[Owen POV]
Sarah breathed heavily, sweat beading on her forehead as she stared at the copy of herself standing on the next street.
I sighed, walked toward her, and gently covered her eyes from behind.
"When you see your doppelgänger, you shouldn't look at it," I said calmly, glaring at the Sarah M. Gellar double, whose face looked more rubbery than a human's face.
My snakes stirred, sliding out of their ring form and revealing themselves.
Startled, the doppelgänger bolted as the snakes chased after it.
Doppelgängers were actually common here. By the time I arrived in this universe, I'd already seen twenty of them.
Still, they had no real value. Too weak to fight or train against, useless as medicine, and once startled they never returned. They weren't worth paying attention to.
For normal mortals, though, they could be terrifying—nightmare fuel. In truth, all they really did was harass people.
"It's gone now." I uncovered Sarah's eyes once the creature fled. My snakes caught up to it quickly and devoured it.
For them, it was like eating chicken nuggets—not filling, but good for a quick snack.
Sarah turned slowly, confusion written across her face. "Who are you?" she asked warily.
"Hi, I'm Owen," I said casually. "The director is calling you."
"Oh! Right." She flushed, flustered, then hurried off toward the director's tent. I followed at an easy pace, waiting for my snakes to slither back.
"There's something strange about her." I muttered. Shiryu sensed it too and sent his thoughts into my mind—though he still couldn't speak.
He said she felt delicious… There was something about her that drew the beasts in.
"Troubling," I muttered. "If she gets into danger, we'll need to recast the side character."
Michael noticed me walking away and grinned. "Wow, you can't wait to ask her out? That's really lame. I can teach you how to get girls if you want—"
"There's something dangerous about her. Sharpen your senses. Tell me if you notice anything off," I cut him off, ignoring the rest.
His grin vanished. He instantly grew serious, lowering his voice. "Got it."
The tent was only temporary as we were moving location after this.
"Here." I gave the set staff my 'childhood' pictures– starting from when I was a baby, to toddler, to young child, and pre-adolescence for them to put into the family house.
I actually just took it yesterday using Shiryu. They were only mannequins and a baby doll which Shiryu wore and pretended they were alive.
Shiryu could make the wearer bigger, but Shiryu cannot make them smaller so I had to be creative for this.
"You're expressionless in all of these pictures… Is there anything with a smile?" The staff asked with exasperation.
The pictures were really good, but I looked too much like a doll in all of them.
He turned to me and sighed before I could reply, "You know what? Never mind. I'm sure I can edit something together."
I guess as he saw my expressionless face right now, he thought it would be a useless thing to ask.
…
We gathered in an air-conditioned conference room for the movie's table read.
Sarah kept sneaking glances at me while we flipped through the script.
"Mr. Carell, what do you think of the script?" the writer, Chbosky, asked.
"Me? You're asking me?" Steve Carell blinked in surprise.
Chbosky laughed. "Yes, you."
Payne and Chbosky had met George Burnett a few days earlier to discuss crew rentals for their project.
As newcomers, they had asked George for advice.
But George, sly as ever, told them that Owen Chase had a unique vision—and that they should let the actors help tweak scenes or suggest improvements.
"Sarah, do you have any thoughts about your character? Anything you'd like her to do differently?" Payne asked.
George had also told them to seek a woman's perspective when writing women—that way, the character wouldn't come across flat or alienating to female viewers.
Sarah was stunned. Neither she nor Steve had ever been asked for input like this before.
Steve was still mainly doing comedy, and Sarah had just wrapped three seasons of a family drama. To be treated as creative collaborators was flattering.
Steve ended up so helpful to Payne and Chbosky. He had a strong desire to prove himself, and the two rookies gave him that opportunity.
There was nothing formal about the help though, so it's hard for Steve to get any writing credit for his improvisations. The WGA was quite strict in this regard.
His improvisations were hilarious, pulling me out of my earlier thoughts as I laughed along during the read.
Payne smiled, watching the chemistry bloom.
In comedy—especially comedy-drama—rapport between the actors and the director was essential, and here it was clicking.
Sarah adjusted her character slightly, giving her character more spark. I threw in a few lines of my own, which both Payne and Chbosky accepted enthusiastically.
"Excellent. That was excellent work today! We can start filming tomorrow," Payne said, brimming with excitement.
4CLOVER had given them $10 million for the budget but added a rare incentive: if they came in under budget, they could keep 3% of the leftover funds for themselves.
No one in Hollywood ever offered something like that. Normally, productions bled over budget—finishing under was almost unheard of.
I wanted them to be creative instead of just throwing money around to plug gaps in the filmmaking.
"Are you actually going to burn down a house for this?" Steve asked jokingly once the discussion wrapped.
Payne smiled. "We can rent a set from Universal. JOI Productions already found some suitable options."
Then he turned to me, serious. "You weren't kidding when you said they could work fast."
I only shrugged.
Burning houses was common in Hollywood—especially in action films—so prebuilt sets already existed. The problem was the price: almost $700,000 just to film a burn sequence.
"Hey," I asked Payne, "in the movie, is the house going to be rebuilt?"
"Yeah, that's the whole point—it's about raising money to rebuild the house," Payne said, confused by my wording.
"No, I mean onscreen. Will we see the house rebuilt, or will it happen offscreen?"
Payne paused, then frowned. "You've got an idea, don't you?"
"Pitch this to 4CLOVER: find a real burned-down house owned by a family with a similar situation to the father-son leads in the film. Then film the rebuilding process, montage style."
"Why… why would we do that?" Payne asked, baffled. Steve and Chbosky leaned in, curious.
"If we rebuild the house for a single mother with kids, or an elderly couple, and give it to them for free—just in exchange for letting us film the rebuilding—you've got both a set and a story."
Chbosky frowned. "That's still expensive. Rebuilding an entire house for strangers? I don't see the point."
"It looks expensive on paper," I said, smiling slightly. "But one of the biggest factors in a film's success is marketing."
"Ah!" Payne's eyes lit up. "You want to use the act of kindness as a marketing hook for the film."
Steve raised his brows, impressed. "That's… actually a good strategy."
I smirked. "4CLOVER will handle the marketing. We'll frame it as a genuine act of goodwill. When the story breaks, it'll feel authentic."
Payne stared at me in disbelief. "You really are… a marketing genius."
They remembered how I'd marketed The Sixth Sense by using that plane murder story to blast the film's name across the country.
With the right subject—a veteran, a single mother, an elderly homeowner—helping rebuild their burned-down house would generate enormous goodwill.
And it would still be cheaper than filming at a Universal backlot.
Rebuilding a single-family dwelling in California cost maybe $100,000—likely even less in 1996.
Cause marketing was a real marketing strategy in my original world.
Usually it was big companies that did it. Dove, Home Depot's Habitat for Humanity, TOMS shoes, Mr Beast, and many more.
There were movies who did it too, like Schindler's List, Apollo 13, Philadelphia.
For Schindler's List, Spielberg donated much of his profits to the Shoah Foundation. Publicized widely, it boosted both the film's prestige and goodwill.
Apollo 13 promoted space education, and Philadelphia normalised corporate sponsorship of AIDs causes.
Tying up films with causes increased its prestige, but filmmakers have to be careful not to be so obvious about it.
"I'll call up Madam Donovan, and I'll pitch the idea to her." Payne said excitedly.
'I'm already going to greenlight it though.' I thought to myself.
Work was wrapped for the day, and Sarah finally approached me, glancing around like she wanted to talk privately.
"Do you know what happened earlier?" she asked, her tone sharp, testing me. "About… that thing?" Fear flashed in her eyes, yet she kept trying to put on a tough expression.
I shrugged. "Not much. Just a little."
She sighed, clearly disappointed with my vague answer.
"Does it happen to you a lot?" I asked curiously.
"Not until I moved out to L.A.," she admitted, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"What is that thing anyway?" She asked.
I told her about the Doppelganger and how they weren't really a threat, which eased her worries a little bit. But just like anyone who was dealing with a supernatural encounter, she was a bit shaken up by it.
"This is like the seventh scary thing that happened to me when I moved to LA." She said exasperatingly.
"This is my fifth." I told her with a smile. She was taken aback, stammering slightly, "Re-Really? Are you not from LA too?"
"I'm from New Jersey." I replied to the New York born girl.
Sarah fell into a deep thought and said, "Is there someone targeting the ones who're from out of town?"
That got me thinking. "Did you… get anything strange when you moved here? A letter, a gift, maybe something you didn't think twice about?"
George, Jessica and Lenny almost fall victim to the Greed demon charm spell before. Jessica might've encountered something similar to it.
"Huh? Like what?" she asked, a little startled.
"I don't know yet," I said honestly. After a pause, I added lightly, "I could take a look for you, if you want. Sometimes it's easier to notice weird things when you're not the one living with them."
She hesitated, weighing me for a moment. The first day meeting someone and asking them back to your place—it wasn't nothing.
But she also knew I had a pretty good reputation among the staff members she'd talked with today.
Finally, after a long moment of contemplation, she gave a little nod. "Alright. You can come by. Just… don't make me regret it."
"Fair enough." I shrugged nonchalantly.
I rode with Sarah while Michael followed behind in his car until we arrived at a cozy three-bedroom Spanish Revival house in the Palisades.
Although she'd been a regular in a sitcom before, she and her mother were still renting the house instead of buying one.
"Mom! I'm home! I brought a friend with me." Sarah unlocked the door, invited me in, and tossed her keys into the bowl by the entrance.
"Mom!" she called again as we stood in the living room. I noticed the broken TV and asked, "What happened here?"
"Oh, that's not from anything supernatural. But it was still scary. A cockroach—" she shuddered, disgust plain on her face, "Anyway, I tried to hit it, but I hit the TV instead. It fell over and cracked the screen."
I nodded slightly. Sarah asked, "Do you want anything to drink—"
She startled when I suddenly grabbed her wrist. Her eyes widened, fearing the worst. "What are you—"
Before she could finish, I pulled her aside, switching places with her as I fixed my gaze sharply on the kitchen.
"Shh. Hide behind me," I told her.
Sarah tensed, alarm in her eyes. "What is it?" she whispered.
I walked into the kitchen, and Sarah's nerves eased slightly when she saw a woman washing dishes at the sink.
"Mom! I've been calling you…" Sarah said with a sigh.
"Oh, Sarah. Dear, how was work today?" the woman asked without turning around.
"It's fine. Um, I brought a friend home. He's Owen Chase—the one leading the movie. Owen, what are you doing with that—"
Sarah froze as she saw me pick up a kitchen knife, flipping it in my hand, testing its weight.
"Just trying to see if I can use it," I said with a soft smile. Sarah tilted her head, confused—then her eyes widened in horror as I hurled the knife into her mother's back.
The woman yelped and collapsed.
"NO!" Sarah screamed, but when she turned, expecting to see her mother's body on the floor, there was nothing.
"What—MOM!? Owe—Owen! What's happening?!" Sarah cried, her voice shaking.
I shrugged. "There's a really simple explanation. Try to think about it."
"Is… is that not my mom? But she sounded exactly like her." Sarah's face turned pale.
I asked seriously, "Is there anything new in your house? Something you got before the harassment started?"
"No… I guess…" She thought hard.
"Did you reject anyone's offer? Meet someone new? Any gifts? Did you register your name for anything?" I pressed, trying to help her recall.
Suddenly, the house shook violently. Sarah let out a frightened gasp and clung to me.
"What was that?" she asked in shock.
"That's just an earthquake, I think," I said flatly. Then I turned to her and added gently, "You can't think clearly when you're this scared. Why don't we sit down and have some tea first? Take your time."
I brewed some tea and poured a cup for her. She had called her mother to check in while I prepared the drink. Sarah told her mother not to come home today and to stay at a hotel where Sarah would join her later that evening.
Sarah drank her tea as we sat on the living room couch, trying hard to remember if she had received anything unusual.
"This… this is like… nothing. But when I moved here, I received an offer from a talent agency. It's a new agency. Of course, I rejected it since I already have an offer from CAA, but they said they didn't want to sign me until I had a stronger prospect—"
"Tell me more about the talent agency," I interjected.
Sarah nodded and suddenly stood up. "I think I still have their card somewhere." She rifled through her cupboards and returned with a bright pink card, handing it to me.
"Nelson and Vought Talent Agency?" I read, confused.
Sarah explained, "It's a new agency. The partners are former executives from WME and CAA who quit to start their own company."
I flipped the card and examined the design. "N.V. Talent?"
Sarah smiled faintly. "They named it N.V. because they said signing with them would bring a lot of envy from everyone when a star joined. They're positioning themselves to be the biggest agency in town."
She added, "I thought they were joking, but they've already signed several big names in just the past month—Geena Davis, Mel Gibson, Madonna. They've been poaching top talent from other agencies pretty easily."
"Never heard of them before," I said with a tired sigh.
Sarah furrowed her eyebrows. "You should know all of this stuff. I know you're just starting, but you need to pay attention—"
I interjected, "Is there anything else? What about your mom? Did she bring anything new to the house?"
"Huh? Right. Mom." Sarah blinked in realization and called her mother. After a half-hour phone call, she turned to me and said, "Mom said there's some stuff she bought from the night market in her room."
"Let's go check her room." I stood up lazily and followed Sarah.
She joked, "I've never brought a boy to my house on our first meeting, let alone gone to a bedroom with him."
"I have a girlfriend, by the way," I said abruptly, even though I was lying.
Sarah's eyes widened, and she said defensively, "I was joking! God! Don't be so… presumptuous. You– Not everyone is trying to get with you–"
I turned a deaf ear to her ramblings and opened the mother's room.
As Sarah stepped in, she froze—about twenty figures were inside, all turned with their backs to us, eerily resembling Sarah, her mother, and me.
Sarah's face fell, and she closed the door immediately. Pulling my hand, she whispered, "We should run away now!"
I sighed. "Don't worry about me. Why don't you go wait with Michael for now?"
"I—"
"Just go outside. I'll come to you when I'm done." I pushed her gently.
Reluctantly, she left, and I finally sighed in relief. Opening the bedroom door fully, I saw dozens of doppelgangers.
"Shiryu. Obsidian. Come out and eat," I commanded. My snakes morphed into their true forms and began devouring the doppelgangers, swallowing them whole.
I scanned the room and noticed an ordinary porcelain vase. I balled my fist and smashed it. Half of the vase shattered, revealing a hidden compartment beneath its floor containing a demon finger.
"So this is what's attracting the beasts, huh?"
I split the finger between Shiryu and Obsidian. It was a delicacy for them, like wagyu beef. It was also quite beneficial for their growth since it was a finger of a high class demon– above the golden core level.
'Someone's been baiting the creatures to Sarah's house. Is it deliberate, or did her mom just buy the wrong thing at the night market?'
Seeing the finger made me think twice about interfering with this matter. If the mastermind could cut off the finger of a demon like that, then, could I even fight them?
After checking for anything else that could attract monsters, I left the house and met Sarah and Michael outside.
"It's done," I told her. "If this wasn't deliberate, you shouldn't see these things again. But if someone is targeting you, they might try again—so be careful for now."
"Really? What was it? The thing inside my mother's room that's bringing them to my place?" Sarah asked.
I smirked and said, " A finger."
Her face froze again.
The next day during the filming, Sarah's face was still pale, but she has her spirits up today.
She leaned in close and whispered to me, "I finally got a good night's sleep last night. Thanks a lot for your help."
The interaction was seen by the staff, and they were shooting knowing smiles at me all day long.
People had seen us leave together yesterday, and now we were acting really close today, so there's bound to be some gossip.
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