Alighting the inter-city bus, Mark breathed in the fresh spring air. Compared to Los Angeles, there were multitudes of fewer people, and with less population came less pollutants, be it from vehicles, garbage, or electricity consumption. As such, the air here just felt better compared to Los Angeles.
'I wonder... what is actually feels like to feel fresh air, and not just air with less pollutants. Perhaps I should find a story which conveys that and read it here in spring... only then will I get the true experience...' Mark mused as the bus departed for its next destination; the petrol station.
'Hmm, it is unusual that we call it petrol as well, and not gasoline,' Mark commented internally before recalling the address he needed to go. After asking for directions from a few passers-by, Mark finally made it to LucasFilms. This time around, it was not in a forgotten corner of a building, tucked away in the outskirts of the city. No, this was what felt like the down-town area, with a proper office-flat in a moderately large commercial building.
“Hello. I’m Mark Whitehall, the intern for junior screenwriter. I’m actually new in town, so I was wondering if you could tell me where I can go to rent myself a nice and cheap place,” Mark said with a gentle smile on his face, one that he had learned to keep on his face almost at all times. By now, it had become completely natural to keep a smile on his face.
'A smile is a very useful tool. It can be used to hide my emotionlessness, while also making the opposite individual feel less guarded. Unfortunately, most of my early attempts at a smile were either similar to villains and ghosts from the Horror genre like IT, or were just not smiles at all, but over time, I have been able to make it spotless. Still, it does require some concentration to maintain, so it is best to avoid sudden situations.'
“Oh, there is a really good real-estate management company right next door. I think they’re called Sam’s Realty. It’s cheap and knows all the good spots. A lot of our staff goes there.”
“Thank you so much, Ms....”
“It’s Mrs. Butler.”
“You’re married? Surely you’re joking right? How could someone so young be married already. You must be what 19?”
Mark made some small-talk with the receptionist to make sure she remembered him of the undoubtedly many new and old employees. He knew from personal experience that having a good relationship with receptionists from small companies, and the housekeeping staff for large companies was a sure way to success. They could get you in or out of places and situations that may be important to you.
After that, he left for the neighbouring flat, with the plan of getting a place to rent at a price just enough to be able to afford with his soon to be intern salary, with enough money for daily necessities, and a little extra for savings.
…
"So, how is this one?" Ralph, Mark's temporary real-estate agent for the town of San Rafael unlocked the door to a small apartment on the third-floor of a 12-story residential building.
Mark walked in and nodded. It had an AC and a heater for both types of weather, and also had a television. A small raised wooden bed in one corner while a seating area to another side. There was a bathroom next to the 'sofa' which was just a single-person cushioned chair and one chair with a table below the bed, facing towards the window.
"So, all the furniture comes along with the flat right?"
"Of course. Oh, and correct me if I'm wrong, you are a writer?"
"Yeah... how did you know?" Mark fiend surprise and interest, but he was already satisfied with the flat considering its rental price.
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"Well, the only people Mr. Lucas has hired for the past few weeks are those computer nerds, and writers, and you don't strike me as the former," Ralph motioned to the well-built body that was visible through his tight-fitted clothes.
"I suppose not," Mark did not act embarrassed, as it was one of the few emotions he had not been able to successfully emulate in his previous life, without looking like a skin-walker at least.
"So, the previous tenant bought a lot of the furniture for this flat, and in exchange for a lower rent for a few years, left them behind as part of the apartment," Ralph bent down, and pulled at one of the two drawers to the table, revealing a typewriter in pretty-good condition, at least from the outside.
"There is ink, some pens, paper, pencils, erasers and some other stationary in the other drawer. I know its not much, but it sure is something. Am I right?"
"I'll take it."
"Now I know it may be a little distance from the bus transport, but in exchange it is walking distance from your new workplace... what?"
"I'll take it," Mark repeated without any change in expression.
"Ah, alright then, let me get the documents sorted out, and you can move in tonight!"
"Good. It is already night, and I'm surprised you are working overtime for me."
"Well, we cannot leave our customers homeless now can we? But in reality, and this did not come from me, every deal we broker, the company gets half of what brokerage we take from the deal, I get the rest. It isn't much, but having a few customers like you every few days is enough to keep my stomach full."
"Makes sense. Let's complete the rental application in your office as soon as possible."
"Yes, but you will have to come to the registry tomorrow. government documents and all. Do not worry thought, I've already had a talk with the owner, and he is alright with letting you stay the night while we get the documents sorted out and registered tomorrow."
"That is... kind of him."
"Her. And yet, she is rather lenient with her tenants, and long as they do not produce an excessive amount of noise or damage the flats."
"Good. Shall we?" Mark asked as he motioned out the door, following behind Ralph who got the cue and left the apartment and heading to their office.
...
'Personal computers are still a few years from becoming available to common people like me, and at least a decade away from becoming affordable. The typewriter will do in the mean time. Since I have the motor functions of the old Mark, using the typewriter is not an issue for me, but it's best to get some practice before heading out to work in three days time.'
Mark made his plan while laying in the bed of his newly rented apartment, and only after panning out his days before work began did he allow his eyes to close and fell asleep almost instantly.
...
The next morning, the first thing he did after breakfast was making his lease official, to protect the rights of both involved parties. Only here did he see his renter; she was a young woman who wore business clothes as thought she was working a job.
'Considering the amount of money she earned from the apartment building, she has enough money to get by. That could only mean she is ambitious, has something to prove, or has a dream she wishes to achieve,' however, Mark did not pay too much attention to her, and the attitude was apparently mutual as she left as soon as the documents were signed and stamped.
Upon returning home, Mark pulled out a notebook. He did not touch the papers that were to be fed into the typewriter. He needed to plan some things for what he was going to type out, and it was this planning process that was both more important to a successful result in anything, and also allowed Mark to better immerse himself in whatever he was creating.
...
The next two days were spent just like that, as he finally stopped scribbling in his notebook with a pencil, and instead pulled out the typewriter out, fed in the paper and made sure the ink was working before beginning to write the title of the script on the cover-page.
[Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 1)]
[The movie begins with Dr. Malcolm Crowe, a successful child psychologist, celebrating a major achievement with his wife, Anna. He has been honoured by the city of Philadelphia for his outstanding contributions to child psychology. At home, they share a tender moment before realising that something is wrong. They discover that someone has broken into their house. That intruder is Vincent Grey, a former patient of Malcolm's from years ago. Vincent, now an adult, is deeply disturbed and accuses Malcolm of failing him. He is tormented by memories of his childhood and the psychological problems he experienced, which Malcolm apparently couldn’t fix. In a sudden fit of rage, Vincent shoots Malcolm and then takes his own life. The scene fades as Malcolm lies on the bed, bleeding, with Anna at his side.]
Mark stopped at the end of the first scene. It was already getting pretty late, and he had the first day of his new job the next morning. Plus, he even had to call in with Eddie to make sure things were going well before heading to work.