywood rules, unless there's an emergency, lead actors should stay until the main part of the day's shooting schedule is finished, even if they've completed their scenes early, as a sign of respect for the crew and other actors.
Of course, if Landon were a big enough star, he could ignore such unwritten rules.
Moreover, he also intended to stay and observe.
For the next few hours, the set became Kiefer Sutherland's personal showcase.
Various "arrival" shots: the car braking sharply, Jack pushing the door open and stepping out, walking toward different building entrances with a grave expression;
Or rushing out of a building and quickly driving away.
Every shot required precise positioning, appropriate expressions, and instantaneous emotional outbursts.
Kiefer demonstrated the top-tier professionalism that allowed him to anchor the show, getting through almost every shot in one or two takes with incredible efficiency.
Landon found a corner out of the way and watched silently.
He studied how Kiefer conveyed the character's internal state—anxiety, determination, anger, exhaustion—through subtle expressions and body language within extremely short shots.
This wasn't just technique; it was instinct accumulated over years of experience.
Watching Kiefer's effortless control in front of the camera, the thought surfaced strongly in Landon's mind again: he must find an opportunity to work deeply with an actor like this.
That movie, phone booth, if there really was a chance in the future... he needed an opponent like this to challenge himself.
While immersed in observation and thought, a familiar fragrance approached.
Elisha had come to his side at some point, naturally reaching out to take his arm and leaning her head gently against his shoulder.
She said nothing, just accompanied him in watching the busy set.
Landon's body stiffened slightly again, but he didn't pull away.
A warm weight leaned against him; the girl's soft skin pressed against his arm through his clothes.
He looked down and could see the top of her blonde head and her long eyelashes.
Staff members passed by occasionally, their gazes lingering for a moment before quickly moving on.
In this production crew, it wasn't unheard of for feelings to sprout between young actors; as long as it didn't affect work, most people reacted with kind silence or a knowing smile.
However, Landon's heart couldn't be as calm as his exterior.
This relationship with Elisha, which had started suddenly and continued to heat up, was like a vine that lacked planning but grew too fast, entangling itself in his already increasingly complex life structure.
He enjoyed the satisfaction brought by her youthful vitality, her obsessive admiration, and her unreserved closeness.
The feeling was real and enticing, providing a completely different emotional experience alongside Tracy's rationality and Rachel's innocence.
But he also knew this relationship was built on a fragile foundation.
Elisha seemed satisfied with the "now" and didn't ask about the future, like many short-lived romances that bloom in Hollywood.
But what about him? Could he keep letting things "take their course" like this?
When the filming of 24 hours ended and they each headed to new projects, how would this relationship end?
More importantly, how would he face Tracy and Rachel?
One cannot keep a fire wrapped in paper; especially in this industry where there are almost no secrets.
He had previously tried to rationalize his behavior with a Hollywood-style "realistic attitude"—the temptation was too great, he couldn't resist, so he would enjoy the moment.
But every time Elisha approached with such total trust and attachment, those simplistic excuses seemed hollow.
He wasn't just facing an indulgence; he was facing a young life that had invested real emotion.
"Tired?" Elisha seemed to feel the stiffness in his body and looked up to ask in a low voice.
"No," Landon smiled at her, reaching out to put his arm around her shoulder to make her more comfortable. This movement elicited a satisfied sigh from her.
For now, let it be.
He thought to himself as he looked at Kiefer in the distance, who was discussing positioning with the director.
At least for now, on this sunny morning on set, he allowed himself to be momentarily immersed in this warm entanglement.
He didn't have a clear answer yet on how to proceed or how to handle this increasingly complex web of emotions.
Perhaps the answer would emerge naturally through action, or perhaps it would take a sharp conflict to sort it out.
He tightened his arm, pulling Elisha closer, feeling the tenderness of the moment, while his gaze drifted past the bustle of the set toward that unknowable tomorrow.