General Point of View
It was 9:55 in the morning, and the café wasn't particularly crowded. A few regulars, open laptops, quiet background chatter, and the constant aroma of coffee filling the air.
Five minutes before his meeting, Owen was already there. Sitting by the window with an almost untouched decaf and his phone in hand, he scrolled through his messages with little interest.
He always liked to arrive a few minutes early to his meetings, no matter what they were.
At 10:01, Larry walked through the door. He looked a bit rushed and slightly nervous, though not as desperate as the first time Owen had seen him at the festival.
Owen stood up naturally, and Larry spotted him.
He walked toward Owen with a smile. "Hi, Owen. Sorry for being late. Have you been waiting long?" Larry said, extending his hand.
"Hey. No problem. I just got here a few minutes ago," Owen replied, accepting the handshake.
Owen sat back down, and Larry took the seat across from him.
"Would you like to order something?" Owen asked, nodding toward the counter.
"I'm fine, thanks. I'd rather get straight to the point," Larry replied politely.
Owen nodded. He agreed with the middle-aged man's words. He preferred to avoid small talk or empty speeches. If there was something he respected, it was efficiency.
"Alright, I'm all ears," Owen said, taking a sip of his decaf while looking at Larry.
Larry watched him for a moment before speaking. Internally, he couldn't help but be surprised.
It was remarkable how calm Owen looked.
He knew Owen was only twenty years old. And yet, there he was, composed, confident, with no trace of anxiety or that restless excitement typical of rising actors.
Most actors his age, in his position, after two successful short films, a well-received feature at Palm Springs, and having sold a script to A24, would be restless, cocky, or at least visibly thrilled about what was coming next.
But the young man in front of him wasn't. He was serene.
And somehow, that earned Larry's respect.
"Alright," Larry said finally, adjusting himself slightly in the chair. "What I'm about to offer you isn't common. It's not something I usually do. But I think it's worth it in your case."
Owen raised an eyebrow and waited.
"I got you an audition," Larry continued. "A private one. Not one of those where a hundred people line up in a rented hall or the ones you find on Backstage or similar sites. No. This is something more serious. Bigger. From a major studio. A very well-known franchise, let's just say, that level."
Owen's expression didn't change, but a spark of interest lit up in his eyes. "And what kind of audition is it?" he asked directly.
Larry gave a faint smile, pausing for a beat.
"The project has a hundred-million-dollar budget. It's a major production. Filming starts in about two weeks and a few days…" Larry said.
"What movie is it? And what role?" Owen asked.
"The role is for an important supporting character, part of the protagonist's circle. As for the movie…" Larry lowered his voice slightly, not out of secrecy, but for effect.
"The Hunger Games."
Larry had received the green light from Debra Zane about an hour earlier. And, for one of those rare times in life, all the stars had aligned.
He had something real, big, and concrete to offer Owen. Not promises. An opportunity.
Owen heard the title and was surprised internally, though no emotion crossed his face.
The Hunger Games was a saga Owen had enjoyed watching, entertaining, fast-paced, and set in a well-built universe. Especially the first two installments, which were his favorites.
Four films in total, with the last one released in 2015.
He also knew that, financially, it had been a massive success: each installment grossed over $500 million at the box office.
The franchise was based on the best-selling novel of the same name, written by Suzanne Collins.
Owen had never read the books, so the saga had remained untouched in this reality. Therefore, he couldn't bring it here himself.
'Although… perhaps there were small differences in the cast.'
Not in the lead, Jennifer Lawrence was still Katniss Everdeen, but possibly among the supporting characters.
He had noticed this before: some actors who were famous in his previous world weren't nearly as well-known here, simply because the films or shows that had launched them didn't exist.
Without that breakthrough moment, many of them remained in the shadows.
"So, what do you want in return?" Owen asked calmly.
"Nothing. No contract, no commission. You don't have to sign anything with me to go to the audition," Larry replied.
Owen studied him, weighing his tone, looking for traces of deception. "Then why are you offering it to me?"
"Because I want you to consider that, if you do get the role, it might be worth having me as your representative. That's all. This isn't pressure. It's a gesture of good faith, and because I believe in your talent."
He paused briefly, then added with a short, genuine laugh:
"You don't see an actor, screenwriter, and producer… at twenty years old every day. With a script sold to A24, two successful short films with solid reviews, and a feature film written, produced, and starred in, shown at Palm Springs. In fact, I think it's the first time I've seen it in my career. And I've been in this business for a long time."
Owen seemed satisfied with the answer, because what Larry said was true.
Even in Hollywood, where ambition was everywhere, most young actors were only beginning to build an acting résumé. Very few wrote their own scripts, and even fewer produced their own films, whether shorts or features.
Of course, Owen was the exception here, thanks to all the movies that didn't exist in this world but that he remembered perfectly from his previous life.
Owen shifted slightly in his seat. He didn't seem distrustful, just methodical. He asked a few more questions, unhurriedly, wanting to make sure everything was legitimate.
"And this friend of yours really works on the film?" he asked.
"Yes, Debra Zane. The name's well-known. Casting director for Dreamgirls, Indiana Jones 4, Twilight, and now she's heading this project. We were colleagues years ago," Larry said, pulling out his phone, unlocking it, and scrolling until he found the email.
"Here, look, this is her reply," he said, turning the screen toward Owen for a moment.
It wasn't much, just a short email chain. Debra's name appeared in the signature, and the message read:
[Attached is the scene excerpt for your client. If available, he may attend tomorrow at 2:00 PM at the casting office in Los Angeles. Immediate confirmation required.]
Below it, a PDF file titled Sejanus_Scene_12.pdf.
'Sejanus… must be the character. 2 PM, the meeting with Blumhouse is early in the morning, I can make it,' Owen thought.
"They're short on time, like I said. If you're going to do it, it has to be tomorrow," Larry said, and Owen nodded, expression unchanged.
"You mentioned filming starts in just over two weeks," Owen noted.
"That's right," Larry confirmed.
"So that means this character, probably already has someone lined up who's about to sign," Owen said, without drama, simply connecting the dots.
"Yes. The actor who auditioned has already been shortlisted. Technically, he got the part. He's met the producers, the director, he's even worked with the lead actress before. But he hasn't signed the contract yet. And they still have room to replace him if someone more convincing shows up. What I'm saying is that the door is slightly open, not closed," admitted Larry.
"But I have to kick it open," said Owen.
Larry nodded with a half-smile.
Owen fell silent for a few seconds, then looked up again, curious. "Who's the lead actress?"
"Rachel Zegler," Larry replied.
Owen blinked. After a few seconds, the name clicked.
An image flashed through his mind, the poster for West Side Story (2021), Steven Spielberg's film with a $100 million budget that had only grossed around $70 million worldwide, despite strong reviews.
A box-office flop.
He wasn't blaming Rachel or Spielberg. Nor was he thinking poorly of the movie. He never judged a film by its box office numbers.
He knew perfectly well that many great movies had failed commercially.
Even though he enjoyed mainstream, spectacular cinema, the kind that pulled you out of the real world for two hours, he also understood that a good story could go unnoticed for a thousand reasons: lack of marketing, little public interest, bad timing… or simply because it wasn't its moment yet.
Some of those movies, given time, became cult classics.
Larry, noticing Owen's silence, spoke again. "I know it doesn't sound like an ideal situation. I get that. But your chances aren't as low as you think."
Owen looked at him without saying anything.
"The character you're auditioning for, Sejanus, is eighteen, from what I gathered. You're twenty. The actor they're about to lock in is twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight. His name's Josh Rivera, if I'm not mistaken. He's fine, but he's right on the edge of being believable as a teenager," Larry explained.
"And when you have two options, and one of them naturally fits the age better, feels fresher, and can act just as well… the studios take that into account," he added.
"I understand," Owen nodded. He had an advantage there, his age.
"Besides, you've got nothing to lose by trying. You'll be in front of a top-tier casting director. Possibly the director too. Maybe even a producer. High-profile people who, even if they don't pick you for this role, will remember you. And sometimes that opens doors you'd never expect," Larry said, trying to convince him.
'I can create my own doors,' thought Owen.
He had hundreds of movies and series in his mind, works that didn't exist in this world. All he needed was money to fund them, and he could cast himself in any role he wanted. And there were hundreds of roles he could shape however he pleased.
It wasn't arrogance, just reality. But that didn't mean he wasn't interested in acting in new projects.
Projects he hadn't created. Not being in control of everything had its own appeal.
"Where's it being filmed?" he asked suddenly.
Larry looked at him closely, recognizing in the question a clear sign of genuine interest.
"Most of the shoot will be in North Carolina and Georgia. Natural locations replicating the areas described in the book. The production team already has everything ready," Larry answered.
Owen nodded calmly. That was good. It would suck to have to leave the country for months, especially knowing that a production of this scale wouldn't be short.
Of course he had to land the audition first. He stayed quiet for a few more seconds, weighing everything one last time.
"Alright. I'll do the audition. I'd be an idiot not to," Owen said simply.
Larry said nothing, but his expression changed immediately, relief and restrained excitement were evident.
He opened his bag, pulled out a folder with the printed scene, the one Debra had sent, and handed it to Owen.
Owen took it silently, skimmed a few lines, and then carefully placed it in his backpack.
They confirmed the exact address for the casting the next day at 2:00 p.m.
Larry offered to pick him up, but Owen said he'd go on his own and thanked him for the gesture.
Before parting ways, Larry made one last comment.
"At the audition… act as if I were your representative, alright? I told Debra that I am. If I hadn't, it would've seemed odd. Nobody arranges a private audition for an actor they don't represent," he said, scratching his head.
Owen couldn't help but smile slightly. "Sure, I will."
They shook hands and said goodbye.
Larry walked out with a lighter step, as if twenty pounds had just been lifted off his shoulders.
As he made his way down the sidewalk, he couldn't help but replay the meeting in his head. Owen wasn't like any actor he had ever met before.
And that said a lot, he'd dealt with dozens back in his better days.
Most of them, upon hearing "private audition for a hundred-million-dollar movie," would've reacted as if they'd just won an Oscar.
Shouting, excitement, a thousand questions per second, but Owen hadn't shown emotion at any moment.
He had simply analyzed, asked, and decided.
The only smile Larry had seen was right at the end, when he told him to act as if he were his agent. As if that comment had amused him in a way Larry couldn't quite grasp.
Maybe because of the absurdity of the situation.
Maybe because of something else that crossed his mind.
Larry didn't know. But what he did know was that he hadn't been wrong, this kid was different and if the world didn't know him yet, it was only a matter of time.
And Larry had to make sure he became his agent.
…
Owen returned to his apartment.
As he set his keys on the table, he wondered how Sophie would react when she found out.
Just a day ago, she'd said Larry gave her a bad feeling, that he seemed like just another desperate agent, too suspicious to trust.
Now, that desperate agent had gotten him a private audition for The Hunger Games 4.
A massive franchise, with a hundred-million-dollar budget.
He pictured Sophie's face and couldn't help but smile, looking forward to seeing her and watching her reaction when he told her.
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