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SH - Chapter 52: New short film
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 17:05:01 +0000 UTC“One-Minute Time Machine?” Sarah repeated the title, her tone filled with surprise as she stared at the short film script in front of her.
And especially because of what Owen had said: this is your next step.
Did her brother want her to act in one of his short films? Had he already made another one? It was already impressive enough that he’d created Paperman and The Black Hole, not to mention the two feature-length scripts.
“Yes, a short film,” Owen nodded, sitting back down and taking a sip of tea as if it were the most casual thing in the world.
“Did you write it?” Sarah asked, still astonished as she opened the script.
“No, I stole it and put my name on it,” Owen replied sarcastically.
Sarah rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the spark of curiosity igniting in her. She started reading, growing more excited with every line.
Her brother had once told her that someday he’d give her a role, but she hadn’t expected that passing her evaluation would earn her one, and so soon.
It wasn’t a feature film, of course, but Owen’s short films already carried real weight.
The Black Hole had reached 1,040,200 views, with an extremely high like ratio and hundreds of positive comments. Accepted on Short of the Week, it had been released almost four months ago and was still gaining traction.
Meanwhile, Paperman had gone even more viral. Since its release just 52 days ago, it had already accumulated 1,420,000 views on YouTube, more likes, more comments, people loving it, and plenty of buzz in the indie short film circuit.
Owen’s YouTube channel already had a loyal following eagerly awaiting his next project.
Sarah knew that appearing in one of those shorts could give her massive exposure, add real experience to her résumé, and, most importantly, let her work on a quality production instead of wasting time with amateur projects or low-level auditions.
Elizabeth, sitting next to her, began reading too. The two girls flipped through page after page, occasionally stifling a laugh.
One-Minute Time Machine was a short film that, in Owen’s original reality, had been a phenomenon on the festival circuit and on YouTube. It ran for only five and a half minutes but had amassed over fifteen million views online. With just two actors and a simple setting, it had captivated audiences with its cleverness, pacing, and final twist.
In that original version, the main character was played by Brian Dietzen, 37, and the co-star by Erinn Hayes, 38. The story revolved around James, a man trying to impress, and win over, a woman he meets in a park. His secret weapon was a small time machine that allowed him to go back exactly one minute. If he messed up, he pressed a red button and tried again… over and over.
The premise blended light science fiction and romantic comedy, with a mildly risqué tone: several lines and gestures played with more adult innuendo, fitting for the characters’ age and context.
Owen had taken that concept and rewritten every line that might come off too suggestive. Not out of censorship, but because he wanted his 17-year-old sister to play Regina, the female protagonist.
Instead of risqué double entendres, James’s blunders were now built around absurd comments and goofy misunderstandings, forcing him again and again to hit the red button and rewind a minute to avoid ruining his flirting attempts.
Now, Regina wasn’t an adult woman in some city park, but a first-year college student, around 18 to 20 years old, passionate about science and sitting with a quantum physics book open on her lap. That would be Sarah’s role.
James, for his part, went from being a thirty-something office worker with a frustrated air to a 20-year-old nerdy, self-taught kid who built a time machine. Owen even changed his name from James to Nick.
Elizabeth looked up from the script and smiled. “It’s brilliant. It’s simple, but you can tell it’s very well thought out.”
“Thanks,” Owen replied with a half-smile.
Sarah finished the last page and looked at him, her eyes shining with excitement. “It’s amazing… Do you really want me to play Regina? I mean, there are only two characters! I didn’t think you’d give me a lead role so soon.”
“Of course,” Owen nodded. “You earned it this month. Everything’s almost ready, Matt will direct, we’ve got a sound guy, a lighting tech… I’ll be supervising everything. We’ll test out the new equipment I bought, along with what Matt and I already have.”
Then Owen opened his backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper, placing it in front of Sarah. She took it, began to read, and froze.
“Is this what I think it is?” Sarah asked, staring at him, unable to hide her shock.
In bold letters, it read: Performer Contract – SAG Short Project Agreement.
“Yes,” Owen said calmly. “I’ve already registered the short under SAG-AFTRA. It’ll count as a professional credit for you.”
Sarah and Elizabeth looked through the contract. It listed two shooting days, five hours each, and a payment of $1,500 for Sarah, split into two halves of $750, paid after each day of filming.
“This… is a lot for my first role, and a lead one at that,” she murmured, looking at her brother with a mix of awe and gratitude.
Elizabeth looked up at Owen with pride and warmth. “It seems that when you were filming The Hunger Games, you didn’t just focus on acting.”
Owen smiled slightly. “I made good use of my downtime. And if I want to have my own production company someday, making films with much bigger budgets, I need to sharpen my skills as a producer. This is good practice.”
His mother and sister exchanged surprised looks but didn’t doubt him, given his track record and the fact that he kept writing new scripts.
“So, do you accept or not?” Owen asked.
“Of course I do!” Sarah exclaimed, grabbing a pen as fast as someone diving for the last slice of pizza. She signed without thinking twice, without even rereading the contract.
“We start Wednesday the seventeenth?” she asked, grinning from ear to ear.
Between Wednesday and Thursday the eighteenth, the short film would be finished, just before Sophie returned on the 19th.
“Yes, as the contract says. I’ll pick you up ten minutes before ten a.m.,” Owen nodded, signing his part and carefully storing the document.
That’s when it fully hit Sarah. She wasn’t just going to star in a short film without an audition, something many aspiring actresses would kill for, but her own brother would personally drive her to the set.
And to top it off, she knew the minimum SAG-AFTRA rate for a short film was around $200, yet Owen was paying her $1,500 for just two five-hour days of work.
Even though they came from an upper-class family, earning $1,500 from her own work felt entirely different.
“Thanks,” Sarah whispered before throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.
Owen hugged her back but smirked. “You’re welcome, but you’d better do a good job. I’m spending over eight grand on this short, and no matter how good the script is, if either of the two leads messes up, it’ll be a bad film, and they’ll accuse me of nepotism.”
He said the last part jokingly, though with an implicit warning.
“I’ll do it well,” Sarah replied, her tone serious and full of determination that left no room for doubt.
“I hope so.”
“And who’s going to play Nick?” Sarah asked, looking at her brother.
“We’ll decide on Monday,” Owen replied. “Matt and I already did the preselection. We posted the casting call on Backstage and got a ton of submissions. We picked five finalists to see in person on Monday. They’re between eighteen and twenty, and we’re looking for someone with that nervous nerd vibe, someone who’ll match well with you on screen.”
Sarah nodded enthusiastically several times, then suddenly widened her eyes as she realized something. “So that gives me today, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday to learn the lines and the expressions.”
She stood up, holding the script carefully. “This is my copy, right?”
“Yes, keep it,” Owen confirmed.
“Perfect. Then I’m going to my room to practice,” she said with a quick smile before heading toward the stairs.
Owen watched her go, the script clutched tightly against her chest. A faint smile curved his lips. One of the things he liked most about Sarah was her attitude.
Even though the Ashfords belonged to an upper-class family, Sarah had always been grateful and hardworking. Another girl, raised with the same comforts and a brother willing to hand her opportunities, might have taken it for granted, almost like a given right.
Sarah, on the other hand, truly appreciated it and wanted to give her best.
Owen knew that was thanks to the upbringing Elizabeth and Edward had given them. James, their older brother, was the same way, tirelessly dedicated, which was why he’d become an excellent lawyer with a spotless academic record.
As for the original Owen, he hadn’t had that same spark. Maybe because his natural talent for acting came so easily, he never felt the need to push himself too hard.
Elizabeth, who had followed the entire exchange in silence, smiled with pride. Seeing Owen writing and producing another short film, and giving his sister such a big opportunity, filled her chest with joy.
“I’m glad to see you like this,” she said. “Not just because you’re doing something great, but because you’re helping your sister.”
“It’s nothing, Mom. We’re family,” Owen replied naturally.
Elizabeth looked at him, a nostalgic gleam in her eyes as she remembered her own dreams from years ago.
“Well… since you’re feeling so generous, maybe you could get me a role in one of your next projects,” she joked.
Owen raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I actually had one in mind, anoter short film.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in surprise. “I was only joking… It’s been ages since I stood in front of a camera.”
“Mom, I’ve seen you helping Sarah rehearse,” Owen said. “You’d do great. Of course, I’m not going to force you, but I think it’d be a nice way to start again, if you want. I don’t have the full script yet, but it’s short, and I think it’d suit you perfectly.”
Elizabeth looked at him in silence until she couldn’t help but smile. “Your chances of being accused of nepotism just keep going up.”
Owen laughed and said, “I’m willing to take that risk.”
He stayed another hour at his parents’ house.
Monday arrived, and with it, the auditions for Nick, the male lead of the short film that would mark the beginning of Sarah’s acting career.
Comments
Frédéric De souza
❤️Thank you for that moment.❤️
John Bose
Thanks for the chapter!
