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SH - Chapter 11: Sophie's Curiosity
🕑 Added 2025-09-01 16:26:54 +0000 UTCMarch 15, 2022 – Day 2 of Shooting
[POV of Sophie]
The sound of the alarm woke me early in the morning. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the faint light seeping through the curtains.
Yesterday was a good first day on set. Better than I expected. I won’t lie, when I accepted this role, I didn’t have high expectations. An indie film with such a low budget didn’t promise much, but, surprisingly, I had fun.
I sat up in bed and ran a hand over my face, trying to shake off the sleep. But even now, freshly awake, the question was still there, buzzing in my head like an annoying mosquito.
Did Owen accept Alison’s invitation to dinner or not?
I don’t know why I care. I’ve known him for less than a month, and yet… there’s something about him that draws me in. And it’s not just that he’s attractive, though he is, it’s the way he carries himself.
He wrote the film. He financed it. He’s producing it. And he’s acting in it. That’s not something you see every day.
Being a producer isn’t the same as simply financing a project. An investor puts in money and waits for profit while others do the work. A producer is involved in every detail, choosing the crew, solving problems, keeping everything running. I respect him for that.
And the most surprising thing of all, to me and without a doubt to my mother, is that Owen is actually a good actor. A very good actor.
I know my mother doesn’t give him any credit. To her, this is a waste of time and money. She thinks Owen is making a mistake by putting everything into a low-budget film, that it’s a whim or irresponsibility. But I don’t see it that way.
Though I don’t want to fully admit it, I’m impressed by what I saw from him in rehearsals and, above all, during yesterday’s shoot. He’s serious when he needs to be, precise in every take. He doesn’t stumble, doesn’t forget lines. There’s a discipline in him I didn’t expect to find.
He reminds me a little of myself: competitive, meticulous, committed to what he does.
And, of course, he’s not boring either. His jokes lean more toward sarcasm than silliness, which I appreciate. I can’t stand people who try too hard to be funny.
But that doesn’t answer my question.
Did Owen accept Alison’s invitation to dinner or not?
I have to stop thinking about this. I don’t care.
I force myself to push the question out of my mind as I get out of bed and stretch my arms. A quick glance at the clock: 6:56 a.m. Later than I should have been up, but still enough time.
I change clothes with automatic movements, pulling on a pair of jeans and a comfortable T-shirt. Nothing too thought out, but enough to look presentable. I run a brush through my hair, taming a few stray strands, and leave the room.
The smell of coffee and toast greets me as I step into the kitchen. Mom is already there, as always, immaculate, wearing her expression of “late again.”
“Good morning,” I mumble, sitting down across from her.
“Good morning,” she replies, placing a plate of toast and scrambled eggs in front of me. “You look tired.”
“I slept fine,” I lie, grabbing a piece of toast. I don’t feel like starting the day with an analysis of my dark circles or my energy levels.
Mom doesn’t press. She just studies me for another second before sipping her coffee and turning her attention back to the copy of Paranormal Activity’s script Owen had given us so I could practice and memorize my lines.
“Do you remember your lines?” my mother asked, looking up again.
I raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that made the answer obvious. “Yes, Mom. I know them by heart.”
She nodded, as if she still needed to confirm it, and went back to her coffee.
“Today’s scenes are some of the most demanding,” I added, taking a bite of toast. “They’re from the end of the movie, when everything starts spiraling out of control.”
Matt had explained that after filming the scenes with the two supporting actors, it was best to tackle the harder scenes and leave the easier ones for the final days.
It made sense to me.
“Oh, how difficult,” my mother replied with clear irony.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.
“Yeah, because showing fear, fright, and tension is always a picnic,” I said and started scrolling through my phone.
I finished breakfast and, since I still had time, decided to go over the script again. Of course, I already knew it by heart, but better to be sure.
Ten minutes before eight, we arrived at Matt’s house and my mother rang the doorbell.
After a brief moment, the door opened, it was Owen who answered. Seeing his face for the first time that day, I couldn’t help but remember the question that had haunted my thoughts earlier that morning: Did he accept Alison’s invitation or not? The doubt hit me again without warning, just as our eyes met.
“Hello, come in,” Owen said with that professional, distant smile that barely masked the formality.
It wasn’t the relaxed, half-joking smile I had seen during yesterday’s shoot, or maybe I was just overthinking it.
It took me longer than I would have liked to react. “Hi,” my voice murmured, a little lower than I expected.
I can’t deny I feel a bit curious about Owen, but right now it doesn’t matter. I have to work.
…
[3rd POV]
Owen was in the master bedroom with Matt, Sophie, and the rest of the crew.
Ever since he had written the script for Paranormal Activity, he had been aware that the original film relied heavily on improvisation, without a rigid structure.
The original director and writer of the film, Oren Peli, had highlighted it as one of the key elements for making the dialogue feel “natural,” even without a script.
But for Owen, something about that approach never quite sat right. While improvisation had been successful at the time, he felt that the lack of structure left room for empty, or even boring, moments of tension.
He remembered that during the first readings of the original script, many scenes lacked a clear purpose, with characters delivering lines that contributed nothing, not to the plot, nor to building an emotional connection between the two main characters.
He knew this could work to create a “realistic” atmosphere, but in his mind, it wasn’t convincing. So he decided to make adjustments.
The script now included a more defined structure, with key moments where the characters interacted more coherently with their environment and with each other.
Instead of relying solely on improvisation, each scene had a clear objective, an emotional direction the characters had to follow. This way, the tension grew more organically, and the moments of horror felt more effective.
Moreover, Owen believed this approach would help the audience connect more with Drake and Katie.
Matt approached the crew with a smile, confirming the start of filming. “Alright, everyone in position?”
Everyone nodded.
Owen settled into the double bed next to Sophie. Both were already dressed in pajamas, ready for the scene. The camera was set on a piece of furniture, aimed at the open door and the bed.
“Action,” Matt called out, giving the signal.
Sophie and Owen pretended to sleep. The sound of their breathing filled the space, creating a soft, almost soothing rhythm, as the camera watched them in silence. The room seemed calm, but suddenly, Sophie stirred in bed, waking with a start.
She began breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Her gaze was fixed on a dark corner of the room, just beyond the half-open door. Something in the air had changed.
“Drake…” she whispered, her voice trembling but clearly alarmed. “Wake up!”
Owen, still half-asleep, sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he tried to understand what was happening.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty as he noticed the tension in the air. Sophie didn’t take her eyes off the spot where she felt something, or someone, was there.
“I… I heard it…” Sophie went on, each word broken by fear. “I heard it breathing. It’s right here…” she pointed toward the door, her finger trembling as it aimed at the void. “It’s here, Drake, I swear…”
Owen, still in a haze of half-consciousness, quickly got out of bed. He looked toward the door, his mind struggling to process the situation. With slow, cautious steps, he walked to the entrance of the room, making sure there was nothing strange in the hallway or at the threshold.
It was already clear that Drake was no longer as confident or joking as in the earlier scenes of the film, where he constantly cracked jokes and seemed eager to confront the entity.
He returned to the bed, but Sophie was still staring at the same spot, her breathing unsteady. She sobbed softly, trying to calm herself, but couldn’t fight off the fear consuming her.
Owen lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms. He felt the warmth of her body, but also her trembling. His hand brushed against her cheek, as if trying to transmit calm.
“Everything will be fine, Katie,” he said softly, looking into her eyes.
Their faces were so close he could feel her breath against his skin.
“Do you believe that?” Sophie asked, her voice shaky as she locked eyes with him.
“Yes… I promise,” Owen said, leaning in closer and kissing her gently, hoping to soothe her.
After a few seconds, “Cut!” Matt’s voice broke through the atmosphere of fear and tension.
Owen and Sophie snapped back to reality. They stayed locked in each other’s eyes for a moment, something strange hanging in the air between them.
Quickly, they pulled apart, each feeling a kind of discomfort that was hard to define.
Seeing them, Matt broke into a wide smile and clapped enthusiastically:
“That was amazing! The take was perfect, you two! The chemistry between you is incredible! With you guys, we’re going to make a great movie. It’s not common to have two actors of this level in such a low-budget project!”
“No offense, Owen,” he added with a small grin toward his friend, who returned the smile.
“It’s fine,” Owen said.
For Matt, the most important thing, besides having an interesting script, was that the main actors had a connection and good chemistry, something that would make the audience care about what happened to the characters.
Getting the actors to convey that unease, that tension, and making the audience feel empathy for them. But to achieve that, he needed good actors, and he had two.
“Alright, guys,” Matt continued, “We’re going to repeat this take three or four more times to make sure everything comes out perfect.”
'Of course, we’ll have to repeat this scene…' Owen thought, glancing sideways at Sophie.
Sophie glanced back at him as well. Both quickly looked away and settled back on the bed, waiting for Matt’s cue.
The day went by quickly. Four hours had passed since they began filming.
It was already noon, time for lunch.
They had an hour for their break, and everyone headed to the dining room of the house, which was equipped with a long wooden table.
Owen, Matt, Tyler, and Eric sat around the table.
Sophie pulled her mother aside into a hallway to speak without being overheard.
“Mom, why don’t we stay? Owen’s inviting the whole team to lunch. If we leave, we’ll have to pay for ourselves. Doesn’t make much sense, right? It’s an expense we can save,” Sophie said softly, though persuasively.
Margaret, who was always mindful of finances and their economic situation, paused for a moment to think about it.
“Alright, Sophie. Let’s stay then,” Margaret agreed.
“Great,” Sophie murmured, and her mother gave her a strange look, but said nothing.
Both of them headed to the table and sat with the others. Luckily for Margaret, the table was long enough to give her some personal space.
Matt, noticing Sophie and her mother joining the group, smiled at them from his seat.
“I’m glad you’re joining us. Order whatever you like, Owen’s treating,” Matt said, looking at Sophie and Margaret. Sophie nodded with a smile.
“Of course, thank you, Owen,” Sophie replied, looking at Owen.
“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do as your employer,” Owen answered with a small smile.
Sophie gave him a grateful smile, and Margaret, more reserved, simply nodded in silence.
At that moment, the food began to arrive from the delivery order, bringing a variety of quick and simple options. Meanwhile, the conversation at the table split: Matt, Tyler, and Eric were immersed in reminiscing about old stories, as the three of them were longtime friends.
Sophie, on the other hand, spent her time talking with her mother. Though she seemed interested in what her mother had to say, her gaze often drifted toward Owen, who was lost in his own world.
He was seated at the end, completely focused on the script. He didn’t seem very interested in the others’ conversation. With his pen, he was frantically crossing out and writing notes on the pages. If he had time to improve the script, even just a little, he would do it. This project had to succeed, otherwise, he’d be in a financially complicated situation.
One option to make money was to write a script and sell it. He had many movies he had seen that he could bring into this alternate world, but it wasn’t an easy task to get a script recognized and bought.
At that moment, Matt pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Hey, Owen, did you go out to dinner with Alison yesterday?” he asked curiously.
Sophie tensed up when she heard Matt’s question. That was the very question that had been circling in her mind since she woke up that morning. She couldn’t help but feel intrigued.
Owen looked up from the script and answered calmly. “No, I didn’t go out with her. I barely know her, and I didn’t feel like going on a date right now, with the shoot just starting.”
“But you two seemed to get along pretty well. It was obvious there was some chemistry,” Matt said with a shrug, half-joking.
'Chemistry?' Sophie thought, unable to stop herself from glancing at Matt and frowning slightly. From her perspective, all she had seen between Owen and Alison was him being polite, nothing more.
“At what point did you see that? There’s nothing between Alison and me,” Owen said, shaking his head with a faint smile.
For some reason Sophie herself couldn’t understand, she felt a wave of relief upon hearing Owen’s reply.
After lunch, filming resumed and eventually wrapped up for the day. In this way, the days of the Paranormal Activity shoot went by at a brisk pace.
