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SH - Chapter 64: Female lead
🕑 Added 2025-11-23 16:17:15 +0000 UTCJenna was riding in a black sedan alongside Evan, a junior assistant at CAA, the agency that had been representing her for a little over a year.
The drive to A24’s offices took just over ten minutes. Thankfully, Los Angeles traffic was lighter than usual.
CAA, Creative Artists Agency, was one of the most powerful talent agencies in the world.
Its headquarters were in Los Angeles, and it represented a wide range of talent, actors, directors, writers, and musicians. Founded in 1975, its client list in the film industry was nothing short of spectacular.
Getting in wasn’t easy. In fact, for most young actors, it was nearly impossible without a major breakout or a direct recommendation.
Jenna had been accepted in 2021, after the release of The Fallout.
That film, despite being small in budget and skipping theaters entirely, had been the key.
Her performance caught the attention of several executives, and soon her name reached the radar of Tracy Brennan, one of the biggest agents in Hollywood.
Tracy was a senior partner at the agency, a powerful figure known for building careers from scratch and leading her clients to the industry’s most prestigious awards.
She had a reputation for being tough, direct, and demanding, but also for possessing an infallible intuition for recognizing real talent.
She represented actresses like Emma Stone, Saoirse Ronan, and Florence Pugh. And, for the past year, Jenna as well.
When CAA confirmed that Tracy Brennan would be her personal agent, Jenna could barely believe it. It was a massive leap: from a mid-tier agency to signing with CAA, one of the most influential in the world, and having one of its most respected partners guiding her career.
For all those reasons, she knew it wasn’t common for Tracy to accompany an audition. Not even if Jenna were signing the contract today, usually that would be handled via email or a video call, especially for an independent film with a budget of only three million dollars.
But the simple fact that Brennan had sent an assistant to accompany her said a lot. Tracy didn’t send anyone unless the role was worth it.
Jenna could have gone alone, like in many other auditions, but not this time. That small detail reminded her that, for her agent, this opportunity mattered.
As the car moved forward, Jenna sat in the back seat, looking out the window while mentally reviewing her lines.
She barely knew Evan, the assistant CAA had sent. She’d seen him a couple of times in meetings, but their relationship was purely professional.
The ride was quiet, almost monotonous, with only the steady hum of the engine and the ambient noise of Los Angeles filling the space.
'Sophie Thatcher…' Jenna thought as she looked out the window, letting the script lines fade from her mind.
Co-star of Paranormal Activity, and Owen’s girlfriend. Many users had mentioned her under the Hollywood Reporter post announcing that Owen would be the male lead in The Spectacular Now.
It made sense to assume Sophie would also audition for the female lead. She had talent, a solid reputation, and undeniable on-screen chemistry with Owen.
A tough combination to beat.
Jenna knew it. No matter how good her audition was, the presence of a real-life couple complicated things, not because of merit, but because of perception, marketing, and playing it safe.
Choosing Sophie would be a safer decision: fans who liked her and Owen together would be pleased, their chemistry was already proven, and the marketing could benefit from it.
Still, A24 wasn’t just any studio.
She had worked with them on X, and she knew they were professional, meticulous, and far more interested in acting than marketing.
Even so, she couldn’t ignore the obvious: Owen himself had written the script and had already signed his contract.
That inevitably gave him power. Not in the final decision, of course, but certainly influence.
In a chemistry test, the smallest detail, a line delivered with less energy, a less intense look, could shift the outcome.
It wasn’t impossible that Owen might do that: not fully giving himself in readings with other actresses just to favor his girlfriend.
Jenna sighed, resting her forehead against the window. It was better not to jump to conclusions. Maybe he would act like a professional, giving his all in every reading regardless of who he was paired with, even if his girlfriend was competing for the role.
And perhaps Sophie hadn’t even been given an audition, Jenna wasn’t sure.
The car turned right, and Evan parked in front of the A24 building, a discreet block of glass and concrete.
Jenna took a deep breath, adjusted her bag, and opened the door, “Thanks, I’ll be back in a bit.”
Evan nodded. “Good luck,” he said, his tone neutral but polite.
Jenna gave a small smile, closed the door, and began walking toward the entrance. The late-morning sun fell directly onto the sidewalk, and for an instant she felt the warm air on her skin.
As soon as Jenna stepped inside the building, she was greeted by a woman in her thirties holding a folder. She was the casting coordinator, and it looked as if she had been waiting for her.
With a friendly smile, she asked Jenna to sign the attendance sheet and offered her some water. Jenna politely declined, and Megan guided her through the carpeted hallway to a rehearsal room.
She opened the door and leaned her head inside. “Jenna Ortega is here,” she announced, then motioned for her to enter.
Jenna stepped in and took in the room: spacious, filled with natural light, and lined with white panels. On one end, a professional camera was already recording, in front of it, a plain backdrop and a strip of blue tape on the floor marked where the actor or actress should stand.
On the opposite side, there was a table with three people, each reviewing a script. Jenna recognized them instantly.
Elijah Bynum, the director, with his usual calm demeanor.
Cristian, an A24 producer, who had already risen to greet her with a smile.
And beside him, the casting director, Laura, a woman with curly hair and glasses.
“Good morning, thanks for coming, a pleasure to meet you,” Cristian said, extending his hand.
Jenna returned the gesture with a smile.
Elijah also stood, shaking her hand. “Jenna, great to have you here.”
Laura did the same.
“Thank you for inviting me and considering me for the role,” Jenna replied politely.
Elijah spoke up immediately. “You earned it. I saw your work in The Fallout and X, incredible range,” he said sincerely.
Jenna thanked him with a nod and a small smile. It felt good to be recognized for her work.
The atmosphere was surprisingly warm, not tense or impersonal like some auditions tended to be. There was respect, and a calm energy in the room.
Elijah returned to his seat, flipped through a few pages of the script, and pointed to the tape mark on the floor. “We can begin whenever you’re ready,” he said in a steady tone.
The camera was already rolling.
Jenna nodded, stepped to the marked spot, and took a deep breath. She knew every movement would be recorded, later, the team would analyze the footage again and again, comparing gestures, silences, and subtle choices with those of the other candidates. That’s how final tests worked: everything was filmed for later review before making the final decision.
The three scenes she had to perform had been sent to her days earlier. For confidentiality, she didn’t have the full script, only the fragments the director deemed essential to evaluate the character’s depth.
The first two were exchanges between Aimee and Sutter, though in this phase Owen wasn’t participating yet. The goal was to assess her emotional range, not their chemistry.
For fifteen minutes, Jenna performed and repeated the first scene under Elijah’s direction. Then they moved on to the second, a more intimate moment for the character.
Nearly forty minutes passed in adjustments, pauses, and repetitions. Finally, Elijah set the script down on the table and looked at her.
“How would you define Aimee?” he asked, interlacing his fingers.
Jenna took only a second before answering, without hesitation.
“I think Aimee is romantic, innocent, and trusting. But not naive,” she said firmly. “She has intuition, she just doesn’t always follow it. At first she’s invisible, the complete opposite of Sutter, but deep down, her real motivation is to be seen and loved.”
The silence that followed was brief but meaningful. Elijah regarded her for a few seconds, slowly nodding. Cristian raised an eyebrow, intrigued, while Laura exchanged a glance with him.
It was impressive that Jenna had grasped so much from the limited material she’d received.
Finally, Elijah gave a faint smile. “Excellent answer,” he said, without embellishment.
Laura leaned slightly toward the coordinator waiting by the door. “You can go get Owen,” she said quietly.
The woman nodded, stood up, and left the room.
…
POV Jenna Ortega
My answer about how I would define Aimee was good.
Or at least I think it was… unless I’m overestimating my ability to read people.
I always analyze my characters in depth, even when I only have a few scenes and don’t even know if I’ll get the part. I like imagining beyond what’s written, building them from what isn’t on the page.
Sometimes it’s pointless, I lose the audition anyway, but I still enjoy doing it. And when a director asks something like that, like today, all that extra work becomes useful.
For now, I think things are going well.
I noticed how Elijah watched every detail, how he asked me to repeat the scene with different tones or improvise a pause. That kind of direction is usually a good sign: it means he wants to see more, not that he’s already bored.
Now all that was left was the final part: the chemistry test.
I was waiting for Owen’s arrival. The guy of the moment, the one everyone in Hollywood had been talking about since early September.
He was my age, but only this year had he begun building his career. And yet he already had a story that sounded like a movie: he wrote, starred in, and financed his own film with just twenty thousand dollars, and now that film had surpassed twenty million at the box office.
I won’t lie: I was curious. Not about the sudden fame, but about his actual skill as an actor.
There was no doubt about his talent as a screenwriter: three short films with millions of views, all accepted by Short of the Week, and two feature films to his name.
But as a performer, it was different. I never watched Paranormal Activity, so I couldn’t judge his work there, though critics said his acting felt too real.
I did see Paperman and The Black Hole. Together they added up to less than ten minutes of footage, but even in that short time it was obvious he was good.
Still, it wasn’t enough to form a clear idea. Maybe he was a better writer than actor. Or the opposite. I honestly didn’t know, that’s what I hoped to discover in this chemistry test, or maybe I still wouldn’t.
“Would you like some water, Jenna?”
That question pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned and saw Cristian holding out a glass of water toward me.
“Yes, thanks,” I replied, taking the glass and sipping.
After nearly forty minutes talking, repeating scenes in different tones, hydration was welcome.
I handed the glass back to him, and I couldn’t help but notice how surprisingly kind Cristian was for a producer. I’d met several, and they usually barely bothered to be polite, but he carried a professional courtesy that felt genuinely sincere.
At that moment, the door opened, and I immediately turned toward it. The coordinator stepped in, followed by Owen, laughing at something I hadn’t caught.
He had a more neutral expression, though he clearly responded with brief comments that made her laugh again.
There he was in person, not in a photo, not in a short film, clip, or interview.
He wore an oversized black T-shirt with a white stripe on one sleeve, dark athletic pants, and white sneakers. His black hair was perfectly tousled, a strand falling over his forehead. He had sharp features, a defined jawline, pale skin, and light-colored eyes.
I couldn’t guess his exact height, but he had to be around six feet tall, maybe a little more. Tall, but well-proportioned.
I have to admit he had presence. His appearance alone was striking, one of the most striking I’d seen in person. He reminded me of those young DiCaprio photos, though Owen’s eyes were larger and his expression far calmer and more contained.
When his gaze met mine, he walked over and extended his hand naturally. “Owen Ashford, pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice calm and clear.
I shook his hand. His gesture was professional, with no trace of arrogance. That surprised me a little.
Because if in less than a year you build an entire career, your movie blows up at the box office, you get a percentage of the profits, A24 has just bought one of your scripts to turn into a film, and on top of that you look like that, the most likely thing is that at least a bit of ego would show. Even just a little.
But that wasn’t the case. There was no sign of vanity in his attitude.
“Jenna Ortega. Likewise,” I replied.
“Good,” Elijah said from the table, script open. “Ready?”
We nodded almost at the same time. We positioned ourselves in front of the camera, the blue tape on the floor marking our spots.
“We’ll start with the second scene,” Elijah instructed, handing Owen a small gift box wrapped in newspaper.
It was the scene where Sutter and Aimee are about to head to the school dance. He’s in a tux, she’s in a dress, and they share a moment before getting into the car.
It’s a short conversation where Sutter gives Aimee that gift, a flask with alcohol.
It looks simple, but it says a lot, you can feel the connection, the dynamic, the chemistry between them.
“All right… ready…? Action!”
In my mind, I could already picture the scene: the car parked on the side of the road, the night of the dance, Aimee sitting on the car trunk while Sutter looks for the gift he wants to give her.
Here, there was no car, nothing. Just the white backdrop, the sound of the camera, and our imagination.
As soon as I heard action, I closed my eyes, and after a few seconds, I asked in a timid tone, “Can I look?”
“Not yet,” Owen replied.
His voice changed completely, carefree, relaxed, very natural.
A few seconds later, I felt him approach. “Now you can. Open your eyes.”
I opened them, and he was extending the small box toward me. A smile formed on my lips effortlessly as I looked at the gift.
“For you,” Owen said lightly. “My way of making up for not getting the limo to take us to the dance.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I said as I took the gift and examined it.
“I know,” Owen replied immediately. “But I wanted to,” he added with a slight smile, looking at me.
“I wrapped it myself,” he said.
“Wait,” I said, surprised, looking at him. “You wrapped it?”
“Yep. With newspaper. It took me forever,” Owen answered with mock solemnity. “How’d I do?”
“Great,” I replied, laughing. “Thanks. Although I still don’t know what’s inside.”
“You’re welcome. Open it,” he said, sounding impatient, as if he couldn’t wait for my reaction.
I opened it slowly, with a bit of ceremony, pretending to process what I was seeing. At that moment, Owen hummed an epic melody, as if the gift contained something heroic.
I couldn’t help smiling, and the best part was that I didn’t have to act, my laughter came out naturally, which made the moment feel more real.
“What? Seriously?” I asked, half amused and half surprised as I saw the contents of the box.
Owen nodded. “Yeah, totally,” he said proudly.
The script called for a kiss here, but we knew there wouldn’t be any physical contact, just a slight lean-in. Auditions never include contact.
“Thank you! I love it,” I said excitedly, taking out the flask. “Does it have my name on it?”
“Yeah. Personalized just for the lady,” Owen said, pulling out his own flask from his jacket.
“And you know what the best part is?” he asked, smiling.
“What is it?” I asked, then immediately raised a hand to stop him. “Wait, let me guess.”
I improvised a little, it wasn’t in the script, but it felt right. I moved the flask from side to side, pretending to examine it thoughtfully.
Owen looked at me with a raised eyebrow, amused, but didn’t interrupt.
“It’s full,” I said finally, as if uncovering a secret.
“Well done, detective. Yes… but not completely,” Owen replied, laughing. “I took a sip to check the quality.”
I laughed too. The naturalness between us felt real, effortless.
It was strange. I didn’t know him, but in that moment, it felt like we had rehearsed together for weeks.
We opened the flasks and lifted our hands in unison.
“Cheers,” I said.
“Cheers,” he echoed, tapping his flask lightly against mine.
“To you, Aimee Finecky.”
“To you, Sutter Keely,” I repeated softly, and we both took a sip from the flasks. I noticed mine had cold water.
There was a brief silence until Elijah’s voice cut in: “Cut. Well done.”
I returned to my normal expression and closed the flask. Owen did the same.
“Improvising already, huh?” Owen said, glancing at me. His tone wasn’t annoyed, more amused.
Yes, I had improvised.
In the original script, it was Sutter who said the flask was full and that this was the best part.
Aimee didn’t have that little guessing moment.
“Yes…” I replied, a bit unsure, “I thought it felt more natural for Aimee to figure it out on her own. The weight is different if the flask is empty or if it has something inside.”
For a moment, I thought I had crossed a line. Some directors or writers hate changes, no matter how small.
But Owen smiled, nodding with approval. “You’re right,” he said. “It felt much more authentic that way.”
His reaction relaxed me instantly. Elijah didn’t seem bothered either. On the contrary, he jotted down a quick note in the script margin and looked up.
“Perfect. Let’s do it once more, but with a bit more energy at the end,” he said calmly.
We repeated the scene a couple more times with slight adjustments, exploring different nuances, until Elijah was satisfied.
“All right. Let’s move on to the first scene.”
That was the one at the beginning of the story, the moment Sutter and Aimee meet for the first time.
When two completely different worlds collide: Sutter, after a party and drunk, is lying on someone’s lawn at six in the morning. Aimee, who’s working delivering newspapers, wakes him up, and that’s the start of their relationship.
During the next ten minutes, we worked on it several times, adjusting tone and rhythm.
Until finally the audition came to an end.
Laura, the casting director, thanked me for the work. Cristian, always kind, said it had been “an excellent read”; and Owen gave me a brief smile before simply saying, “It was a pleasure.”
“Likewise,” I replied.
The coordinator walked me back through the hallway. As I made my way toward the exit, I was still processing everything. I felt like I had done well.
And Owen had been professional. In every take his commitment was total, no signs of distraction or of trying to sabotage the chemistry.
In fact, I think we had a very good initial chemistry. This wasn’t my first chemistry read, and things don’t always flow this well.
That gave me respect for him.
I left the building and headed straight to the car. Evan drove me back to my apartment. I had done my part. Now all that remained was to wait.
Tuesday the 20th came, and there was no news. Normal. I figured I’d get an answer between three and five days. It’s quick, but it makes sense, the shoot starts in less than a month.
I have to admit I’m thinking about The Spectacular Now more than I expected. You’d think that after so many auditions you learn to manage the anxiety, but you never fully master it, and I really want this role.
More than other auditions where I was rejected, and even more than several roles I actually booked.
First, because it’s a lead role. And second, because I’d be working with A24 again, a studio I truly admire.
I had already worked with them on X, that low-budget slasher made for a million dollars, it was a great experience. Even relaxing, in a way.
That same afternoon, while checking Instagram, I saw a new headline. Once again, about Owen.
This time it wasn’t about Paranormal Activity or his already-released shorts. It said he had posted a story on his Second Take Films account, a story announcing he was releasing another short film.
“Seriously?” I murmured, surprised.
How can he keep up that pace of creating new things?
For a second I wondered if it was true or some fake rumor, but I opened Instagram and searched for his channel’s profile.
Second Take Films.
He had more than half a million followers. There was a story. I tapped his profile picture and it appeared:
A simple image.
A script resting on a table with the title in bold:
“Lights Out – Short Film.”
And below the script, a clear message:
“3 days ⏳”
I stared at the screen for a few seconds in silence.
It was real. Another new project. What surprised me wasn’t just that it was another one, it was the speed.
He had uploaded One-Minute Time Machine less than ten days ago, and he was already announcing another.
And they weren’t improvised or mediocre shorts, every one of them had millions of views and good reviews. He didn’t drop the quality of the writing, the directing, or the acting.
That’s what caught my attention the most.
I read the title again: Lights Out.
“Horror?” I murmured.
Maybe. Although up until now, none of his short films had been in that genre.
I sighed, a bit impressed, before locking my phone. Without thinking too much about it, I followed the channel’s account. And then I searched for his personal profile. Almost a million followers. I didn’t overthink it, I followed that one too.
I couldn’t help noticing the contrast. I had 7.4 million followers, and he was nearing one million. Not that I felt superior because of it, not at all, it was just something I observed with curiosity.
The difference was that he had gained almost all of that million in the last month, which was insane for someone who, until recently, didn’t even exist on Hollywood’s radar.
Thursday the 22nd, the answer I’d been waiting for finally arrived.
As soon as I woke up, around seven thirty in the morning, I got a call from Tracy. Her tone was calm and professional as always. She went straight to the point: A24 had chosen me.
'Yes…!' I screamed internally, thrilled.
“That’s great…” I said aloud, trying to downplay my excitement.
I didn’t want to sound too enthusiastic in front of Tracy, who always maintained impeccable composure. Our relationship was more professional than personal, she wasn’t the type to celebrate with screams or overly emotional congratulations.
We talked a bit more, and then the call ended.
“Did you hear that, Juan Antonio?” I said excitedly, grabbing my cat and lifting him high.
He meowed in annoyance, though he was already used to it.
The next day, the contract was signed. I didn’t have to show up in person. Tracy handled all the negotiations digitally with A24’s legal team.
That Friday, we had a short Zoom call where she explained the key points, shooting schedule, payments, bonuses, exclusivity clauses. After that, I signed everything digitally.
My salary: $200,000.
Not bad at all, especially considering that in X I had only earned about $40,000 back in 2021.
Even compared to Wednesday, which was a massive Netflix production with a budget of over 50 million, the difference wasn’t huge: I earned $240,000 total there, about $30,000 per episode. But Wednesday required months of work and an entirely different level of intensity.
Meanwhile, The Spectacular Now would only require four weeks of filming.
From a financial standpoint, it was an excellent deal. And it worked perfectly timing-wise: I would finish everything on November 12, fly back home on the 13th, just in time for the Wednesday premiere on the 16th.
After the digital signature, everything was done. It was official: I was going to star in an A24 film.
Comments
Zai
Did Owen grow because of his better nutrition or is Jenna just bad at judging height?
Amos
Great again. And I like the different POV. Jenna seems really cool also. Now to see MCs gf reaction and how it goes on.
