Talented Maestro

Chapter 15 – Escape from This Damn Horror Set

Another day of hectic filming had come to an end. After a much-needed day off, everyone returned in noticeably better spirits—relaxed and recharged. That short break had worked wonders for their minds and bodies.

As Wayne shouted,

"Cut!"

The entire crew instinctively broke into applause. Another minor character had officially wrapped all their scenes. As always, Wayne shook hands with the actor, thanked him for his efforts, and handed him a killer's mask as a memento.

He watched as everyone began packing up—some coiling cables, others hauling equipment. Luke, ever careful, was organizing the used film reels. Those would eventually be locked away in the safe in Wayne's room—one can never be too careful.

Driving at the tail end of the crew convoy, Wayne chatted leisurely with Naomi, who was riding shotgun.

"Naomi, not much filming left now. Most of what's left is between you and the killer, and your scenes with Uma. So… you and Uma haven't been fighting lately, right?"

He knew full well that even if they had been fighting, no one would tell him. And definitely not in this country—snitches were universally hated.

"Of course not," Naomi replied coolly. "No drama. Honestly, I just want to finish this film as soon as possible. I'm so exhausted every day, I can barely drag myself around—there's no energy left to bicker with that b*tch."

She knew exactly what he was worried about. With the shoot nearing completion, Wayne wanted nothing to jeopardize the final stretch—especially not any tension between the leads.

He might be sweet to her in bed, acting like the perfect lover, but Naomi had no illusions. If she ever caused trouble that slowed production, he'd turn on her in a heartbeat—no matter how well she pleased him behind closed doors. She'd bet her chest on it.

"That's good to hear," Wayne said. "Starting tomorrow, I'll prioritize your scenes with Uma—let's get this shoot wrapped up."

"Got it," she nodded. "I'll bring my A-game. I've already been messing up less—this shoot's taught me a lot."

Naomi was clearly trying to reassure him, but she wasn't wrong. Lately, she'd been getting into character much faster. Like all successful people, she had real talent—it just needed polishing.

Of course, it also helped that Wayne wasn't a stickler for flawless acting. For a film like this, Naomi and Uma Thurman's looks were more important than their dramatic range. No one expected Oscar-level performances here.

To be honest, Wayne himself had grown a lot. A film director, he'd learned, was like the foreman of a massive construction crew—coordinating countless moving parts to get the job done. As they drove back to the hotel, they chatted about the day's shoot.

So far, everything had gone surprisingly smoothly. Wayne, a rookie director, was slowly gaining experience. But more importantly, the cast and crew had managed to put aside personal differences for the sake of the project.

Sure, some people were average at best, and others rubbed the crew the wrong way. But Wayne never seriously considered firing anyone. Even in Hollywood, it was hard to find people who were both cheap and capable.

In his eyes, only one person on set truly exceeded professional standards: Steve, the antisocial lighting guy.

Luke was talented too, but Wayne felt his strengths didn't lie in directing. Luke's meticulous nature made him far better suited as an assistant director, line producer, or production manager.

That night, nobody went out drinking. Everyone knew they were entering the final stretch. And that professionalism—that collective understanding—was part of why Wayne tolerated so much from the team. Whatever their flaws, they showed up with the right mindset.

---

At the hospital hallway set, the next scene was just about ready to shoot. It was simple: the masked killer corners and stabs the female lead, Tree.

Wayne didn't bother giving any dramatic speeches before rolling the camera—this wasn't the kind of scene that needed emotional depth or layered subtext.

It wasn't even difficult. A few takes would do. There was no need for the actors to pour their souls out, or weep on command.

All he needed was a masked killer, convincingly brutal and violent, and a terrified Tree—shocked, desperate, and struggling.

That would be enough.

Seeing that the actors were performing well—relaxed and in the zone—Wayne shot the same scene from five different angles that morning. It was one of the most crucial sequences, and he planned to pick the best two or three takes to include in the final cut.

After burning through two full reels of film, he checked his watch and finally called for a break. It was time for lunch, and the rest of the scene would resume afterward. As per his usual routine, he ate while repeatedly reviewing the morning's footage, meticulously searching for anything that could be improved.

He treated every scene involving Tree's murder with utmost seriousness. The film's entire horror atmosphere hinged on those moments—those were the real selling points.

If the rest of the movie closely mirrored the scenes he remembered from his past life, then the biggest departure was definitely the murder scenes. In his version, they were far more brutal, far more graphic.

Wayne had given it a lot of thought. His film wasn't some blockbuster that could hook viewers with dazzling effects right from the start. So, to grip the audience, he had to go all in—hence, the repeated, violent murder of Tree.

Normally, a strong opening scene is crucial for drawing viewers in. It's where a film builds resonance and gives people a reason to stay seated. For any competent producer or director, the opening is never just tossed in—it's a carefully considered piece of the puzzle. Sometimes it sets up the story, other times it offers a twist or teases the climax.

Wayne didn't have the luxury of complex setups or subtle foreshadowing. Instead, he chose to shove the theme in the viewer's face: Tree being repeatedly, viciously murdered. Let the audience ask themselves—why is this happening to her, and why again and again?

This was how he planned to draw people into the mystery, following Tree as she tries to solve it herself.

He wasn't aiming for elegant narrative arcs or clever twists. His approach was blunt, almost crude—make the brutality clear from the start, force the viewer to reckon with the violence done to someone as beautiful and helpless as Tree.

It was cruel, sure. Watching a stunning woman being savagely stabbed was disturbing—but it also sparked curiosity. Could she break free from this hellish loop? Would she survive? Would justice be served?

Whether Tree kept getting murdered or eventually turned the tables and caught the killer, both outcomes served as compelling hooks. The audience would stay for the answers.

As the film progressed, and Tree's birthday transformed into a death day, she herself would evolve—hitting those familiar Hollywood beats of personal growth, love, and redemption. And of course, it would all culminate in a feel-good ending, where the male and female leads triumph and come together.

That day, they wrapped yet another actor—this time, one of the film's main leads: Ethan Hawke. Honestly, this role hadn't done him many favors. It wasn't a "male lead" kind of film—his character was basically a glorified plot device.

Still, as tradition dictated, Wayne gave him a killer mask as a souvenir and sincerely thanked him for his work. Ethan wasn't short on gigs. Compared to the countless background actors, he had it pretty good—even if he wasn't headlining, he always had solid supporting roles lined up.

With his final scene complete, Ethan was heading straight to another shoot. Wayne remembered that Ethan's career in Hollywood had always gone relatively smoothly. He was never a megastar, but he was never out of work either.

Over the past few days, the set had been saying farewell to someone almost every day—mostly extras, but still, it signaled how well the production was progressing. The crew had become increasingly confident and efficient.

They'd been filming at the abandoned mental hospital for over three weeks now. If all went according to plan, they'd be done with that location by midday.

Lately, it had been all about the Naomi-Uma scenes, which meant the two women had been interacting constantly. The crew—and even some extras—could sometimes pick up on their thinly veiled sarcasm toward each other. But thankfully, it had never escalated into a full-blown b-word shouting match.

"Uma, nice work. You're in great form today. One last scene—I need you to show jealousy through your eyes. Should be easy for you."

Wayne called Uma Thurman over to the monitor and explained the shot. It was meant to round out the scattered takes from the morning, focusing mostly on her facial expressions.

And to her credit, Uma delivered. Say what you will about her off-screen personality, the camera loved her. She always knew how to present her best angles.

"Cut! That's a wrap! Pack it all up, people—we're finally leaving this goddamn horror movie set. You've earned a break—go have a drink or three!"

Wayne glanced at the monitor one last time, confirmed the take, and gave the call. Everyone immediately began cleaning up. Except for the unusable trash, everything was getting packed up and taken out. Most of the props and set pieces were rentals from Luke, and nothing would be left behind.

Once everyone was in their vehicles, Wayne did a final walk-through of the hospital corridors. Satisfied, he hopped in his pickup truck and followed the convoy back to the hotel.

Once there, he and Luke didn't even pause to rest. They went straight to Wayne's room and carefully placed all the exposed film into the bedroom's safe.

Looking at the reels stacked inside, they exchanged glances—and grinned. This was the product of more than a month of hard work—not just theirs, but the blood, sweat, and tears of everyone on the team, even the background actors.

"Wanna go grab a drink to celebrate? We finally wrapped those damned hospital scenes. Honestly, every time I stepped into that cursed asylum, I felt like something was crawling under my skin."

Luke raised a glassless toast, inviting him out.

Wayne didn't even bother changing. He just followed Luke downstairs to the tiny bar next to the hotel.

"Hey, Luke. That's just childhood trauma talking—you clearly watched too many horror flicks as a kid. I didn't feel a thing. And I hope someday our horror movie will scare the crap out of you too."

Luke laughed but didn't argue. Truth was, nobody on set liked that abandoned hospital. But work was work—they had to go, like it or not.

From what Wayne had seen, the only people truly unfazed by that haunted-looking place were him and Steve, the lighting guy. Everyone else avoided wandering off alone or stepping outside the staged areas. They knew better. After all, acting like a dumb horror movie teenager was a surefire way to meet a dumb horror movie ending.