Chapter 7: The Lead and the Supporting Role
When Wayne and Luke walked back into the apartment, they were met with an odd, tense atmosphere.
The beautiful neighbor was sitting near the balcony, holding the script, her eyes curiously locked on a young woman sitting stiffly on the couch. Jimmy, Wayne's agent, sat beside the girl, along with a young man—both quietly waiting.
The moment the door opened, the room seemed to come alive. Jimmy stood up and gestured toward the two people he'd brought.
"Hey, Luke. Wayne—these are my clients. This is Miss Uma Thurman, and this is Mr. Ethan Hawke."
Wayne gave a tired nod and motioned for them to sit, excusing himself to the bathroom. After splashing some water on his face and changing clothes, he came back and settled into a seat across from the pair.
"Wayne, have you eaten?" the neighbor asked, setting the script aside and walking over. She draped an arm around his shoulders and added with a pointed glance toward the couch, "I bought some pasta earlier. Want me to whip up some of my signature cheesy meat sauce spaghetti? It's really good."
Wayne raised an eyebrow, unsurprised. Hollywood wasn't exactly filled with innocence. He offered a helpless smile.
"No need. Luke and I grabbed burgers on the way back." Then, turning to Jimmy, he added, "Jimmy, meet our lead actress—Naomi Watts."
Naomi gave a friendly wave from the balcony.
"Hi, Jimmy."
"Hello, Miss Watts."
Wayne didn't let the conversation drag. He picked up the résumé from the coffee table and addressed the girl sitting across from him.
"Uma Thurman. Right, your résumé says you've already been in a feature film—Kiss Daddy Goodnight, right? I haven't seen it. Can you tell me a bit about yourself?"
Uma stood, spun once to give Wayne a good look at her figure, then sat back down and began confidently.
"I'm Uma Thurman. Born April 29, 1970, in Boston, Massachusetts. I currently live in New York. Kiss Daddy Goodnight was my debut film in 1988, where I played a teenager who seduces men and robs them.
I was discovered on the streets of New York when I was fifteen by a modeling agent. I've since appeared on dozens of magazine covers. Jimmy showed me the script, and I believe I can handle the lead role."
She delivered her pitch with conviction, watching Wayne closely, certain she could charm the young, good-looking director.
Wayne looked up, surprised by her boldness—only to catch Naomi silently mouthing across the room:
"Bitch."
He frowned and glanced at Jimmy. Clearly, Jimmy had told Uma what role she was up for. But now it was obvious she had her own agenda—and had come well-prepared.
"Miss Thurman," Wayne said calmly, "your experience is impressive—especially for a newcomer. But let me make it clear: the role I'm casting for is the supporting character, Lori, not the lead, Tree. If that's not acceptable, I'm afraid we won't be moving forward."
He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he turned to Jimmy, who had also frowned slightly before jumping in.
"Wayne, trust me—she's a great fit for Lori. I told her that from the start."
He then glanced at Uma with a look that said, See? I told you.
"I'm fine with playing Lori," Uma said quickly. "Of course, if you're still open to auditioning for the lead, I'd love a shot at that too."
Wayne lit a Marlboro, watching her through a curl of smoke. It was clear—no successful actress was ever truly naive. Even in their early days, they knew how to fight for opportunities. And when that failed, they knew when to backtrack and secure what they could.
"At this budget, the supporting role won't offer a high salary. I'm sure Jimmy already mentioned that. But I'm satisfied with your profile. If you're in, we can sign the contract later today. Think it over."
He then turned to the handsome young man beside her.
"Mr. Hawke, would you mind introducing yourself?"
"Of course," Ethan replied. "I'm Ethan Hawke. So far, I've acted in two films. Small parts. In 1985, I appeared in Explorers, and in 1989, I was in Peter Weir's Dead Poets Society. I've read the script, and based on my experience, I believe I'm fully capable of playing the male lead."
Wayne nodded, setting down the résumé.
"This film has three main roles—male lead, female lead, and supporting actress. Because our budget is tight, the pay won't be high. But if all goes well, the shoot shouldn't take long. If that sounds acceptable, we can sign contracts today."
"No problem," Ethan said with a confident smile. "I'm ready to sign anytime."
Hawke had already made up his mind before coming—this might be his big break. Even if the film never made it to theaters, having a lead role on his résumé would still be worth it.
Wayne gave a subtle nod, and Luke pulled out two prepared contracts, laying them in front of Uma and Ethan. Jimmy glanced over and nodded to them both, signaling everything was in order.
Of course, Jimmy had already briefed them thoroughly. He wouldn't have brought them here if they weren't ready to commit. Under his watchful eye, the two quickly signed the contracts without hesitation.
When they were done, Wayne smiled and clapped his hands together.
"Thank you both for your trust. Tomorrow, I'll bring the entire production team together for a meeting. Once everything's in place, we'll head to Orange County to begin filming. We're expecting a two-month shoot, so start getting prepared."
Jimmy nodded and asked,
"What about the other roles?"
"Just use your agency's clients. CAA shouldn't be short on fresh faces, right? For the teacher character, find someone good-looking. As for extras, leave a few spots for the school—I promised the principal I'd give some of the students a chance for hands-on experience."
"No problem. Leave it to me."
With that, Jimmy stood up, exchanged goodbyes with Luke, and left with his two clients to prepare for production. Luke also said his goodbyes and stepped out to begin setting up props for the hospital scenes.
Wayne slumped into the couch, eyes shut. The nonstop problem-solving was starting to wear him down.
Then, a pair of hands gently rested on his head, pressing and massaging in slow, calming circles. He let out a breath.
"Wayne, are you feeling okay?"
Opening his eyes, Wayne reached up and grasped the hands on his head.
"A bit of a headache. I think it's just the stress. My brain's been overworked lately—everything's about production, logistics, deadlines. It feels like someone's whipping you forward, whether you're ready or not."
Naomi sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around his head and guiding it gently to rest against her chest.
"Don't push yourself too hard," she said softly. "If you collapse from the pressure, the production will fall apart before it even starts. You need to learn to relax. Stop thinking about work all the time."
The scent of her shower gel lingered faintly in the air, comforting in its familiarity. Wayne didn't think about anything else—just let himself relax. Sometimes, having a woman around wasn't so bad. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such warmth.
He wrapped his arms around the blonde beauty and, before he knew it, had drifted off to sleep.
---
When he woke up, he found himself lying on the couch, a blanket covering him, a pillow under his head. Rubbing his eyes, he saw Naomi in the open kitchen, making dinner.
"Oh—sweetheart, I'm sorry. I don't know when I fell asleep. What are you cooking? I'm starving."
He tossed off the blanket and walked over to her, gently hugging her from behind. There was something about this woman that made him feel at ease. Whatever her motives might be, she made him feel genuinely cared for.
"No worries," Naomi said, smiling. "You only slept for about three hours. You were exhausted."
Her lips curled slightly as she spoke—because effort always deserved reward, didn't it?
Wayne leaned against the counter, watching her pour meat sauce over freshly cooked pasta. He took the two plates without being asked and brought them to the coffee table.
"I can't stop," he said. "Stopping means failure. But this pasta is amazing—just like you said. You really do make a killer spaghetti."
Naomi smiled and dug into her plate, then cautiously brought up the subject she'd been thinking about.
"Wayne… I don't like Uma. She's manipulative, too ambitious. Maybe you should consider keeping your options open."
Of course he'd noticed. This kind of thing wasn't new to him. His mother used to say, If a crew has more than one woman, the backstabbing will go lower than you ever imagined. Especially when both women are beautiful.
"Look, I already signed her. As long as she fits the role, I have no reason to look elsewhere. Maybe focus your attention on the script instead."
His tone was calm, but firm.
Naomi didn't take it personally. Instead, she smoothly changed the subject, shifting to discuss the character arc of Tree, the female lead.
She was smart—testing the waters without risking anything. If she could plant just a seed of doubt about Uma, it would be worth it.
---
After dinner, Wayne called Jasmine Café, the place next to the school he frequented, and booked a table. Tomorrow, he planned to gather the entire crew for a kickoff meeting. It was time for everyone to get to know each other and check for any overlooked gaps in the planning phase.
The school and hospital locations were already secured. Most of the remaining scenes were simple enough to shoot on a quiet road or under a bridge.
The script had been cleverly designed to avoid expensive sets—Tree's repeated "deaths" all happened in deliberately minimalistic locations.
He had even storyboarded the entire film based on the visuals in his head. Camera angles were largely pre-planned, which meant they'd shoot efficiently, wasting little film.
With fewer takes and minimal useless footage, they'd likely save a good amount of budget on raw stock. That extra breathing room would reduce the risk of going over budget—and leave more flexibility for post-production.
Fortunately, there weren't many special effects. The biggest prop expenses? Probably just tomato juice and a few creepy masks.
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