Novels2Search

Chapter 15: Budget and Acting

"I'm here. Now, tell me what happened with the script," Mark huffed as he let his body absorb oxygen and remove carbon-dioxide rapidly to recover from all the running he had just performed.

"Why do you say called you for the script?" Nolan asked while ordering a chilled bear for himself and an orange juice for Mark.

"Would you call me at 9 in the night for something else?"

"... I suppose not... haha~" Nolan laughed dryly to cover for his mannerless behaviour of calling someone who could barely be called an acquaintance at such a late time, with such little notice, and not specifying why. Thankfully, Mark had guessed why he had called him to urgently.

"So? What is it?"

"We got it! We got an investor!"

"How much?"

"$6 million!"

"..."

"Say something! Are you shocked by the amount! Too stunned to speak? Haha!" Christopher Nolan laughed.

"What's the catch?"

"What are-" Nolan chuckled dryly, but was interrupted by Mark.

"No sane person would invest in us. We are nobody with no track record. What is the catch Nolan..."

"Well... he wants his son to be the main child character; Cole," Nolan said as he turned away to accept his drink from the bartender.

"Did you agree to him?" Mark asked while accepting his orange juice.

"No... I told him I would need to discuss with the scriptwriter since I had yet to purchase the script," Nolan sighed at having not instantly accepted the offer, while taking a sip from his beer.

"Good. Tell him we need to see his son's acting before agreeing to it. If the acting... even after multiple takes... is able to produce decent acting... we will take him up on his offer," Mark added while taking a sip from his own orange juice.

"Perfect!"

"Thought... I d have to ask. How much will I get for the script?"

"Well... if we do get the $6 million for the movie... I can a most give you $80,000 upfront."

"How about giving me $50,000, but an additional $150,000 if the movie crosses $100 million in the total Box Office?"

"Haha! I'll actually take you up on that!"

"Hmm, but I will inform you, Nolan. any of my other scripts will not be so easily sold. This is my first work, which is why I am selling it for such a small amount."

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"But... I will get a discount no? As your trusty-old partner?"

"Naturally."

The two clinked classes at the bar, the odd sigh of someone drinking orange juice surrounded by drunk people somehow not feeling too out of place in the bar.

...

The next morning, Mark took the day off, using one of his 'sick leave' days for this monumental day. If things did not go wrong, he would finally have access to a moderately large sum of money. Enough to get things started... he hoped.

'But I will need more for the movie. At least a million dollars. Anything less, and it will not even be possible to make the full movie. The original Rocky 1, from what I can remember, was made with this budget, using some extreme cost-cutting methods to complete it within the budget. I will likely need more than this to make the movie, considering my existence will also change how easily the movie can be made.'

"You have a car?" Mark questioned as he got off at the bud stop and noticed Christopher Nolan sitting at the diver's seat of a... rather ugly-looking car.

"Nope. Just rented it for the day. A Volkswagen Beetle, guess how much it cost?"

"No clue. I am not a car person."

"$30! For the entire day! With a deposit of $500, in case I run away with it."

"We could have just taken the train."

"Nope. where we are going... no train goes."

"Buses."

"We'd still have to walk a few miles at least, plus, we need to make a good impression."

"It say's 'Rental Services' on the side..."

"That's why it was so cheap!"

"A good impression for sure..." Mark stretched out his words as he got into the odd-looking car, "It stinks," Mark commented while scrunching his nose to avoid the smell of wet clothes emanating from the seats.

"It wont once we get going..." Nolan chuckled dryly as he turned on the ignition and put the car into gear.

...

A long and incredibly unpleasant 4-hour drive from San Rafael to the outskirts of Los Angeles brought Mark and Christopher Nolan to a rather luxurious-looking, but very isolated three-story mansion. Placed at the top of a tall but gently sloping mountain, the mansion was surrounded on all sides by thick vegetation that were clearly planted by man; in neat rows. This allowed Mark and Nolan, travelling on the single two-way paved road to the mansion to see far through the corridors of emptiness between each row of trees.

"This doesn't look anything like the secret base of a supervillain..." Nolan chuckled while beginning to form sweat on his back.

"I thought you knew where we were going?"

"I do. But I have never actually been here. I met the man in Los Angeles at a... gathering. He gave me this address."

"And you just took it at face value before checking if it was real? What if this is an elaborate trap by some of the elite rich who want to perform less than legal rituals with us?" Mark used this moment to try and scare Nolan even further, and it seemed to work as the man's fingers began trembling slightly and his eyes began darting around, checking for signed of danger.

"Wh- what now? Should we turn back?"

"Nah. In for a penny, in for a pound. We are already here. Let's just go and see how it is. I know a little martial arts. I'll stall 'them' if anything happens while you get the car started when we are escaping. Just make sure to keep the keys with you in an easy to access location.

"S- sure."

"Are you getting enjoyment from this? He is supposed to be your future partner!" Mark's father materialised in the back seat while shaking his head.

'Says the one who cheated on his life partner...' Mark rebutted in his mind, causing the older man to immediately shut his mouth, unable to retort.

And so, the emotionless Mark who was somehow feeling a little joy at his own actions, the scared Nolan, and a stunned imaginary ghost drove into what looked like a bond villain's home...

'What could possible go wrong?' Mark thought to himself.