Chapter 6: Shooting Location
The audition in the bedroom lasted well into the night. Eventually, the two of them went downstairs, hopped in Wayne's car, and drove to a convenience store to grab two packs of cigarettes, a pizza, and some cocktail umbrellas—his stash had run out that afternoon, and it was clear his stunning neighbor had no intention of leaving.
As Wayne sat on the balcony, munching on a slice of pizza and sketching out the storyboard, she lounged nearby in one of his white dress shirts, also eating pizza and flipping through the script.
"Wayne, I just called my agent," she said. "She'll be here tomorrow to sign the contract. You know, if it weren't for this role, I was about to fly back to Australia in a few days. Go back to doing goddamn soap operas and commercials to 'hone my craft'?"
Wayne kept drawing without even looking up. "Then don't screw it up. If you don't want to go crawling back home, this is important—for both of us. If this project tanks, I'll lose all my funding. And you? You'll be gone, too."
She pouted. "Don't you think it's getting late? Maybe I should show you another kind of 'performance.' Want to audition me again?"
Turning toward him with a playful smile, she lifted the hem of the oversized shirt, her eyes glinting with mischief. Slowly, she strutted toward the bathroom, hips swaying in an almost hypnotic rhythm.
Wayne whistled, dropped his pencil, and followed her in.
---
The next morning played out like a scene from a movie. When Wayne woke up, his bombshell neighbor was already in the kitchen making breakfast. It was proof that when a woman sets her mind to something, she knows exactly how to make a man feel taken care of.
There was a knock at the door. Still groggy, Wayne shuffled over and opened it. Standing outside was a well-dressed middle-aged woman in a tailored business suit.
"Sorry to bother you. Is Miss Watts here? I checked across the hall—she wasn't there."
He stepped aside to let her in, closed the door, and headed off to take a shower.
"Hey, Jenny! Want some breakfast?" his neighbor called cheerfully from the kitchen. "I made scrambled eggs and bacon!"
Jenny, her agent, looked unimpressed. She set her purse down and walked to the living room. "Listen," she said firmly, "you shouldn't be throwing yourself at some not-even-graduated rookie director for a micro-budget indie film that might not even get finished. This industry's a mess, especially the indie scene. Most of them bail before the final cut."
The agent clearly disapproved of the entire situation. And judging by what her client was wearing, she had no trouble guessing how last night went.
"Oh, come on, Jenny! I've been in Hollywood nearly a year now. And besides giving me a couple of silent background roles, what have you done for me?" the neighbor snapped. "If I don't seize opportunities like this, I'll end up crawling back to Australia doing stage plays and shampoo commercials. And those bitches back home will laugh themselves into comas. At least he's hot, right?"
Jenny didn't argue. She had dozens of clients, and limited resources. No matter how pretty her client was, she wasn't a priority.
Wayne waited in the bathroom until their conversation ended, then casually strolled out, towel drying his hair like he hadn't heard a word.
"Sorry—Jenny, was it?" he said politely. "Someone will bring the contract over shortly. You know how it is—actors need their agents present to sign."
He wasn't bothered. In Hollywood, this kind of dynamic was entirely normal. In fact, he respected agents who still tried to protect their clients. It meant they were doing their job.
Shortly after 8 AM, Luke arrived with a thick folder under his arm and knocked on Wayne's door.
After brief introductions, Wayne reviewed the documents, and under Jenny's watchful eye, his neighbor officially signed the contract. Wayne exhaled in relief. She was stunning, affordable, and destined to turn heads on screen. Not easy to find. Years later, King Kong would still remember her.
The rest of the folder included the equipment rental agreements. Wayne flipped through and signed everything.
"Wayne, what about the hospital scenes?" Luke asked. "You've got some exteriors in the script. Any idea where we'll shoot those?"
"There's an abandoned psychiatric hospital on the outskirts of Orange County," Wayne replied. "We'll go check it out sometime soon. If it works, we'll dress it up for the shoot. I don't have the budget to build a set from scratch—or to rent out an active commercial hospital."
Money was tight. Without a producer or production manager to keep the reins, Wayne had to pinch every penny himself.
"Alright," Luke said. "I'm meeting one of Jimmy's clients today. Fingers crossed the new CAA talent isn't terrible. Tomorrow, let's all sit down for a production meeting. If we're ready, we can start shooting at the school location. The schedule's tight—we have two months, tops. We still need time for post-production."
"You're the boss," Luke added with a smirk.
Wayne shrugged, then said, "This morning we need to check out Vincent High in Orange County. I want to film the school scenes there. I've visited the campus before—perfect layout. But we'll need the school's permission to shoot. And this isn't a one-day thing—it'll take a while."
Luke accepted the coffee the beautiful neighbor handed him and gave Wayne a helpless look.
"It's going to be tough," he said. "Even public schools hate having film crews disrupt classes. And you're talking about a private school? If parents complain, the school could face consequences."
Wayne stayed calm. "It depends on how we pitch it to the principal, Luke. For starters, the school's name will be clearly featured in the movie. We can even offer a few student roles as background extras. I'll tell the principal this will help boost the school's visibility—make admissions easier. Plus, giving students a chance to participate in a real film shoot can be a great hands-on learning opportunity."
He'd thought this through. If it were a public school, negotiations might be harder. But with private schools, there were always options—and if this one didn't work out, he'd move on to the next.
"Alright, man, it's almost nine. We better head out," Luke said, checking his watch. "Miss Watts, make yourself at home. If you head out, just lock the door behind you."
Wayne grabbed his jacket and car keys, and he and Luke headed for the door.
"Hey, Wayne," the neighbor called, lounging on the couch. "I'll be staying in to read the script—want me to make lunch for you two?"
Clearly, she wasn't the innocent type. But then again, no one who survived in this industry really was.
"No need, thanks," Wayne replied casually.
They took the pickup and drove straight toward Orange County, a satellite city on the outskirts of Los Angeles. As Luke drove, he glanced over at Wayne in the passenger seat, still flipping through paperwork.
"Wayne, why Orange County?" he asked.
"Huh?"
"I mean, wouldn't it be easier to shoot in LA?"
Wayne looked up and shook his head. "It's not the same, Luke. Trust me, we won't get a school location in LA without paying big. Orange County's a better fit—lodging's cheaper, too. Plus, that abandoned psychiatric hospital I want to use? That's in Orange County. I've got to think about the big picture."
He closed his folder and turned to Luke with a more serious tone.
"You're already thinking about crew accommodations?" Luke raised an eyebrow. "We haven't even finalized locations yet."
Wayne smiled wryly. "I don't have much choice. We don't have a production manager, and you're new here too. If I don't plan ahead, we'll fall apart halfway through. I've even been losing sleep thinking about potential problems."
Luke glanced at him. Hearing this, he suddenly felt like maybe—just maybe—Wayne might actually pull this off. If he didn't, it certainly wouldn't be for lack of effort. Hopefully, the movie would make it to theaters.
Wayne spent the rest of the drive to Orange County going over logistics with Luke, especially props. They only had one prop master, and maybe two general assistants—Luke would have to step up and coordinate a lot of the prep.
When they arrived, Luke parked in front of the school. He stayed in the truck, pulling out a notebook and jotting down a list of tasks Wayne had assigned him. He even started trimming the list, thinking through each job carefully—Wayne's energy had clearly rubbed off on him.
About an hour later, Wayne returned to the truck with a folder in hand and a rare smile on his face.
"Well?" Luke asked. "Did we get it?"
Wayne gave the folder a little shake. "Yep. No rental fees. The school will even support the shoot. The deal is: their name appears on screen for five seconds—clear and visible—and they get to select a few students to appear as background extras. It counts as community engagement."
Honestly, it hadn't been easy. Good thing he brought the production documents and studio credentials—it gave him more credibility.
"Nice work! So, are we heading back now?" Luke asked, starting the engine.
"Not yet. There's one more thing I need you to handle," Wayne said, pointing out the window. "I made a call to a nearby motel—just two blocks from here. I need you to negotiate the price. If the rate's good, this'll be our base for the next month or two."
They pulled up in front of the small, three-story motel. The building looked old, its faded walls etched with time.
Before they went in, Wayne gave Luke a nudge. "They already quoted a decent rate, but I want you to try lowering it even more. Do your best. If the deal falls through, I'll take over. Just don't blow it—we don't want to waste time finding another place."
Wayne waited on the lobby couch while Luke spoke with the receptionist and was then led into a back office. Thirty minutes later, Luke returned and gave him a thumbs-up. Only when they got back in the car did Luke fill him in.
"Wayne, we haven't finalized our crew numbers yet," he said, "but I negotiated the rate down even further. I told them we'd be staying for one to two months, and they agreed to include three meals a day. Once we have a final headcount, we can sign the contract and move in."
Wayne was satisfied. His only priority was saving money wherever possible—after all, who knew what surprises the shoot might bring?
"Good job. Now step on it, will you? I've got a meeting this afternoon with my agent Jimmy. He's bringing over two of his clients—a potential supporting actress and the male lead. Both are new signings, just getting started."
He checked his watch—it was nearly noon. Luke nodded and pressed on the gas.