The production office buzzed with energy. After weeks of searching, scouting, and casting, the *City of Stars* team had finally entered a new phase: solidifying what they had built.
Papers were stacked high across the desks. Contracts were printed and passed across tables. One by one, the newly chosen cast members arrived to sign their agreements — a mix of hopeful expressions and silent determination. Some were visibly nervous, others excited, but all were unknowns given their first real chance.
"Don't lose these," Lance said, handing Adrian a folder. "Signed contracts. Our cast is locked."
Adrian nodded, carefully sliding the folder into a drawer.
Kai was in the corner, triple-checking documents and taking photos of ID cards. "Legal requirements are squared. I've filed everything under each actor's name and cross-checked against SAG-indie guidelines."
"Props?" Adrian asked, glancing over at Jom.
"In progress," Jom replied, wiping sweat off his forehead. "I've got a theater prop guy who's lending us a piano and vintage costumes for cheap. I also found a lighting technician who's worked on college plays. Got him for under ₱25,000."
"Good," Adrian said. "Every peso matters."
They gathered briefly around the whiteboard, where a detailed spreadsheet now hung — crew names, scene plans, set deadlines. The dream was becoming a blueprint.
---
That night, the trio sat down in their small editing room and turned on the camera.
"Are we really doing this?" Kai asked, adjusting the focus.
Jom grinned. "Too late to chicken out now."
Adrian sat center, a dark hoodie over his shirt, and looked into the lens.
"Hi, everyone," he began. "I'm Adrian Rivera, director of the short film *Voicemail*. You may have seen it—or maybe you haven't. But we're here because we've just finished casting our next project: *City of Stars*."
The video was short—two minutes of raw honesty. Adrian talked about their vision, about giving unknown actors a platform, and about proving that passion could outweigh experience. He thanked those who had supported them, and those still skeptical.
"We know the risks. But we believe this story deserves to be told. And we're inviting you to be part of it."
---
They uploaded the video that evening.
By morning, it had gone viral—at least locally.
Comments flooded in.
> *"Who even are these guys?"*
> *"They're making a musical? That's impossible on ₱10M."*
> *"Support indie cinema! Go, Adrian!"*
> *"No big names? No experience? This will flop."*
> *"This might just be the spark we need."*
Within a day, the comment section turned into a battleground. Twitter threads and Facebook posts split audiences into two camps: those who admired the boldness, and those who questioned the arrogance.
---
At noon, Adrian sat alone in a quiet restaurant near the university belt, scrolling through notifications when a voice interrupted him.
"Excuse me," the woman said softly.
He looked up.
The woman had short black hair tucked beneath a beret and wore a smart dark coat despite the heat. She bowed slightly and presented a business card.
"Sakura Film International. My name is Mina Kuroda. May I sit with you?"
Adrian blinked, caught off guard. "You found me."
She smiled politely. "It wasn't easy."
He gestured for her to sit.
"I came after watching *Voicemail*," she explained. "It moved our selection panel. We're officially inviting you to showcase the film at our event in Tokyo."
Adrian leaned forward. "Really?"
"Yes. It's a curated program, mostly by invitation only. Emerging directors. Unique voices. You meet all the criteria."
He nodded slowly, letting it sink in.
"I accept," he said after a long breath. "But... when does it start?"
"Three weeks from now," she replied. "We'll cover your accommodations and travel. We also encourage a short Q\&A session afterward. Bring whoever helped you."
Adrian's mind raced—Tokyo, international exposure, and the eyes of major producers. This could change everything.
"I'll be there," he said quietly.
---
That evening, back at the office, Adrian updated the others.
"Wait, Tokyo?" Jom blinked. "As in Japan?"
Kai laughed. "Dude, we're going global."
Lance raised an eyebrow. "Are we pushing the *City of Stars* shoot?"
"No," Adrian said firmly. "We'll shoot around it. This might bring in even more attention. It's worth it."
He looked again at the calendar. Only three weeks to prepare. A film to shoot. A trip to Japan. A sister arriving tomorrow. A team of nobodies with a dream.
The pressure mounted.
But so did the momentum.
The stars were aligning — and now, the whole world was beginning to watch.(End chapter)