Nathe07
patreon
SH - Chapter 62: Unusual
🕑 Added 2025-11-19 16:44:26 +0000 UTCA24 Offices – Los Angeles
11:25 a.m.
The midday light streamed cleanly through the large windows, bathing the office in an even glow. The space was wide but understated: white walls, a light-wood desk, a bookshelf with a few film books, some discreet awards on the lower shelves, and a plant to one side that broke the monotony of the room.
There were no paintings, no unnecessary decorations. Just an open laptop, a couple of stacked folders, and a half-cold cup of coffee.
David Fenkel worked in silence, focused on pages filled with budgets and box office projections. Every so often he typed something quickly or turned a page with a distracted gesture.
The faint murmur from the hallway barely filtered through the closed door.
A soft knock interrupted his workflow.
“Come in,” David said, looking up.
The door opened carefully, and Cristian peeked his head in before stepping fully inside.
“The meeting with Owen and his agent just finished,” he announced with a restrained smile.
David leaned back slightly in his chair and set his pen aside.
“Perfect,” he replied calmly, motioning toward the chair in front of him so Cristian could sit.
Cristian closed the door behind him and settled into the seat, while David shut his laptop to give him his full attention.
Cristian began recounting the details of the final deal: the $225,000 salary, with the possibility of reaching nearly $300,000 if the film hit certain box office targets and festival recognitions.
He also explained the terms regarding credits: Owen would be officially listed as the screenwriter, though the rights to the script belonged entirely to A24 after the full acquisition of the material.
“Perfect. Good clauses, and the salary is solid,” David nodded after hearing everything.
“It is,” Cristian agreed. “If we had hired Elordi or Hedges, the cost would’ve been much higher. Easily between $250,000 and $350,000, not counting box office or festival bonuses. Especially in Elordi’s case.”
David nodded again, unsurprised.
He knew very well the agents representing that kind of more commercial talent: the most powerful agencies in Hollywood, famous for their aggressive negotiations and for squeezing every last dollar out of any budget, no matter if the film was aiming for critical prestige or festival attention and had a small budget.
Bringing in Elordi would have meant not only a higher salary, but additional demands: specific suites, private transportation, and a PR team monitoring every step.
With Owen, everything was simpler. He was more accessible and very professional considering his age, and the fact that he only had an independent agent. On top of that, he offered something the other three could never bring: intellectual property, organic marketing, and creative prestige.
The film didn’t just carry his signature as the writer, it also benefited from his name, from the phenomenon Paranormal Activity was becoming, and from the media interest surrounding him.
A24 was getting the best of both worlds: an emerging talent who already generated attention and conversation, and a cost low enough to preserve the profit margin that characterized the company.
“Although, honestly,” David murmured after a brief silence, “we could’ve paid him a bit more.”
Cristian smiled, amused, “I don’t usually see you being this generous with numbers,” he said lightly.
David looked at him with a slight smile, not denying it. Cristian had known him for more than five years, they had worked together since A24 was barely a studio with the reputation of a promising newcomer.
Of the three founders, David had always been the most analytical, the one who kept everyone grounded when the excitement of art threatened to outweigh financial logic.
He loved cinema, yes, but he also understood something many people forgot: bills aren’t paid with awards or applause.
He knew that not every film could be an auteur gamble or a poetic experiment, some simply needed to make their money back. It was a cold reality, sometimes even a sad one, but inevitable.
“Owen is different,” he said at last, breaking the silence. “You know that.”
Cristian nodded without hesitation.
David continued, leaning his elbows on the desk, “He built a résumé in less than a year. One feature film of his own, three viral shorts, a script sale that’s now in production… and on top of that, he managed to end up as the lead actor, almost as if he planned it. He’s a storyteller. You don’t see that every day, especially not at this pace.”
His tone wasn’t that of an executive impressed by numbers, but of someone recognizing an anomaly in the system. “If he had done only Paranormal Activity, it would already be major news, something that happened before with Blair Witch, Saw, Clerks… What surprises me is that Owen didn’t stop there. He keeps launching projects, building an artistic identity and a digital brand from scratch.”
David lowered his voice a bit, almost as if thinking out loud.
“At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up setting up his own production company. Not out of vanity… but for creative control.”
Cristian agreed. A24’s internal projections estimated a final box office of between 50 and 60 million dollars for Paranormal Activity.
Both of them knew that Owen had 20% of the backend after theatrical, which would amount to a personal gain of five to six million dollars. A twenty-year-old who, in less than a year, would become a millionaire after investing only twenty thousand.
Seen from that perspective, he was practically a unique case in recent independent cinema.
Cristian thought about it for a moment. There were many cases of young filmmakers who found success with a single film, made money and then disappeared for years. Some took their time, others simply didn’t know what to do next.
But Owen was different. Even now, when he could slow down and enjoy the moment, he continued working without pause. Project after project, idea after idea.
“You’re right. Everything about him seems calculated. He’s a storyteller with a producer’s instinct, and he’s also a good actor. It’s not common to see all three traits in one person, especially someone that young,” Cristian finally said.
With someone like that, the best strategy was to keep him as close as possible. Who knew what new projects he might launch once he received the Paranormal Activity money? And even if he eventually decided to create his own production company, almost inevitable if he sought full creative control, he would still need someone to handle distribution and marketing, to get his films to the right audience.
A24 could be exactly that: his strategic partner, not an obstacle. If they played their cards right, Owen could have the freedom he wanted while still keeping A24 as his creative home, the place where his ideas found shape and commercial release.
“In the next few days the candidates for the female lead arrive, right?” David asked, changing the subject as he flipped through some documents.
“Yes,” Cristian replied, shifting in his seat. “It’s a short list, only four candidates. All with tight schedules, but confirmed for in-person auditions.”
He began talking to him about each one:
1. Emilia Jones, 20 years old.
The most prestigious of the group in critical terms. Lead actress of CODA, winner of the Oscar for Best Picture just a few months ago. Her performance was essential to the film’s success and positioned her as one of the most respected young actresses of her generation. For A24, she represents pure prestige within the youth demographic.
2. Jenna Ortega, 19 years old.
Her rise has been meteoric. In The Fallout (2021, HBO Max) she displayed remarkable emotional range, earning praise at SXSW. She then solidified her commercial profile with Scream 5 (January 2022, Paramount), where she stood out as Tara Carpenter, and that same year appeared in X (March 2022, A24), a role widely noted by critics.
She has also already filmed Scream 6 (set for 2023) and a Netflix series directed by Tim Burton, soon to be released. Her career blends independent prestige with mainstream visibility, something A24 values highly.
3. Lili Reinhart, 26 years old.
Known primarily for her role as Betty Cooper on Riverdale, a series where she has been one of the leads since 2017. She has a solid fan base and proven experience in both television and film. She represents a more mature, stable profile with her own audience, though perhaps a bit older for the film’s teen tone.
4. Sophie Thatcher, 20 years old.
Female lead of Paranormal Activity (2022, A24) alongside Owen. Her performance was widely praised, showing an intense and believable emotional progression, with moments of real psychological terror.
She later confirmed her versatility in Paperman, the viral romantic short written and produced by Owen, where she displayed natural expressiveness and refined body language.
She recently finished shooting The Boogeyman (20th Century Studios / Warner), where she is the star. With a budget of 35 million dollars, it is shaping up to be her first major role in a studio production, still awaiting release.
...
“They’re very different profiles, but all of them interesting,” Cristian concluded.
“And which one is your favorite?” David asked with genuine curiosity.
Cristian crossed his arms and let out a slight sigh before answering.
“I have my preferences, of course, but the decision belongs to the director. I’m not going to interfere,” he said in a neutral tone.
At A24, that rule was practically sacred: the director had the final creative word.
Cristian, as producer, had already done his part. His job was to assemble a viable list, balancing talent, cost, and availability.
All four actresses fit within the budget range; each had an estimated salary the studio could handle without compromising the shooting plan. From that point on, the responsibility passed to the director and to the camera tests and chemistry readings with Owen.
David nodded. “Yes, I know,” he replied with a half-smile. “Just asking out of curiosity.”
Cristian thought for a few seconds before answering.
“Well… the one I’m least convinced by is Lili Reinhart,” he said at last. “She has talent and experience, but her age gives her a more mature aura. She’s still young, of course, and there are plenty of cases of older actors working well in teen roles, but I just can’t fully see her here.”
David nodded with understanding.
Cristian continued, mentally sorting through the remaining options.
“In the top three I’d put Emilia Jones. She’s excellent, very complete as an actress, with a calm presence and a huge emotional range. But she’s also likely the most expensive of the four. CODA gave her prestige, and that automatically raises her quote. And there’s something that worries me: she might overshadow Owen.”
“That’s true about the cost,” David replied thoughtfully, “though I’m not sure I agree about overshadowing. Paranormal Activity is turning Owen into a media phenomenon. Every day there’s a new article about the box office and how he’s behind the film and already becoming a millionaire. It’s an almost impossible story…”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“Emilia had her Oscar-winning movie, but CODA barely made two million on a ten-million budget. What Owen has is popular impact, something growing day by day. I’d say they’re on different planes: she’s critical prestige, he’s impact that’s about to go mainstream.”
Cristian nodded, conceding the point, “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe rather than competing, they could complement each other. Same age, both very talented. They’d make an interesting duo.”
He paused, thinking.
“In reality, I don’t have a clear first place. Jenna and Sophie are very close in my mind. Ortega’s role in The Fallout reminds me a lot of Aimee’s essence, it’s not the same, but it carries that same quietness. And her profile is rising quickly; she’s becoming more visible without losing artistic credibility.”
David nodded in agreement.
“On the other hand, Sophie has one undeniable advantage: her chemistry with Owen. They’ve already proven they work well together, both in horror and in Paperman, where they carried a romantic story without a single line of dialogue. They trust each other, and that can speed up the shoot and elevate the natural feel of the scenes,” he concluded.
David gave a half-smile, “I’d put Sophie first,” he said calmly. “Beyond everything you mentioned, her acting range is very solid and her price too. She has just the right résumé: experienced, but likely less costly than the other three.”
Cristian glanced at him sideways, with a faint ironic smile, “You’re not saying that just to keep Owen happy, knowing she’s his girlfriend, are you?”
David chuckled softly, not bothered, and not fully denying it.
“Maybe,” he said. “But either way, I’m staying out of it. Elijah will decide. If he prefers Lili, Jenna or Emilia, he’s completely within his rights.”
Cristian nodded, satisfied. He stood up, adjusting his tie slightly.
“Well, I have to get back to my office and make the calls to the actors who auditioned for the male lead and didn’t make it.”
“Good luck with that,” David said as he opened his laptop and returned to his previous work.
...
Los Angeles – 11:42 a.m.
The phone of Christian Donatelli, an agent at Gersh, vibrated in the right pocket of his pants. He pulled it out immediately and answered without even checking who was calling.
“Hello, Cristian,” he greeted in a cordial, neutral tone, with a hint of expectation in his voice.
But the news he was waiting for didn’t come.
“Mm… I see… alright… goodbye.”
The call didn’t last more than two minutes. When he hung up, he exhaled in frustration and slipped the phone back into his pocket, his brow slightly furrowed.
“Well, that was quick,” he muttered.
A few meters away, Jacob Elordi was sitting in front of the mirror at a makeup station. A makeup artist was adjusting the final touches before a fashion-magazine photoshoot. Seeing his agent’s expression reflected in the mirror, he knew the call hadn’t brought good news.
“What happened?” Jacob asked without moving.
Christian stepped closer, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall.
“It was A24,” he said bluntly. “They just told me: you didn’t get The Spectacular Now.”
Jacob nodded silently. He wasn’t surprised, but he was disappointed.
He had wanted that role. Not for the money or exposure, he had plenty of that thanks to Euphoria, but because it was a more intimate story, and he genuinely liked the lead character and his arc. The part would have allowed him to step out of the heartthrob mold and show a different register.
“Did they say who got it?” he asked after a few seconds.
Christian shook his head, “No, they haven’t made it official yet. But we can take a guess, it’s not going to be very hard,” he said with a slightly disdainful tone.
Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Owen Ashford?”
“The most logical choice,” Christian nodded. “A24 has him in their pocket right now. Paranormal Activity keeps skyrocketing. And he wrote the script for this new movie himself. He’s their golden boy at the moment.”
Jacob lifted his chin as the makeup artist adjusted the collar of his shirt, “Makes sense. If his movie is making them that much money, they’ll want to keep him happy.”
“Probably… and since he’s the screenwriter of this film, the casting was pure formality. They likely already knew he was going to star in it. The auditions were just to keep up appearances,” Christian said, his tone dry.
Even without an official confirmation, they both knew the role belonged to Owen. Everything pointed to him.
Jacob let out a short, quiet laugh, not bitter, but tinged with irony.
“Well… that’s how it works, right?” he said with a resigned gesture.
Christian gave him a sympathetic look, “You’ll have more opportunities. But for now, A24 is orbiting entirely around that kid. As long as he keeps generating headlines and money, they’re going to bet on him for everything.”
There was a brief silence until Jacob asked, almost with genuine curiosity, “Have you gone to see Paranormal Activity?”
Christian shook his head. “No. You?”
Jacob smiled faintly. “Me neither. But I have to. I saw the trailer and honestly… it’s insane they made something like that with only twenty thousand dollars. On Euphoria I get paid way more than that per episode.”
He wasn’t lying. In the second season of Euphoria he earned $100,000 per episode across eight episodes. He made $800,000 for the entire season.
Christian nodded with a short expression, “Yeah, and it’s already at thirteen million at the box office.”
Jacob nodded. Thirteen million wasn’t an astonishing number compared to big studio films, but in proportion it was crazy: more than six hundred and fifty times its original budget.
There were Oscar-nominated films that didn’t even make back their investment, and even if commercial success wasn’t the only metric to measure a film by, the achievement was undeniable. Paranormal Activity wasn’t just selling tickets: it also had strong critical reception.
On Rotten Tomatoes it had already surpassed 80% with critics, while audiences rated it even higher, with an 83% approval score.
“And it’s only going to grow. With Halloween around the corner, it’ll climb even more. Rumor is they’ll release it internationally too,” Christian said with a sigh.
“What’s most impressive is that he has a percentage of the box office,” Jacob remarked.
For an actor, securing backend points was something reserved for major stars, those with global negotiating power: Tom Cruise, Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie…
Christian nodded slowly.
“Yeah… that’s the truly impressive part,” he said. “He didn’t sell the movie, didn’t borrow money, didn’t bring in partners or financiers. All he needed was distribution, and A24 provided that. And he didn’t accept a fixed payment, he took a percentage of the box office.”
That kind of deal was extremely rare for someone with no prior backing.
In Hollywood, cases where an independent creator kept a chunk of the profits were very few.
A classic example was Saw. The film was created by James Wan (director) and Leigh Whannell (writer and actor). It started as an independent project, with a nine-minute short filmed to attract investors.
Eventually Evolution Entertainment financed the feature with $1.2 million, and Lionsgate handled distribution.
The deal, however, was not favorable for its creators. Wan and Whannell sold the full rights to the project and signed fixed-rate contracts with no profit participation.
Despite Saw grossing over $103 million, they only received modest initial salaries, just tens of thousands.
Another example: The Blair Witch Project.
Directed by Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sánchez, it was produced completely independently with a budget between $35,000 and $60,000, filmed in just eight days and edited over the course of a year.
At Sundance 1999, it was purchased by Artisan Entertainment for around $1.1 million, and the distributor took charge of the marketing campaign.
The film became a global phenomenon: it grossed more than $248 million, one of the highest returns on investment in history.
But, as with Saw, the creators had already sold the full rights before the release. In exchange, they received a fixed sum, between $300,000 and $750,000 according to reports, and later, small bonuses and symbolic percentages from home-video editions.
That was where the difference with Owen lay.
He didn’t seek financiers or sell rights: he funded the film himself, and when he met with A24 he didn’t offer the movie as a product for sale, but as a finished work that simply needed distribution.
That allowed him to keep full ownership and negotiate a direct share of the box office.
He also had the luck, or the instinct, to partner with A24, a studio with a strong reputation in independent film, far less aggressive than traditional distributors like Lionsgate or Artisan.
A24, with its more artistic and transparent approach, respected his authorship and treated him as a creative partner, not as a disposable asset.
“How much do you think he got from the box office?” Jacob asked, eyes still fixed on the mirror.
“It’s not known exactly, it’s not public,” Christian said, beginning to calculate mentally. “Some say he got 20% or more. I doubt it… A24 invested far more than the budget in marketing. So he should have between 10% and 12% of the net gross after theaters.”
Jacob looked at him through the mirror. “That much?”
“It’s possible,” Christian replied confidently. “And if it’s already made thirteen million, theaters keep half, so A24 and Owen split about six and a half million. If his deal is 10%, that’s $650,000; if it’s 12%, nearly $780,000.”
Jacob let out a soft, incredulous laugh, “All that with just ten days in theaters.”
The film still had at least seven or eight weeks of screenings ahead. It was insane.
Jacob, in his entire acting career spanning more than seven years, had managed to accumulate two million dollars.
Meanwhile, this practically unknown kid had broken every rule of the game in just a matter of months.
“All done, Jacob,” the makeup artist said suddenly, stepping back with a satisfied smile.
Jacob nodded, leaving the mirror behind. He adjusted his jacket, took a deep breath, and walked toward the back of the studio, where the photographer was waiting for him.
Comments
John Tross
go with Jenna
__arxoni __
Please choose jenna 🙏 🙏🙏
