《Alternate Past in Hollywood as a Writer (Rewritten)》


 Chapter 1: Reality and Lucas Films

    Mark stretched in bed as his eyes squinted from the sliver of bright sunlight making its way through the gap in the curtains.


    ¡®Ah¡­ the bane of sleep¡­ yet superman¡¯s strength¡­ nuclear fusion.¡¯


    After lampooning about superman¡¯s method of gaining strength, Mark pulled his lethargic body out of bed and into the bathroom. While brushing half asleep, he remembered that his air conditioner was still on, so with a brush in his mouth and no t-shirt, he walked over to his table, only to be unable to find the remote.


    ¡®Alright, I¡¯ll do this after I¡¯ve washed my face and found my spectacles.¡¯


    A while of brushing, washing his face, and putting on his blue spectacles, Mark walked back out of the bathroom, still shirtless and noticed his room looked completely different, as though it was not his room to begin with.


    His ductless smart-AC had been replaced by an old and warn-out window-AC. The large flat-screen O-LED TV was replaced with a much smaller, and much thicker box-TV. On his table, instead of his laptop with his novels and scripts, were a stack of notebooks and textbooks related to various academic subjects as well as a few board games.


    In a panic, Mark reached over to the pocket of his pants, only to realise he was wearing boxers and the only pocket it had was on the back, which was empty. He turned around to the side-tables of his bed and found nothing, so he hurriedly flipped over his blanket and the sheets, and still found nothing except a pack of gum.


    ¡®My phone¡­¡¯


    Depressed at the loss of his phone, Mark trudged out of his room, only to realise where he was staying was also different. It was no longer the apartment he had bought for himself, but it was still an apartment near the outskirts of Los Angeles, only it was much smaller.


    With one bedroom, one bathroom inside the bedroom, a small kitchen that was part of the living room that was smaller than the bedroom itself. The only window of the apartment was in the bedroom, and everything else had to be lit using electric lights.


    *Knock*


    *Knock*


    ¡°Mark, getchyo a*s out here! We gotta go!¡±


    Suddenly, Mark heard what sounded like an African-American man speaking in a rather odd way, sounding closer to Eddie-Murphy from Dr. Dolittle.


    Then, with a loud thud inside his mind, Mark felt a profound understanding of his current situation.


    He was Mark Whitehall, a 21-year-old who just passed out of Community College here in Las Angeles, having studied mainly screenplay and directing. He did not have any parents, only one estranged older brother who lived in New York, and a few distant relatives. But more importantly, he was not Mark.


    ''Well, I am Mark, just not this Mark. He looks similar to me, but looks fit and athletic. It feels really weird feeling this healthy,'' Mark thought to himself as he flexed his bicep in the mirror.


    ''Heh, I actually have a friend now... is this some sort of dream?'' Mark thought to himself as memories of his new body flooded into his mind. Yet, none of the emotions of this Mark went into him, only the memories. It felt really odd, like watching someone else''s life in a movie, but quite literally through their eyes.


    The new Mark''s body he had taken over was a freshly graduated student... from the batch of 1976?


    ''What in the world? I''ve taken over the body of someone who looks like a more fit me... but was born in the 1950s? Hmm? What is this?'' as the memories passed, Mark realised something. Not only was he in the past, but it seemed like an alternate history of the original. Some novels and movies which were already famous by now were not present here, while others which should not have even existed, were incredibly successful now.


    ''Wait... so I really did die back then... I mean in the future?'' Mark thought to himself as he recalled his own life.


    Born to an adequately successful family, Mark did not have any complaints other than the fact that neither of his parents were around for much of his life. And the little while they had been around, they spent it with his younger but academically and physically more adept sister. That was why he had left his home to live alone and make a life for himself at the age of 18, as soon as he legally could.


    Unfortunately, he was never good with talking to people. not just talking, but feeling emotions for or with people was also something he did not often experience. Perhaps it was the way he was raised and a defence mechanism to prevent himself from ever being hurt by others, or perhaps it was just the way he was, but he never felt anger or jealousy towards his parents or sister. He never felt frustration or anything of the like. But on the other hand, he never felt love either. They were just there for a portion of his life, living in the world immediately around him, but when he left they were no longer there, and he still felt nothing.


    The one place he could feel something was through fiction. He did not know why that was so, but reading novels and watching movies gave him brief glimpses into the one thing his world lacked, emotions. He felt the sorry of characters losing their loved ones, he felt the joy of saving the world, he felt the satisfaction of getting revenge no matter how illegal, and he felt the powerlessness of the side-characters.


    And yet, he felt nothing as soon as he finished immersing himself in the stories, which was why he decided to write scripts, to make stories he could feel emotions from. For him, the process of writing felt just as, if not more emotional than reading books or watching movies. Over the course of his career, he had successfully written dozens of movie scripts with only 5 being sold, and only 2 being made into considerably successful movies. However, his best work remained in the television series section where he wrote the scripts of one show that made it into Netflix, and even had three move seasons before he decided to end it.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    His career was in full swing, despite being over 50 in 2020, but everything changed when an armed burglary turned into a homicide, and he instantly lost his parents and his sister went into a comatose state, with no reaction to the external world.


    Mark had finally felt something he had only felt when experiencing media.


    Greif


    And it felt incredibly painful. It felt like his heart was bleeding for the first time ever. The pain almost felt physical, and unable to take it anymore, he took a knife and plunged it into his heart to try and stop the pain... which it did rather effectively.


    ''So I died from emotions... a fitting end to what I can only describe as a robot. But then why am I here? And who is this body? Why have I taken over it? Where is the original owner?'' Mark had many questions, but he simple compartmentalised them to be processed later as he thought of how to answer the one outside his apartment. It was Eddie as the original Mark called him; Edward Murphy, Mark''s one and only friend.


    Much like the current Mark, the original Mark who own this body was also devoid of much emotion, and had never gotten close to anyone. Only the extremely outgoing neighbour who went to the same college as him and graduated at the same time as well somehow managed to wriggle his way into a friendship despite being an unrequited friendship.


    ''Hmm, today appears to be the ''job interview'' both of us were going for. For me, it was actually a job interview as a scriptwriter, but for Eddie it appears to be an audition. Well, he is a 20 year old African-America in the late 1970s, I doubt he will easily get a role. Hmm, as for me, I do not need the job,'' Mark thought as he recalled a conversation he had with his father before leaving.


    ...


    "Mark, why are you doing this?" his mother yelled as tears fell from her eyes uncontrollably.


    "..." Mark did not respond, and kept his unfazed expression on his face.


    "Are you sure you do not want to join the business? It will earn you a tidy sum, enough to live your life and build a family." his father embraced his crying mother while looking out the window behind her, talking to Mark without looking at him.


    "Yes. I will write scripts. It is the only time I feel something."


    "Alright. Then go, and become a successful scriptwriter. But remember, we are always here, we will always be waiting if you do not succeed. Just remember to try your level best, it is important to chase your dreams even in hardships. If I had not, I would not have built my woodworking company. I would not have convinced your mother''s family to allow her to marry me, and nor would any of you even exist."


    ...


    ''I did not keep my promise. I could not become a successful scriptwriter. Instead of focusing on the other aspects of scriptwriting, like forming connections with others to be able to sell my scripts, I spent years immersing myself in emotions while constantly writing things. Only later did I realise that I also have to talk to people and make friends to be able to sell my work and have it turned into movies and shows.''


    ''But you also did not keep your promise did you? You were not there for me...'' Mark once again felt the same emotion he had felt when he got the news, and saw his sister laying unconscious on the hospital bed. Thankfully it was not as bad as before.


    ''Mother... Father... Lucy... since I have been given a second chance at life, I will not waste it like last time. I will make sure to become the most successful scriptwriter in history. And for that, I suppose I do need a scriptwriting job.'' After thinking rapidly and finding logic in that train of thought, Mark made his decision and turned to speak to Eddie.


    ¡°Coming Eddie. Just need to change into my work clothes.¡±


    However, Eddie did not wait and instead walked over the flower pot next to the door, and lifted up his freshly pressed office shirt sleeve, and dug his hand into the mud. Moments later he pulled out a key and unlocked the door, to the view of a half naked Mark putting on his shirt, with no pants.


    ¡°Man, we are already 10 minutes late!¡±


    ¡°Eddie the plan was for each of us to reach 2 hours early.¡±


    ¡°I know! It ain¡¯t enough time Mark! I¡¯m tellin¡¯ ya! We gotta go! Your Writer¡¯s Guild and my Actors Association only gave each of us 2 free job-notices. Everythin¡¯ after than will be paid, and we can¡¯t pay for nothin¡¯ we broke b*tch.¡±


    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m almost ready. Do you have the tickets?¡±


    ¡°Right here. Mine is going up north, yours goes south, but it should take each of us only 12 minutes to reach. All the f*cking best bud!¡±


    Edward offered the ticket and a handshake much like the one in Predator between two men fighting for their lives.


    ¡°All the very f*cking best my man!¡±


    Mark accepted the handshake and pulled Eddie slightly closer, but no expression on his face.


    ¡°My Man.¡±


    Eddie grinned, knowing this was the most expressive Mark had been for weeks, before slapping the back of Mark¡¯s head with his other hand.


    ¡°Get ready! I ain¡¯ gonna be late cause of ya!¡±


    2 minutes later, with an unbuttered bread in his mouth, Mark and Edward left their room and headed to the bus station.


    ...


    After saying goodbye, the two boarded different busses and headed off after another goodbye. On the bus, Mark looked down at his hands while pondering his current condition and future while recalling his past, which was set in the future.


    ...


    Lucy was his younger sister. Despite that, she was both smarter and more athletic than his old self. In fact, she even went on to become a qualified surgeon at the local hospital after having completed her residency and fellowship, moving on to become a renowned liver surgeon with years of experience and countless operations under her belt.


    He recalled her smiling face as she often helped him understand his literature back when they were kids, and living with their parents. He had not seen her or his parents after he let and changed his name.


    However, the fa?ade he had unconsciously built around himself, thinking he did not care about them came crashing down the moment the burglary happened.


    "Akh-" Mark opened his eyes and clucked his chest again, expecting the pain similar to when he had killed himself before to repeat again, but it never came, leaving him huffing for air and covered in sweat.


    *Sigh*


    Taking in a deep breath and exhaling through his nostrils, Mark focussed his mind and distracted himself from those depressing memories.


    ''I remember many of the best movies and shows. I remember them vividly because they were effectively the only part of the soulless life with moderate amounts of emotions and colours. I could make the ones that were not released or produced yet to make a name for myself, and then produce my own works as well. Plagiarism is not an issue. I cannot have such brilliant works of emotion not exist in this world. I will make it so that this alternate world will also have just as many if not more colours.''


    However, before he could delve into those thoughts any further, the bus came to a stop and it was where he was supposed to get off.


    Thanking the buss driver before getting off, Mark walked down the street, making a few turns and asking for a few directions before reaching a rather sketchy-looking building.


    Luckily, he was not in the wrong place as he found the waiting room in no time, which was surprisingly half empty, meaning there were not as many people applying for the job as the company had expected.


    This meant that he had a higher chance of joining it. If this truly was the same Lucas-Films that had created Star-Wars, he could add his name to an incredibly successful movie. And if it was not, the job still gave a decent pay, enough for Mark to put food on his plate, pay for rent, just barely.

 Chapter 2: Son of a...

    ¡°Mr. Whitehall.¡±


    When his name was called, Mark stood up, straightened his light-blue shirt, tightened his tie to give the appearance of nervousness and adjusted his spectacles. Over the years he had lived his old live, he had learned to ''emulate'' emotions, to act in certain ways given particular situations to seem normal, and it had worked like a charm. Most people thought he was normal when he started making ''friends'' and selling his work.


    Silently, Mark followed the curly-haired assistant into a meeting room with no windows, and only two people inside.


    One of them was a man smoking a cigarette, while the other was a man with curly hair. However, it was the second man that caught Mark¡¯s attention. Greeting the two men while portraying suppressed nervousness, Mark waited for them to ask for him to sit on the seat that was in the middle of the room.


    ¡°So, Mr¡­ Whitehall, why do you want the job?¡± The man smoking a cigarette flipped through a stack of papers before finding Mark¡¯s resume and placing it on the table, squarely between Mr. Lucas and himself.


    ¡°I heard the company was going to make a movie in the science fiction genre. Since I was little, I have been enthralled by the science fiction, futuristic, and high-fantasy genres that are essentially not rooted in our current reality. I definitely wanted to be a part of such a project, no matter what," Mark said, while clenching his fists in an exaggerated manner to make it seem he was deeply moved by the subject.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ and why should we take you over the other aspirants. You do know that despite its title, the pay is good, and as long as your performance is good, you will be shifted to becoming a permanent employee of the company.¡±


    ¡°¡­ You¡¯ve read my resume. I¡¯ve got no work under my name. I¡¯m a fresh graduate, as a matter of fact, I graduated just yesterday and have yet to receive all my documentation. But I have one thing, that is important as a creator of anything, be it art, literature, print media, or even movies. It¡¯s not skill or talent. Skills can be learned and talent is subjective¡­ many times its just the luck of being in the right place at the right time, and many times it hides the rigorous efforts of the individual to reach where they are. What I have, is creativity. Creativity without skill makes you a diamond in the rough; skills can be learned with time as long as you have the vision. Skill without creativity makes you polished copper, shining at its best, but still lacking in the most fundamental aspect compared to diamonds; material. I can learn the skill, and I have the creativity. What would that make me Mr. Lucas?"


    ¡­


    Leaving the audition room with Lucas¡¯ personal card, Mark had an impassive expression. In the interview earlier, he had spoke about the fantastical worlds of Aliens, and the world of Warcraft. He also talked about the Lord of the Rings universe, as well as the Warhammer 40k universe. Of course, he was being really vague about everything, so as not to give them man any ideas to create those works and potentially take it away from him. Unfortunately thought, Stars Wars clearly existed in this world, and George Lucas was currently in the process of making it, so that was out of the question. Hopefully though, it would be just as successful as it had been in the original past


    These would be his big blockbuster movies that he could build into a franchise... once the Visual Effects were up to standard of course, and he did not want George Lucas to steal the from him. Creating scripts and creating movies was one of the few things that brought colours to his emotionless and almost stale life.


    Ultimately, after a 30 minute interview, compared to the 5 minutes the others got, Mark got the internship, and the personal card of Lucas who saw potential in him. Work would start in 10 days, but he had to shift to the smaller town of San Rafael, which was almost 500 miles away. Commuting that distance everyday was effectively impossible, and most definitely uneconomical.


    As luck would have it, his rent was only paid until the end of the week, so he would stay for the next three days before shifting over to San Rafael, where he would also need to find a place to rent. Hopefully, it would be cheaper than Los Angeles, since it was a smaller town with potentially fewer people and more space.


    ¡­


    ¡°So, did you get role?¡± Mark asked in mock interest.


    ¡°Nah. But it¡¯s cool. I still got another free option. What aboutchu?¡± Eddie asked Mark with a slightly dejected but optimistic tone.


    ¡°You are looking at the new intern for junior screenwriter of LucasFilms. My path to the greatest writer in history has only just begun.¡± Mark raised both his fists into the air with excitement... that was never really there.


    ¡°Holy Sh*t! Holy Sh*t! That¡¯s amazing!¡± Eddie pulled Mark into a hug and lifted him off the ground, and began spinning him around out of joy.


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    "Haha... haha... haha," as Mark was being spun, his dizziness caused his focus to slip. His laughter became mechanical while his smiling expression faded to be replaced by a flat one. Thankfully, Eddie''s head was a little lower than his own, and he had his eyes closed as he celebrated.


    ¡°Put me down and listen.¡± Mark huffed in mock exasperation after gaining back control of his facial features, and gently but firmly knocking Eddie''s chin, causing the man to lose balance immediately.


    ''Interesting. Something like that worked on Eddie... I suppose despite the physically superior genes, he is not built to fight. Acting was a good choice logically.''


    ¡°But I gotta shift to San Rafael permanently if I become a junior screenwriter from my current intern position. Till then, it will be a temporary change in residency," Mark added after Eddie collected himself off the cold night street.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s go for a drink,¡± Eddie frowned.


    Unlike the night before, where they were drinking to party and enjoy with the women at the bar, this time, they the mood was sombre, almost depressing, despite the rowdy scene around them caused by the other college graduates.


    ¡°Remember when Ma followed us all the way to college to make sure it was safe for me.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, then she saw me and realised how dependable I was, so she allowed you to go to college," Mark recalled the scene and remembered Eddie''s over-protective mother follow behind them as they took the public bus to college, only turning away once they reached the university grounds. Surprisingly, she only did that once and never again, which the old Mark chalked up to her realising it was no longer an only-white school. Still, Mark made it a joke to seem more normal. It was one of the things normal people did... make ''light'' of serious situations to lower he emotional burden one has from said situations.


    Mark had no need for this, but he had learned to adjust his humour to the type of people he would speak with, and depending on the situations. For example, in formal settings, it was better not to make jokes except one in an entire speech sentences to lighten a depressing or over-serious mood.


    ¡°Nah, she saw them other n*gg*s going to the white college and that¡¯s why she let me go. You foo.¡±


    ¡°¡­And here I thought I was dependable.¡±


    ¡°And here I thought you were.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡­


    The two continued their conversation for a while before deciding it was best not to get wasted two nights in a row, and walked home around midnight.


    ¡°Hey Eddie, remember back in college when we made the comedy monologue?¡± Mark, affected by the alcohol differently to normal people jut had his motor functions jumbled, not his mind. still, they were not as wasted as the day before when the old Mark and Eddie drank till they fainted and then some more since they had just graduated, and Eddie wanted Mark to ''enjoy life for once''.


    ¡°Yeah. I remember, I acted it out and the whole class began laughing their a*ses off," Eddie stumbled a little while walking.


    ¡°Even Mrs. Green chuckled.¡±


    ¡°First I ever seen her not frown."


    ¡°I later made George act it out only to me. The script was not that great. I barely even smiled at it. Eddie¡­ I think you have a talent for comedy. Perhaps you should try out some roles like that, instead of directly auditioning for supporting roles, try to go for a comedy supporting role. From my understanding, as long as you have acted once before, and it was not terrible, you should get to act again. Plus¡­ you''re black¡­ getting a main role will be harder for you, but getting a supporting role will be easier actually. They gotta represent society as a whole somehow, putting in a black cast member should solve any social issues the movie might face.¡±


    ¡°Hah! At first they didn¡¯t want any of us, now they gotta have at least one of us in any movie.¡±


    ''It is indeed strangely inefficient to discriminate against people with different skin colour. Then again, it has been... almost a defining factor of humanity. Conflict; an inherent instinct for humans. Perhaps now that society is ''peaceful'' and had ''rules'' that prevent physical conflict, the battlefield for internal conflict has shifted to verbal and mental areas. Or perhaps all three already existed... and it was only after the halting of physical fights did the other forms of combat truly come out.''


    ¡®Anyway, discriminating against once smaller minority would inevitably lead to that minority sticking together, and resisting being absorbed into the cohesive whole, resulting in many smaller ''groups'' being formed within a nation. different religions, skin colours, accents, birthplaces, current residencies, even hobbies and families split people into smaller groups.''


    Mark mused over the inherent disadvantages humanity had while, the duo returned home and Mark went to bed.


    The next morning, he spend brainstorming his own and Eddie¡¯s future. He wanted to ensure Eddie succeeded in his acting career, that way, he would have a close ''friend'' as a successful actor.


    As such, he got together a comprehensive plan, based on which movies were currently in development, and picked the open audition opportunities for him. He also pulled out a portion of his own savings, and put it into an envelope with a letter indicating all the possible opportunities he could audition for in the coming weeks, all requiring African-American side characters.


    This information had taken some time to collect, but the various magazines and gazettes he had lying around in his rented room had enough information about acting opportunities.


    ¡®Hopefully you get at least one role to get the ball rolling. Hmm... I should create a hopeful story first.. to feel it; hope."


    Mark also instructed him to get an agent as soon as he got a role, but not to sign any contract lasting longer than 2 years. Eddie was technically in the prime of his life, but at the lowest point in his career. He could not be chained by a legal contract for too long. Longer contracts were best for well-established actors.


    This process took him two whole days, and he handed Edward the letter just before he entered the bus, and told him to open it when he returned to his apartment.


    When Eddie opened the envelope and saw the cash inside, he was confused for a while before he began reading the letter.


    ¡°Son of a¡­¡±


    ¡­


    Meanwhile, Mark was enjoying the refreshing spring breeze as the bus did not have any air-conditioning. The bus was on a route to three bus stations within Los Angeles before heading over to San Rafael. The journey was long and tiring, but nothing interesting happened and Mark reached San Rafael without any issues.

 Chapter 3: Script-writing

    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.

 Chapter 4: A Slave

    The next morning, Mark woke up, and wore his shirt and pants, and his spectacles, with an empty notebook, a stationary pouch containing pencils, sharpeners, erasers, pens, and some whiteners, in a small briefcase, he left for work.


    ''I like to imagine I''m alone sometimes... apocalypse or maybe a plague? Whatever the case; there would be no one left to act for? To ''create'' false emotions for. To create a fa?ade for... It would be... freeing.'' Mark smiled as he walked along the busy morning road, with many people walking on the same side-walk as him, going in both directions.


    Thankfully, it was not an overcrowded city like Los Angeles, and even if it was, he did not know any of the people, so he could be his normal self around them.


    ''At least until I reach the office...'' Mark frowned at the idea of having to put up a smile again when interacting with people, but did not slow his footsteps, ''The goal is more important than the hurdles along the way,'' Mark reasoned in his mind.


    ¡­


    ¡°Morning Mrs. Butler! How are you?¡± Mark greeted her at the counter.


    ¡°Oh Mark, the same as usual. Are you here for your first day?¡±


    ¡°Yup! Hopefully I do well enough to get the permanent job.¡±


    ¡°Good luck then! Make sure not to be rude to others, it will help in your chances of getting the job.¡±


    ¡°Thank you!¡± Mark nodded his head to her before flashing a confident smile to Mrs. Butler, the kind he had perfected over his years of faking it.


    ''It is true then... what they say... Fake it till you make it...''


    Random thoughts flashed across Mark''s emotion deprived mind as he walked past the receptionist area that was right in front of the door and into the bustling office.


    He was used to this kind of office in the small and medium-sized production companies he had worked with early in his career. there were many new faces to the more experienced individuals of the company, causing a lot of confusion on how things worked. If those who were there before were able to maintain control and organise the new employees within a short period of time, then things would return to how peaceful they were before. However, if the new employees organise themselves and found representatives to do so, the older employees would be shunned by the new employees and things would get increasingly more difficult for Mr. Lucas to handle.


    ¡°Hey you! Mark was it? You¡¯re the intern for screenwriting right? Quick, go and get 5 coffees for the screenwriting group. We have run out already. Then come to that meeting room there. We have a lot of work to be completed before the rest of the company can begin work."


    ¡°Of course,¡± Mark nodded and turned to leave. Upon leaving he made his way to a good coffee place and bought 6 to-go. This was a place Ralph; the real-estate agent who found him the place to rent, and he had taken an afternoon break while travelling from apartment to apartment trying to find the one that fit Mark''s specifications.


    ''It should be a few more days at most before they realise the need for a coffee machine and a heated pot. It will be far more efficient than having the interns from each department head out every few hours to bring everyone coffee,'' thoughts raced across Mark''s mind, but he did not care. In fact, he did not mind anything, as everything inconvenient to him was just that, a mere hurdle to be passed inevitably.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Finally, Mark made his way back to the company. However, the cacophony he had experienced when he first arrived had vanished, and everyone was diligently working. He could not hear any noise from the reception area other than muted whispers and the clicking and scribbling of pens and pencils.


    "Mr. Lucas has arrived a few minutes ago. The bunch just shut'' emselves right up."


    "Makes sense," Mark smiled in acknowledgement before bringing the coffees into the silent office space, and into the meeting room he was instructed to go to. Currently, the only teams with access to a meeting room were the screenwriters as they were in charge of putting Mr. Lucas¡¯ new movie idea into a comprehensive script.


    *Knock*


    *Knock*


    ¡°Come in!¡± The hoarse voice of the person who had sent Mark on the errand rang clearly as Mark pushed the door open with his only free hand. He silently nodded to the one who was standing, and appeared to be in charge of the screenwriters, before handing out the coffees to everyone while softly greeting them. A total of 5 people including the one who was standing.


    Keeping the sixth coffee for himself, he took a seat near the other end of the table, but not right opposite the one in charge, and instead to one side.


    ¡°Good, everyone, this is Mark; the new intern for junior screenwriter. Mark, this is the screenwriting team; Bob, Silvia, Dan, Luke, and me, Kraig. I am the senior screenwriter and the one in charge of this new project, everyone else is a junior screenwriter. Anyways, we got work to do now boys¡­ no time to waste.¡±


    ¡°Silvia, please give him a brief about what the project will be about, and what exactly we need to do. Then, have him join us in brain storming the overarching plot. We will use all the help we can get since we don¡¯t have too long to come up with a rough draft.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± Silvia, the short-haired brunette who seemed to be only a few years older than Mark brought him out of the meeting room, and explained the project.


    ¡®Star Wars it is... Kraig will be my main focus here as working closely with him will allow my to be promoted from an intern to a full-time employee.''


    Mark nodded at everything Silvia said, to portray that he was paying full attention to her words.


    ''I never quite understood the need for forcing someone to nod to prove they are listening to you? Would it not be more efficient to just ensure what you are saying is indeed that interesting or important to the opposite person before saying it. Else, even with nodding, they are unlikely to remember much from the conversation.''


    ¡°Alright, that is it for the list of what Mr. Lucas wants. A science-fiction movie involving a fantasy element which not everyone can make use of. The main character should be one of those who could make use of this power, while the rest of the story should focus on him, with the political plot occurring in the background. We need a united and organised enemy to the main character who will not work in the shadows, while a major space-battle will occur at the end with the main character prevailing.¡±


    ¡°I see, thank you Ms. Silvia.¡±


    ¡°Good, now let¡¯s go. We need to sit in the meeting and help Kraig brainstorm a good plot.¡±


    ¡­


    Inside the meeting room, Mark observed as the world gradually took up form.


    ¡°So, the space wizards, or as Lucas calls them; the Jedi, will possess incredible power, but they will express intense refrain from meddling in worldly affairs. What we need now, is to find a background for the main character, Luke Skywalker, as Lucas named him," Kraig winked at the other junior scriptwriter named Luke.


    Mark just raised his hand in silence, waiting for Kraig to see, and he did, motioning for Mark to speak.


    ¡°Considering the currently¡­ improving societal situation¡­ he could be a slave.¡±


    ¡°A slave?¡± Kraig questioned.


    ¡°A slave, rising from the hellhole of a planet he was originally on, to go and save the galaxy with the power of friendship, hope, and sheer will. Or maybe not technically a slave. His parents could be slaves, and he could just have been born on the planet, free, but with no money, unable to leave.¡±


    ¡°We can remove the possibility of a father. We need the Jedi master that comes to bring him in to become his father figure!¡± Bob added onto Mark¡¯s idea, and the room burst into discussion once again while Kraig watched the scene for a few seconds. He turned around to the whiteboard behind him, and began writing.


    ¡®Luke Skywalker, son to a slave mother, and unknown father. Stuck on ¡®Slave Planet¡¯ until Jedi Master brings him out.¡¯


    Watching this being written on the whiteboard, everyone stopped their discussion and nodded unanimously. Everyone likes a redemption story, everyone liked rooting for the underdog. Especially if they could connect with the character on a deeper level than just looking at the world through their eyes.

 Chapter 5: Franchise

    The discussion continued for the entire day and Mark only returned home around 6 in the evening. However, he did not continue writing his script for The Sixth Sense, and instead picked up his phone and dialled up a number.


    "Wassup! Eddie here!"


    "Eddie, it''s me, Mark."


    "B*tch. you took four days to find a place to sleep? What, yo a*s was levitating for three nights?"


    "No..."


    "So you had a place."


    "Yes."


    "Oh my days! I told yo'' a*s to call me as soon as you got a phone!"


    "I... was busy. My apologies-"


    "Don''t gimme non-a-that. I know you ain''t feeling sorry for nothin'', at least be honest, b*tch! We known each other for what, five years now? You think I don''t know what you think like? Ya don'' ask girls out, ya don''t accept their invitations, hell, ya don''t even try asking them boys out! You don''t bother trynna to communicate with no one unless absolutely necessary. You know a lot o'' people find you odd."


    "Your point?"


    "See? Ya don''t even deny it, like you don''t feel ashamed or embarrassed? Right, my point is at least don''t lie that you feel sorry for your actions. You don''t. In fact, I sometimes find myself wondering if you actually feel anything at all."


    ''Oh... you don''t say~''


    "Alright. I will try to be honest."


    "Good. Now, have you started ya job?"


    "Yeah."


    "And? Is it good?"


    "Yeah."


    "..."


    "..."


    "So, Eddie, did you get in the audition you tried out for?"


    "Nah, but I still got a whole damn list of options you gave me, one of ''ems gotta have space for little old me!"


    "Yeah, it will, trust me."


    "I already am! Mark, I didn''t get to thank you for the-"


    *ting*


    Mark put the phone down, and pulled out the plug connecting the phone to the line. He did not have time to bother with such sob-stories of gratefulness. Expressing emotions to others was one of the most inefficient ways to spend your time, and Mark was not going to waste it with Eddie on such a... human topic.


    Instead, he turned his attention to the notes placed to his side and began editing the first scene he had written the previous day. It was an early draft and he should have just hand-written it in pencil or the likes, but he wanted the practice of typing before work today, so he had typed it out. Now, he was making changes to the dialogue, adding a few and removing some unimportant ones. After all, he did not have perfect memory from his past, and was instead using his memories of the movie and his skills as a scriptwriter to essentially write a new script that would closely depict the emotions behind the original one.


    Soon, he was done making changes, and wrote out a new first scene. Somehow though, it was already 10 and he was really hungry. Instead of wasting time going out for dinner, he opened the shopping bag full of stuff, that he had bought on the way back home, and pulled out his old-trusted; the humble instant noodles.


    ...


    After a quick but filling dinner, he turned to write down, like the newly revised first scene, in pencil, the second scene.


    [Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 2)]


    [The film then jumps forward to the following autumn. Malcolm has survived the shooting and is back to work, though he appears emotionally distant and detached, particularly from his wife, who now seems cold and withdrawn. Malcolm begins working with a new patient, 9-year-old Cole Sear, who is exhibiting symptoms similar to those Vincent displayed as a child. Cole is an isolated, anxious boy, living alone with his single mother, Lynn. He is clearly troubled by something, but Malcolm is unable to pinpoint the cause at first. He starts following Cole¡¯s behaviour, observing him at home and at school. Cole is shy and uncomfortable around other people, and he¡¯s often bullied by his classmates.]


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    This one still needed a lot of grammar corrections and even more dialogue and pacing corrections, but it was a good first draft. Plus, he could directly make many changes on it without having to rewrite it since it was done in pencil, so it would be faster to work out than the first scene.


    However, it was already night so Mark closed his notebook and went to sleep for the night.


    ...


    The next morning, the first thing he did was reconnect his phone landline cable, before backing up his suitcase and heading off to work. Since he lived rather close-by, and it was early enough that the sun did not bother him, and instead, it was pleasantly cool which allowed him to do some brisk walking without the fear of sweating too much and ruining his work clothes.


    At work, most of what happened was discussions, and he as the Intern was instructed to note it all down as the overarching plot of an underdog hero taking his wings to save the galaxy, wrapped in a freedom struggle from an oppressive regime, wrapped in a fight between the light and the dark of the same force, wrapped in a science fiction spectacle like none seen before took form.


    Mark was in charge of noting down all important points spoken of within the discussion, but it would naturally be highly disorganised and in random order, which was why Silvia was in charge of noting down characters and who they are meant to be, and Luke was in charge of noting down the plot points of the movie they needed to include in the script.


    Finally, Dan, Bob and Kraig would be involved directly in the discussion only, since they had been working for LucasFilms from their first movie, American Graffiti that seemed to be doing really well at the box office currently and was one of the reasons George Lucas had enough confidence to move onto this passion project of his. Silvia and Luke were hired directly from other production companies and since they had a little bit of experience, they were directly given junior screenwriter positions, unlike Mark.


    However, all three of them could also contribute whenever they had a valid input, and this was made certain by Kraig as he repeated it multiple time over.


    "I would like to ask if there is going to be a backstory to Luke and Darth Vader," Mark raised a point, much to the confusion of all those present.


    "No, not that we have thought of yet. Plus, it will not make much sense to show it in the movie."


    "It would not. Urm, Kraig, could I ask Mr. Lucas for a few seconds of his time. I have an important question only he could answer."


    "And what would that be?"


    "Why are we all being hired permanently?"


    "..." silence filled the room at the strange tangent Mark was going on, but Kraig rapidly put the dots together in his mind and his eyes widened at the thought.


    "Kraig, Dan and Bob would have been enough to slowly make the script of many movies, and if need be, Mr. Lucas could have hired people like us on a temporary basis to work on parts of the script; namely the dialogue and grammar, with Kraig working on the overall story and plot-holes," Mark continued to explain.


    "Unless we were making more than one movie.... a franchise!" Kraig completed his thought process, and Mark did not respond.


    "For that, we would need more fleshed out characters, potential points of conflict, that would need to be hinted at in the first movie, or at least not disproven by the first movie preventing us from using it in the second movie," Kraig added on with a sharp glint in his eyes.


    "But that is insane! No other movie has become a franchise other than James Bond, and that too is an enigma in the movie circle. An impossibility that should not exist!" Dan butted in with a frightened voice. He did not want to lose his job after his company over-invested in projects that had no guarantee of any amount of success, and went bankrupt.


    "Only one way to find out," Kraig muttered as he left the room, leaving a stunned Dan, Bob, Silvia, and Luke inside, with only Mark having enough forethought to follow behind him.


    Only when the meeting room door closed did the four snap to attention and hurried behind Kraig and Mark, but the two were already inside Mr. Lucas'' room, and heard the decisive click of the lock, sealing their fates of having to wait for the answer to their unanswered questions.


    However, as the meeting which should have taken merely seconds began to take longer and longer, and finally the lawyer sitting in the room opposite Mr. Lucas'' got a phone call and rushed inside with a bunch of documents, their worries increased manyfold. However, the four were now resigned to their fates; victims of their own minds'' lethargy, unable to find out their futures and leaving it up to the actions of Kraig and the new intern; Mark.


    ...


    About two hours later, Kraig first left the room with an odd expression, and was quickly followed by an unfazed Mark. Only after another few seconds did the lawyer leave with his slick-oiled hair and tight-fitted suit.


    "So? What''s the answer?" Dan asked Kraig impatiently, and the man did not blame him after realising the clock behind him had swung to 5 past 4.


    "I cannot say much, and neither can Mark. Do not pester him or he will be in a heap of legal troubles, but all you need to know is that we need to think of potential connections." Kraig said after having sorted through his thoughts and finding the right words he could legally use to convey his meaning to his team.


    Immediately, they all understood, but did not react much with words, as they were still outside their meeting room with the other departments still listening in.


    "Alright, back inside, we have a lot of work ahead of us, perhaps only less than the visual effects department," Kraig pulled Mark inside first, preventing him from accidentally letting something important slip to the other members, or worse, the other departments.


    "Mark, I hope you remember what you signed back there. It means you absolutely cannot say anything about anything to anyone. Got it?"


    "Yes." Mark nodded his head rapidly as thought to show fear, but internally he just accomplished another one of his goals. The original Star Wars IV: A New Hope was made with the intention of it being a stand-alone movie, and the relationship between the antagonist and the main characters was only revealed in the subsequent films, which made a few scenes in the first movie rather odd, like the meeting between Darth Vader and Princess Leia.


    As such, he wanted to save the movie from such a fate, and the first step to doing that was to get Kraig on board with the idea of Darth Vader being Luke''s father. And now, it was successful, which meant he could move on with the other small changes he wanted to make in the story. Nothing too obvious, but simple changes here and there which could smoothen out inconsistencies between the original trilogy and the prequels.

 Chapter 6: Father and Son Secret

    Returning home, Mark took a while to freshen up and have some food, since their lunch time had been pushed back due to the discussion, and ended up being replaced by the meeting with Mr. Lucas. After that Mark had not been too hungry, it was the natural reaction of a routined body to a disruption in the routine, it tries its best to bring you back to the routine.


    So Mark did not feel much hunger until he got home, and effectively just had some snacks at work and directly two cup noodles for dinner. Of course, he did not forget to have an apple he had bought on the way back for a more balanced diet.


    ''Constipation is an experience that wastes a lot of time for little to no benefit, and to prevent it, all I have to do is eat enough fibre. I should figure out a good source of protein and vitamins and minerals as well. Perhaps I should take up cooking again, like I had done as the older Mark. But I will need a kitchen for that, which will have to wait until I get promoted to junior scriptwriter and can afford a better place.''


    After getting his food sorted for the night, Mark opened his notebook, opened the scene 2 and began correcting it. An hour later, he rewrote it on a new page, before taking another page and beginning to write down the next scene.


    [Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 3)]


    [Despite Cole¡¯s reluctance to open up, Malcolm tries to build a relationship with him. Malcolm sees Cole as a chance to redeem himself for failing Vincent. He approaches Cole gently, trying to gain his trust through therapy sessions and conversation. Cole is often jittery, and he tells Malcolm that he feels like a ¡°freak.¡± He also hints at being constantly afraid, though he doesn¡¯t reveal why. In the background, Malcolm continues to struggle with his relationship with Anna. They seem to be growing more distant by the day, and she is seen having dinner alone, while Malcolm sits across from her, silently watching. She doesn¡¯t acknowledge his presence, heightening the sense of isolation between them]


    The work with Star Wars, where they were still discussing the plot and now with a potential sequel added to the mix, the discussions will likely last for another week before even a rough draft of the script could be made. On the other hand, Mark recalled the entire movie in his mind, and he had his experience as a moderately established scriptwriter to rapidly make progress in this script. So far, he had already written 3 scenes of a movie involving only around 8 or 10 scenes.


    Mark was not sure exactly how many scenes he would need, since he did not know the script by heart. However, most of the story revolved around the build-up to the climax, and the sudden twist near the end before a sufficiently acceptable resolution wrapped up the entire movie, and Mark was planning to give it just that. He would use the overarching plot he remembered, and cook-up a good story and as good of dialogue as he could come up with.


    Other than the Sixth sense, Mark knew many movies, and knew their scripts a lot better as he had watched them multiple times to experience their emotions again. He did not make scripts for them yet as he knew most of them involved budgets that were really high and he could not possible be involved in the making of those movies.


    He knew, to be the best scriptwriter, he had to have control over how the movie was being made, and the only two ways to do that was to either become the director, or become the producer.


    The current Mark had studied directing, but that was it. He had no experience to speak of, and had only made a half-decent short-film for his project in college. Meanwhile, the old Mark did not have any experience in directing, as he had spent all his time writing scripts, and only later realising that even if he wrote good scripts, without control over the production of the movie, it could turn out to be absolute garbage even if the script was really good.


    There was this scene from X-Men, where Storm was talking to someone she attacks with lightning. The writers had wanted her to say it in an off-handed manner as though she was talking to someone lesser than herself, but the director''s choice for the scene and the actress'' acting made it seem as though she was talking out of anger, which felt really jarring to the audience.


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    ''Ultimately, scriptwriters have very little control over a movie''s direction, with a majority of decisions being made by the director, while the producers can veto the choices of the directors at the cost of potentially angering them into leaving the project. Essentially, its a delicate cooperation between producing companies and directors, so I will have to either become a director or a producer to ensure my scripts turn into the movies I want them to be.''


    ''Producing takes a lot of money, money which I do not have. Directing will take time. Time to practice and perfect the craft to the point I can recreate those movies and emotions, which could take years. Perhaps, I might not even be able to direct movies. It is not a very efficient route to take. On the other hand, if I can make enough money, or have enough works under my belt, I can get someone to loan me money to produce a movie for myself.''


    ''I could also try to make as much money as possible through other means like investing or stock market options. There are a few companies that have very low value for now, but in the future they improve a lot. But that again would take years of long-term investment to make something worthwhile.''


    ''Either way, if this is the only way to make a decent amount of money, then the director route is also a feasible option, since the time taken would be considerably similar. The only difference is that the director route revolves a lot more around luck and having existing connections within the industry which I severely lack...''


    After a while of contemplations, Mark went to bed, deciding to investigate possible short-term investment options that could gain him a decent amount of money within a few months at most. Of course, for that, he would need some starting capital, and that could only happen if and when he successfully sold his movie script. Otherwise, his current salary was just barely enough to provide food for him, and only the cup-noodles kind.


    ...


    The next morning, work began with a twist, as the possibility of a second movie caused the group to rethink some decisions. Strange ideas like having Luke be a fatherless child, without having a biological father and instead being born off the force quite literally. But that idea was quickly thrown out the window since it would most definitely cause problems with the Catholic community since it would basically be a symbolism of Jesus Christ.


    "How about we have Darth Vader be the father of Luke, but do not reveal it... this movie, only leaving plausible clues that are impossible to put together until the truth is revealed?" Mark added, with a moment of thought to make sure he did not use the words next movie.


    The room fell silent for a moment. Kraig was rubbing his chin for a few seconds before nodding. He turned to the board, but stopped just before the market touched it.


    "Luke and Leia are siblings, separated not long after birth, and their father is Darth Vader. However, this relationship will only be known by us in this room. To better keep the secret, we will only inform Mr. Lucas about it, and the other staff and actors will only get to know when it is written in the relevant script," Kraig nodded to himself before motioning for the group to continue the discussion and note-taking session.


    ...


    Upon returning home, Mark had dinner, spoke with Eddie for a while, but the unlucky fellow was still unable to find a job. After the unfruitful conversation, he began editing the previous scene before writing the next scene.


    [Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 4)]


    [One day, Cole finally breaks down and reveals his terrifying secret to Malcolm: "I see dead people." He explains that these ghosts appear around him all the time, walking through his life, and they don¡¯t know they¡¯re dead. Cole is haunted by their presence, which causes his fear and isolation. Malcolm is initially skeptical, assuming that Cole is suffering from delusions or hallucinations as a result of trauma or a psychological disorder. He tries to comfort Cole, but deep down, he¡¯s unsure whether to believe him. Cole insists that these ghosts are real, and they often approach him with unfinished business or unresolved issues from their lives.]


    ''Hmm, once I finish writing all the scenes, I will have to go through the entire thing and change parts of it, then go back and make the relevant changes scene-wise again. So after the first draft is completed, I will need at least another week or two to make a finished script. And I can only begin selling my script once I have it, and I have no clue how long it will take. It might work out on the very first try and be sold on the first hour, or it might never actually get sold. Money and connections, to get any of them, you need them in the first place, a paradox that has been used as the very foundation of modern capitalist society.''


    Mark closed the notebook, packed up all his things and placed them neatly in their respective places in the drawers or on the table, before changing into his night-suit and heading off to bed.

 Chapter 7: Nightmare

    Work was the usual, and Mark preferred it so. A routine, a fixed constant with as little deviation from normal. He went to work, no longer needing to bring everyone coffee since there was now a coffee machine and heated kettle to hold the already brewed coffee, and just took notes. Most of the day was him taking notes, and adding to the discussion here and there, having lunch, repeating more of the same stuff, before finally heading home.


    [Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 5)]


    [Malcolm is disturbed by Cole¡¯s confession, and he starts revisiting his old case files. He finds notes about Vincent Grey and realises that Vincent had reported similar experiences as a child. Malcolm begins to wonder if he missed something important in Vincent¡¯s case. Could Cole actually be seeing ghosts? As Malcolm¡¯s professional skepticism begins to waver, he starts believing Cole¡¯s story. Meanwhile, his marriage to Anna continues to deteriorate. She avoids talking to him, and there¡¯s a sense of coldness between them that Malcolm can¡¯t explain. He feels as though he¡¯s losing her, but he¡¯s still committed to helping Cole.]


    ''A growing sense of tension...'' Mark thought to himself as he finished writing down this scene, ''Finally, the emotions are becoming stronger with just me writing the text. However, I need to be careful and not get lost in this feeling. It is a drug for my mind, like water to a parched land, if I overstimulate myself with these feelings, I will no longer be able to work as normal, like it had happened in my life before.''


    Thus, after writing this scene, he stopped for the night, and instead took the time to call Eddie.


    "Yo! If it isn''t mister flat-face!" Eddie yelled cheerfully through the phone.


    "I am assuming this means you secured yourself a role?"


    "Ya betcha! Matter of fact, I got a supporting role following the main character around. Apparently, I got a really distinct voice. I''m perfect baby... for the role I mean. I even saw the director get into an argument with the producer to get me into the role!"


    "That amaaazing!" Mark said, and failed spectacularly at trying to sound happy. Embarrassment and being happy for others was something he was unable to emulate too well, along with some difficulties acting angry.


    "That... what did I even expect from you."


    "Yeah. Anyway, Eddie, you have to be way of the producer then. He might try to sabotage you, to get you off the movie, or just to vent some anger of having failed to win an argument against the director."


    "Hmm, makes sense. I''ll keep ma eye out!" Eddie exaggerated his ''eye'' but later burst out laughing.


    Mark ended the call on a happy note for once, not hanging up on Eddie since the latter did not talk about the money he had loaned Eddie for once, and decided to adjust some plans for the script before going to bed.


    The next morning, with his spectacles worn and clothes freshly ironed, Mark left for work.


    "Hey Mark was it, I''m Henry. I live next door. Wanna catch the bus together?" The newly introduced Henry, who looked incredibly shady with his full suit and top hat, like someone from the mafia, asked with an ingratiating smile.


    ''It would make more sense to avoid this kind of person... but offending them by outright avoiding them will likely make things worse,'' Mark quickly came to a conclusion as well as a suitable response.


    "Hello there, Henry. I am indeed Mark. Unfortunately, I am on way way to work, and it is only two blocks down, so I won''t be wasting money on the bus. I do wish you good luck on your job, and a good morning to you!" Mark put what he could only describe as his most humble and beaming smile while nodding slightly, and waited for the same response from the man.


    Henry, unable to say anything to that response, just smiled and nodded in return, "Good morning to you too~"


    ...


    Mark made it to work in one piece, and put the encounter to the back of his mind, not letting it interfere with work. That was something he was good at, not letting thoughts and incidents interfere with his activities.


    Returning home, he decided pulled up a new page to write the next scene.


    [Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 6)]


    [Cole¡¯s encounters with the dead become more vivid and terrifying. One night, while Cole is at home, he sees the ghost of a young woman who was abused and murdered by her mother. This spirit vomits and appears in a distressed state, causing Cole great fear. However, following Malcolm¡¯s advice to stop being afraid and try helping these spirits, Cole works up the courage to listen to the ghost. He helps reveal the truth about the girl¡¯s death to her family, delivering a videotape that exposes her mother¡¯s crime. For the first time, Cole feels a sense of control over his ability and begins to understand that the spirits may just want his help. Malcolm sees this as a breakthrough in Cole¡¯s therapy.]


    ''Satisfaction... at progress? Perhaps, this is what gamers used to refer to as "The joy of the Grind" in the MMORPGs?'' Mark came to an association and a smile appeared on his face after finishing the scene. It was not the false pretence he wore in front of the world, but a genuine emotion that sprouted from within, causing his facial muscles to act the way they did without any of his active input and forceful adjustments.


    This time, after completing this scene, he returned to the previous scene to make changes, and then did the same for the current scene, ending up staying awake till 2 past midnight.


    ''I will be a long day tomorrow...'' Mark stretched his body after getting off his desk and laying down to sleep, ''We are finally going to begin writing a rough draft. If all goes well, and we submit it to George by the end of next week, production on Star Wars IV: A New hope can finally begin. Oh, but it will likely be called just plain Star Wars since its not official about the other movies. I''ll go to sleep right after dinner tomorrow to make up for this sleep debt.''


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    And almost as soon as he decided to sleep, he fell asleep. Unburdened by emotions, his mind and body almost worked like a well-oiled machine, allowing him to express feats of incredible control, like going to sleep on demand, or staying awake for 49 hours without sleep and without too much decrease in activity.


    Unfortunately, if he tried to do the same thing while writing scripts, he would experience emotions and his efficiency would have drastically reduced, forcing him to unconsciously fall asleep.


    ...


    "Alright folks, we have a rough outline of the story, but it is missing the necessary dialogue, detailed descriptions of sets, actions taken by the actors in the correct order, what type of shots can be used, as well as transitions. Hmm, Mark, I feel like you can cook up the set descriptions very well," Kraig mused aloud while scratching the stubble that had formed on his normally clean-shaven face.


    "Yup," Mark nodded.


    "Alright then. You handle that. We already have rough descriptions, just make them all more detailed with as many possible props you can think of also written down in an orderly manner. Luke and Silvia, work together to handle the dialogue, it is a lot of work and will nee two people. Dan work on the actions the actors will take while speaking and while not speaking. You will have to work closely with Luke and Silvia on this. Bob work on the shots and how actors would be positioned in each scene. I will... supervise!" Kraig paused for a moment to think of his own role before smiling at his own ingenuity.


    However, nobody faulted him for it. It was clearly observable that he had not slept too well for the past few days from the disheveled hair and dakr bags under his eyes.


    ''Either he is too exited for the project... or he has some issues back home,'' Mark quickly came to a conclusion, but did not pay it any mind and instead focussed on his job. Effectively, he was world-building for the movie and franchise. He was laying the foundations upon which many other movies and shows would be created from, and he got to work almost immediately.


    [Movie: Star Wars (Tattoine)]


    [The desert planet of Tatooine, is a harsh, barren world known for its twin suns, Tatoo I and Tatoo II, which create a relentless heat. The planet''s landscape is dominated by vast sand dunes, rocky outcrops, and scattered canyons, all under a bright, arid sky with intense sunlit haze.]


    [Tatooine¡¯s sky is often tinted in warm hues due to the constant presence of both suns. The planet is sparsely populated by moisture farmers, who harvest water from the atmosphere, and is notorious for its lawlessness. Major settlements include Mos Eisley, a bustling spaceport filled with smugglers, traders, and bounty hunters, and Mos Espa, a smaller town.]


    [Life on Tatooine is difficult, with its inhabitants struggling to survive in the brutal conditions. Native species include the hostile Tusken Raiders (or Sand People) and the scavenging Jawas, who roam the desert in search of scraps to sell. The planet is known as a place far from the core worlds of the galaxy; a quiet, backwater planet with a surprising role in galactic events.]


    [Movie: Star Wars (Alderaan)]


    [Alderaan, is a serene and beautiful planet with a strong commitment to peace and diplomacy. Known as the "Shining Star" of the Core Worlds, Alderaan is covered in lush green landscapes, majestic snow-capped mountains, clear blue lakes, and breathtaking fields of flowers. Its architecture reflects an elegant and advanced society, with domed structures and clean, natural aesthetics that blend harmoniously with the environment. Alderaan is also a cultural and political center in the galaxy, led by the House of Organa, with Princess Leia as a prominent figure. Its inhabitants value art, education, and pacifism, making it one of the galaxy''s most respected societies.]


    [However, Alderaan''s dedication to peace and support of the Rebel Alliance against the oppressive Galactic Empire eventually leads to its tragic destruction. In a demonstration of the Death Star''s power, the Empire annihilates Alderaan in a single, devastating blast, reducing it to an asteroid field. This brutal act of tyranny cements Alderaan''s legacy as a martyr for freedom and resistance against oppression. This happens not too long into the runtime of the movie, and sets up the ''power'' that the villains of the movie possess, and set up the stakes for any future action that could cause the heroes to be responsible for allowing the villains to destroy more planets.]


    Mark continued to write about Dantooine and Yavin Moon, as well as the Death Star itself, where the final battle would take place. After that, he stretched and realised it was time for lunch, so he left for that.


    Returning after lunch, he got to work making the descriptions more detailed and grammatically correct as well as easier to read for other crew members.


    ''This will take me another day to complete at least,'' Mark noted while checking out of work using his card and heading home. This time, he did not call Eddie since the latter was likely already in filming. Since it was a low-budget movie, its production schedule is not as long-winded as a big-budget production like Star Wars. Shooting would not bee too long for Eddie, but it also meant that shooting began only a single day after he was selected for the role.


    Instead, Mark had an early dinner and went to bed to recover his sleep.


    ...


    "Mark! Mark! Wake up you annoying prick!" Mark grimaced at his sister''s voice piercing his sleep.


    "Alright..."


    "No, you need to get up now! Mark, Mom and Dad are dying! Wake up!" her voice once again found its way into his mind, disturbing his sleep as he finally opened his eyes, only to see that same scene he had seen in his past life, but all jumbled together in an unholy abomination of a memory.


    His sister was floating in front of him, hospital tubes and sensors attached to her, but stretching off almost infinitely behind her, while the pale bodies of his parents floated next to her with their eyes and mouths open as though in deep shock.


    Mark was not scared at the sight, not was he happy to see them. Instead, he only felt the same pain he had felt when he found out. The pain originating deep within his chest, one that he did not want to experience again.


    "Why did you leave me Mark? Why did you leave me in a hospital while you went to meet our parents?" she continued as though the tubes going into her mouth and throat did not bother her at all.


    "No... I-"


    "Why were you not with us when it happened? If you were, perhaps she would have been in the hospital as a surgeon rather than a patient. She had her whole life ahead of her," his mother''s body suddenly spoke.


    "Bu-"


    "And what did you do when she was in a coma and we were dead? You killed yourself? Just because you finally felt something from real life and it was not a good emotion? Just how selfish could you possibly be? You left her to her own devices, alone, trapped in an unresponsive body, and without any family member?!" His father''s body yelled out in anger, sheer and unbridled rage.


    "No!" Mark spat out in denial, only to open his eyes and finding himself back in his bed. However, the floating bodies of his parents and sister were not there. Instead, he was covered in sweat from heat to toe and felt exhausted all over.


    ''A nightmare... I''ve never had one of those before. I''ve heard nightmares are the result of your subconscious trying to tell you something. Since I can''t experience remorse or guilt... is it trying to say I should feel those things? Or is it trying to show me something I missed?'' Mark thought to himself while getting out of bed and getting ready for work.

 Chapter 8: Nolan

    At work, Mark did what he was tasked with doing, effectively creating the vibrant worlds where the movie took place.


    "Hey Kraig, I have a few ideas, but I''m not that good of an illustrator. Mind if I go and ask one of them from the visual effects department to come over to help? They aren''t doing much anyways without the script, and the better it is, the easier it will be for them." Mark said with mock enthusiasm.


    "Hold on," Kraig said before leaving the room. About 10 minutes later, he came back with three people, each of who had arts materials and sketchbooks.


    "Here are Sam, Malik and Brody. They will be working with you to sketch out your characters, scenes, and background respectively. Alright, we have no time to waste, let''s get right to it!" Kraig, clapped his hands in finality before leaving the room he had only entered moments before.


    ''Now let''s see if helping an artist make art helps me or not...'' Mark signalled for Malik who was apparently more adept at scenery in their brief introduction, to come and work with him on the planets they had to create.


    Working with someone who knew what they were doing was really easy, and within just a few hours he had sketches of the planets from space, as well as a city-wise sketches of important cities. After lunch, they would be working on a closer; street-level sketch for important scenes so the prop-masters would have an easier time bringing scenes together.


    Mark estimated that his work would likely speed up the production of the movie, from its original 3 years to around 2.5, or perhaps even 2 years since George Lucas would not have to design all the sets himself, and could just delegate it to be produced and ready before shooting began.


    Returning home on time, as usual, Mark noted Eddie would still take a few more days of constant shooting to complete his role in the movie. So, he instead pulled out the notes for the Sixth sense and began writing the next scene.


    [Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 7)]


    [Following the incident with the young girl¡¯s spirit, Cole begins to feel more at peace with his gift. He tells Malcolm that the ghosts don¡¯t want to harm him; they just need his assistance. He starts becoming more confident and is no longer as frightened of the spirits he encounters. Cole¡¯s relationship with his mother improves as well, although he still hides the full extent of his ability from her. There¡¯s a particularly poignant scene where Cole¡¯s mother confronts him about why he¡¯s been acting so strangely. In a touching moment, Cole confides in her that he has been communicating with her deceased mother, revealing details only she would know. Lynn is shocked but moved, finally beginning to believe her son.]


    "The warmth of a parent to their child. I suppose mother and father felt the same for me most of the time... until the day I was not with them, and my sister was put into a coma instead," Mark sighed. He felt the happiness and relief of Cole finally getting through to his mother, but strangely it did not resonate too well with him for once. Perhaps it was the grief he felt for his own parents or the guilt of nat having taken his sister''s place...


    ''Will I no longer feel positive emotions related to parents? Or perhaps this is just a phase... something temporarily caused by the nightmare i had," Mark was lost on thought as he had dinner and went to bed, finally able to get a sound night''s sleep, waking up fresh the next morning.


    However, today was a Sunday, so he did not have work. Instead he was heading for a crash-course in directing. The New Mark''s body indeed had knowledge on directing, but it was only limited to a fresh graduate. Plus, the old Mark had no experience in the art. As such, Mark decided it was best to have a crash course in it from an experienced director to understand how to direct movies. If he was unable to sell his script and earn some starting funds, he would end up having to direct the movie himself.


    On the other hand, if he was able to sell it, knowing how to direct a movie would help him in writing scripts that are easier for directors to understand and use.


    ...


    "Hello Mr. Nolan. Thank you for meeting me on such short notice."


    "Oh no, Mr. Whitehall. It''s quite alright. After all, I am getting paid by the hour for this. But... are you sure you wish to spend the money on someone like me, someone without a formal education?"


    "I''m taking a leap of faith here. Let''s hope my faith is not going to waste... shall we?" Mark opened the door to the studio he had rented for the next three hours.


    Christopher Nolan, who looked exactly like the box-office hit director from the future, but much younger, walked on through the door, followed closely by Mark. Mark spent the little money he had saved up from college, and the little he had saved up from work, to hire the young and aspiring Christopher Nolan who had only made a few short-films that had not caught much traction to teach him directing.


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    At first, he wanted someone established, but realised they would not agree, and at best they would just make him an assistant director and make him run around to complete errands for the director, and those were not so successful directors. For those who were successful, they would not even bother to reply to his request due to how little money he was offering.


    On the other hand, Christopher Nolan, who should have only been a small child by now, was in reality already an adult, just barely, but an adult nonetheless.


    ''An alternate history indeed. people are older than they were in my old life, and perhaps history itself is slightly different to what I remember. I should take the next Sunday to read-up on world history at the public library. I will need this information for many of my future movies. It''s is unfortunate that the new Mark I took over just slept through most classes other than drama and literature. Well, at least physics is the same, which means history differentiated from the original course somewhere after the universe was created... only a few billion years of history to see where things went skewed.''


    The session with Christopher Nolan only cost him $100, about $500 in the future currency. This was mainly because Christopher Nolan was not an actual director yet. He was making short-films, mainly to get his name out and hope it caught someone''s eyes to allow him to direct a full-budget movie.


    "Thank you for the insight," Mark smiled at Christopher.


    "The pleasure is all mine. But if I may, you don''t seem to be too interested in directing yourself."


    "Oh? and why do you say that?"


    "Call it a hunch? It''s the way you were paying attention to what I was saying. Instead of listening to the tricks when it comes to dealing with actors and the crew, you were clearly more interested in portraying different emotions through different kinds of shots and character placement within the shots."


    "... An apt assessment. I am a scriptwriter. Currently I am working on my first script, and I am trying to understand directing to make the cript easier to translate into a movie, and a better movie that is closer to my intended vision," Mark nodded.


    "Oh? What is the movie about?" Christopher asked with interest. For an aspiring director like him, good scripts were difficult to come by, and he had to take any opportunity he could.


    "A supernatural psychological thriller. My main character is a child-psychologist who survives a deadly attack by a past client of his, and is growing distant in his relationship with his wife, and is taking up the case of a child who claims he can see ghosts! Except.. he later finds out that he really can see ghosts!"


    "Oh?" Christopher exclaimed in interest.


    "Yeah, so they spend half the movie building a relationship to the point the child is willing to work with the main character, and after realising the child is not lying they work together to get revenge on a mother who poisoned her own daughter while the father was away!"


    "Hmm..." The blonde-haired aspiring director''s interest wained considerably as the interesting plot suddenly turned dull.


    "But then... at the end of the movie, the main character realises he too is a ghost! The deadly encounter is not one where he survives! And his relationship with his wife grows fainter because he is dead and she is mourning him. He only realises this at the end. Of course, he does not fly into a rage and only feels sorrow and deep regret, but he goes to his wife and speaks to her sleeping body, easing her into letting him go. Ash he finished, she lets go of the ring she had been tightly holding onto, and then he fades away after having no more regrets."


    "..." Christopher was at a loss for words at the sudden turn of events. But then the ending Mark had described was an apt ending for such a twist. A satisfactory conclusion to a turn of perception.


    "However, I still have 2 scenes left to write, plus it will take me another week at least to get the script in order, and wrinkle out the final issues with the plot, grammar, and the way the actors should appear, dress and behave. Naturally, I will be leaving the exact shot details to the director, but I have already included some references for certain shots that I think will make it more interesting."


    "Say, how about you let me make the movie?" Nolan asked tentatively.


    "Sure. As long as you can get a producer. That is the hardest part of movies... getting a producer."


    "That is true..."


    "How about this. Once I finish the script, I''ll register it with the writer''s guild, then hand it over to you by the end of the month. If you can get a producer for the movie within that period of time, it''s yours to direct. After that time, I will also begin searching for producers, who I''m not sure will agree with having you as the director... If I even get producers..." mark lamented with a sigh, but it was all fake. He was actually observing Christopher''s reaction.


    And just as he wanted, he could see excitement and passion within his expression, thought he tried to hide it well. But who was he standing in front of, a master of creating false emotions.


    "You have a deal, Mark," Christopher shook Mark''s hand and gave him his business card.


    "I already have your number."


    "Yes, but keep the card."


    "Sure. Take mine," Mark pulled out his own Junior Writer Intern card and handed it to Christopher, "I''m currently working on a really big project right now, I can''t give too many details, but I can say it''s definitely going to be a blockbuster hit!" Mark exclaimed in the slightly eccentric writer personality he had put on all his previous life to become successful, and he had starter to put on after meeting Christopher Nolan to leave a lasting impression.


    The two shook hands and spoke a few pleasantries before parting ways. Mark loosened the button on his t-shirt, one of only two buttons on it, to let air in. It was nearly summer, and being mid-afternoon did not do him any favours. He closed his eyes for a moment and recalled the raw emotions he felt while watching Interstellar. The dread, the hopelessness, the hope, the love, the determination, the shock... and so much more.


    And he would be working with that director, possibly even working long-term with that director if their first movie worked out.


    ''This should be interesting...'' Mark thought to himself, not realising he felt something. As faint as it may be, he felt interested and excited for the future. an emotion from the real world, other than grief!

 Chapter 9: Script Completion and Producer Hunting

    Returning home in time for a quick and cheap cup-noodle dinner, Mark took out his notebook and began writing the next scene. After his meeting with Nolan, he was now more focussed on completing it, with the goal being to hand it over to him by the end of the month. Though it would likely take a bit more time, but that was acceptable.


    [Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 8)]


    [Malcolm, feeling that he¡¯s succeeded in helping Cole, prepares to move on from their sessions. However, his personal life continues to unravel. Anna has grown more distant, and Malcolm is confused by her behaviour. One evening, he returns home and tries to talk to her while she¡¯s asleep. In her sleep, she mutters, ¡°Why did you leave me?¡± Malcolm is startled and confused by her words. He looks around the room and notices something strange ¡ª his wedding ring is missing from his finger, but he recalls that he never took it off. In a moment of profound clarity, Malcolm pieces everything together: he is dead. The realisation hits him hard. He remembers that Vincent shot him, and he didn¡¯t survive. All this time, he¡¯s been living as a ghost, unaware of his own death. This is why Anna hasn¡¯t been communicating with him and why he¡¯s felt so disconnected. He was just like the ghosts that Cole sees ¡ª lingering in the world of the living without knowing the truth.]


    ''Fear... and... understanding...'' Mark thought to himself as the emotions of Malcolm washed over his mind. But it only stayed for a few minutes before rapidly vanishing like the tide, leaving Mark''s mind a beach, barren of the life-bringing water called emotion.


    Mark was not disappointed, and instead got to work editing the scene, realising it was already evening. He stopped working for a while, and instead picked up his phone and called Eddie. Unfortunately the latter did not pick up.


    ''It is possible they forced him to work overtime on Sunday... or perhaps wooed him into doing to for extra pay. If it is the latter, it is a favourable outcome,'' Mark rapidly concluded and put away the phone. Instead, he took out his notebook again, and began writing the last scene for the movie. It would be the first movie he wrote entirely on his own in this life, and Mark felt his heartbeat increase slightly at the prospects.


    "... is this... excitement? The same excitement I felt while watching mission impossible? I''m feeling it from the real world? But... its really faint. I didn''t even notice it until I felt the abnormal amount of sweat being produced. It isn''t a lot, but it is something. But does that mean that I will slowly be able to feel emotions from my own actions in the real world as well?"


    "Hmm, the feeling of excitement is going away really quickly, only there for a few seconds. More importantly, it is less intense than the feeling of sadness I felt while writing about the kid Cole making up with his parents. Perhaps this is still the after-effect of the nightmare I had, and will gradually go away, no matter how much I want this feeling to stay..."


    Mark closed his eyes, took in a breath, before beginning to write the next scene.


    [Movie: The Sixth Sense (Scene 9)]


    [Devastated by this revelation, Malcolm returns to Cole and thanks him for helping him realise the truth. Cole¡¯s ability to see and communicate with the dead has helped Malcolm come to terms with his own death. In one final act of closure, Malcolm visits Anna one last time. He watches her as she sleeps, and she begins to cry, watching their wedding video. Malcolm speaks to her, telling her that she was never second in his life and that he loves her deeply. As he says goodbye, Anna¡¯s grip on the past loosens, and Malcolm¡¯s spirit finds peace. With his unfinished business resolved, he fades away, moving on from the world of the living.]


    Finally finishing the work by dinner, Mark ate his food and decided to call Eddie once more for good measure. Unfortunately, nobody picked up the call. As such, he went to bed early around 8pm, and got ready for work the next day.


    ...


    By the end of the day at work, Mark had finished his part of the job by describing all planets and sets in moderate detail, and was only held behind by the time taken to make the various coloured sketches he wanted to be made. Still, he had to sit next to Malik and make sure his work was as he had envisioned it or it to be considered his work. Plus, with him constantly giving directions on which parts should be painted with colours, Malik''s work also progressed a lot faster than if he was making those decisions himself.


    Returning home, Mark continued to work on The Sixth Sense script, before having dinner and calling Eddie. This time, it finally connected.


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    "Wassup ma man! Guess who just finished shooting!" Eddie exclaimed as though he was high or drunk... or both.


    "You finished filming in less than a week?"


    "Ye, despite following the main character everywhere, my character only got 5 lines in the whole a*s movie, and most of the its focus is on the main dude. In fact, I barely appear with the guy, its mostly the camera spinning around to me to be the comedic relief in an already comedic movie. I did quite a few scenes where the dude was suppose to be in the same scene as me, but he ain''t even there!, and its just the camera spinning from pointing in a random a*s direction to me! They gonna edit me into the scene with the due"


    "Yeah... there is still some bias against coloured people," Mark nodded in agreement.


    "You betcha a*s there is! The main actor just stayed away from me, and even the cameraman and other crew did the same. Only the director did not mind me."


    "I did warn you..."


    "That... you did..." Eddie agreed in a tired voice.


    "But... you finally acting in a movie! With this, getting a second role will be a lot easier. Its only a matter of time before you become a superstar."


    "Haha! Once I do, I''ll buy a house for ma and pa. What bout you, Mark, what''ll ya do with the money from becoming a successful writer?"


    "Make my own movies~" Mark said, a fading hint of accomplishment flitting past his mind.


    "Seriously?"


    "Yeah. Then I''ll hire you as the main character for some of my movies! Haha!"


    "Sure, sure. When you have enough money to make a movie... what me stop you from doing just that. B*tch, just invest the money and life comfortably."


    "Nah, I''m good!"


    The two burst into laughter, and chatted for a while before ending the call on a high note. Mark stretched for a bit, then realised it was still early and he was no longer in sleep debt, so decided to do do some more editing on script.


    ...


    "So, this is the script?" Christopher Nolan asked as he finished reading Mark''s script and put it down, a satisfied grin on his face.


    "Yes. It took two days longer than my estimated time, but I just finished it yesterday and contacted you for this meeting. What do you think? Will it make a good movie?" Mark asked with a pretence of nervousness.


    "I''m not sure. I really like the twist, and it feels like a good hook, but that only depends on whether I can get enough budget for the movie. Without enough money to hire sufficient talent for the crew and acting, as well as the costume design and scenes, a good script will definitely turn into a bad movie."


    "So we need money... That''s why I have you!" Mark exclaimed in mock satisfaction.


    "..."


    "I''m kidding. But you have 2 months. I will also try to find a way to earn some money for the movie... but given the fact that we will need a budget at least in the millions of dollars, I doubt my efforts will be worth much. It will be mainly resting on you to find a sponsor," Mark deduced his situation rather aptly, causing Christopher Nolan to nod while rubbing his clean-shaven chin.


    "Alright, i will try my best. I know a few people. I have worked with quite a few people when learning how to be a director. Let''s see what I can do," Nolan looked at Mark and asked, "This is my copy?"


    "Yep. I have already registered it with the Writer''s Guild. The American Screenwriter''s Association''s entrance fee is too high for me to afford, so the Guild is my only safety. But it is already accepted and registered, so go crazy with it."


    "Good."


    "In fact, here, I''ve got it copied 5 times for you at my expense. I just hope if you do get the budget, I get a good payment as the scriptwriter."


    "Thank you. And of course, you''ve not just written the script, but also made the scenes, and camera shots, as well as character designs. A lot of pre-production efforts will becomes really short. Now let''s hope I can get someone to sponsor the film."


    "To a successful producer hunting," Mark raised his orange juice in tetra-pack, and Nolan raised his ice-cold Heineken. The two containers were not glass, so there was no sound, but they touched containers nonetheless before taking a sip.


    Mark and Nolan continued to chat for a while at the park bench while enjoying their drinks and the late evening sky, before parting ways, with one having completed his end of the bargain, while the other was now in charge of completing the other end of the bargain.


    Mark returned home at night and just had dinner before going to bed. Just before sleeping, a thought crossed his mind, ''I need to improve my diet or it will have consequences on my future. Now that I have finished one script, I can spend some time on myself after and before work. I should take some classes to learn how to cook food. It''s been a month since I took over this Mark''s body, but the only emotion-altering real-life event has not been repeated. It''s unfortunate that the faint feelings I would get from real-life events no longer happen, which means it was most likely a side effect of the nightmare, and likely wont be returning...''


    Mark closed his eyes on the negative thought process and conclusion, and went to sleep.

 Chapter 10: Trilogies and Nothingness

    Mark stretched and got out of bed, heading straight to work after putting on his spectacles and wearing his work clothes. Over the course of the past month, his work clothes had shifted from the freshly ironed shirt and trousers to a more casual collared T-shirt with dark jeans, suiting the company culture George Lucas was trying to create within the company; one of family.


    George Lucas gave everyone sufficient salaries to keep them happy, but also had a different mode of working compared to others in the industry. He allowed anyone to wear whatever they wanted s long as they weren''t shorts or over-the-top fancy stuff. He also did not force anyone to work overtime, and instead adopted a system of working your all in the given hours, and then partying after work, which was something well-liked by almost all the staff. Nobody wanted to work extra, and it was one of the main reasons other company workers, not just in the film industry, but otherwise as well, did not work as diligently as those at Lucas Films.


    In just a single month, the idea and background from George Lucas had been converted, through the efforts of the scriptwriting team, into a final script. This was something worth celebrating, and after handing the script to Mr. Lucas, Kraig took everyone for drinks on him, despite it being in the middle of the day, and the accommodating George gave them the day off.


    ...


    "Why aren''t you drinking?" Silvia asked as she took a sip of her beer. It was too early for her to have something too strong.


    "I don''t handle drinks too well," Mark gave an ''it is what it is'' shrug while swirling the grape-juice in his glass. Alcohol was something that... for a lack of better words... made him lose control of his body almost entirely. He would turn into a machine incapable of acting, while his motor functions would misfire randomly.


    The first time he had tried alcohol, along in a bar, after realising nobody would buy his script for a good price, Mark''s face lost the smile he had kept on it, and his eye-lids drooped slightly. Then... he collapsed to the ground as his legs and hands twitched as though he was turning into a zombie.


    ''When I came to, I was in a hospital bed, and the doctors told me I was brought there almost 4 hours ago due to suspicion of some sort of medical emergency or allergy, and yet, at the hospital, they conducted multiple tests only to find nothing wrong with me other than some alcohol in my system, barely a trace. Even all the allergy tests they conducted ended up as false. I was, really healthy, other than the lack of some vitamins due to my eating habits. But since then, I have never had alcohol, and if anyone presses me, its best to just say I have an allergy to it.'' Mark recalled his past life and took another sip of the juice.


    "Woo, come on, its too early to party, but we sure as hell can have food!" Kraig yelled as he pulled Silvia and Mark off their bar chairs and to the sofas where all the scriptwriters were gathered, enjoying freshly cooked food.


    "He does know that having food at a bar is almost as expensive as the drinks themselves right?" Mark questioned.


    "Of course. He is the heaviest drinker of us all... then again, does Kraig even remember any of the times he had been to a bar?" Silvia muttered much to the amusement of Dan, Bob, and Luke.


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    The group enjoyed for a while, then headed home after a few hours since none of them wanted a hangover, and they all had to come to work the next day. Well, everyone other than Kraig who ended up returning an hour later and staying for 3 more hours before returning home, completely drunk, and barely able to walk.


    ...


    The next morning however, Mark greeted a ghost once again, but it was not a nightmare, and rather Kraig, whose face was incredibly pale, with dark-circles under his eyes and a sullen expression, with a hint of pain from an obvious headache appearing now and then as he massaged his forehead.


    ''A hangover... but he did not drink too much. Perhaps he drank some more at home... or went back out to another bar instead of going home...''


    "Good. Everyone is here- Argh..." Kraig massages his forehead while squeezing his eyes once more, but still pulled through on his announcement, "Since we have completed the script for Star Wars IV: A New Hope, Mr. Lucas has told us to not waste the salary he is giving us, and that we should immediately... Sign these documents before proceeding."


    The same lawyer who had come into the room with Kraig, Mark, and Mr. Lucas came into the scriptwriting room with a few documents, mostly non-disclosure agreements even to others within the same company. All the scriptwriters had no issues signing them after giving it a thorough read, but that reading session made them waste half the day.


    After a quick lunch, Kraig met everyone in the room once again.


    "Star Wars V: No name yet will now begin discussions. This time, we have a lot of time to perfect the script, so lets get to it!" Kraig said, before closing his eyes, turning around, and taking a sip from the hot ginger-lemon water he had in the thermos behind him.


    Mark, Silvia, Luke, Dan and Bob got to work on the discussions almost immediately, randomly throwing out ideas. Still, it was better than the script they had just written, since they had a baseline for the story, and already established relationships and organisations. they would not have to spend nearly as much time introducing the world, and more time on actual events and happenings. this would leave more time for actions scenes which could potentially make it more exciting of a movie than the first.


    "Star Wars IV: A New Hope... would mean Mr. Lucas has plans for a prequel trilogy at least. Which also means that the current movie is only the second of a trilogy..." Mark randomly muttered, causing the discussion in the room to fall silent once more, before they decided to ignore the ambitions of their boss, and focus on the job they were being paid for.


    ...


    That night, as Mark returned to his room, with a fresh notebook in hand. The previous notebook that was used for the Sixth Sense was names as such and put in a paper file together with the script, and put it on the bookshelf that had been empty until now. The first script, of many, was complete. His first script as the new Mark, despite having basically copied the original story, it was still something he had made on his own. He did not remember all the scenes, and instead only the general plot, and the emotions he felt with each scene. Based off those, he created the script with his own skills, and that was... just that.


    ''Unfortunately, I was expecting to feel even a slight bit of... satisfaction, but completing this only leaves me with... nothingness. The same nothingness that has existed since the beginning in both my old life and my new one,'' Mark''s thoughts wandered, while he wrote down the name of the new script he was going to write.


    It''s theme was completely different to the previous script, to prevent others from not taking any scripts other than thriller scripts seriously.

 Chapter 11: Rocky and Pre-Production

    [Movie: Rocky (Scene 1)]


    [The film opens in a dim, gritty Philadelphia boxing club where Rocky Balboa is fighting Spider Rico, another down-and-out boxer. Rocky fights aggressively, but it¡¯s clear this isn¡¯t a glamorous setting¡ªhe¡¯s just another struggling fighter with a few fans and no real prospects. Rocky: ¡°He hit my face! I don''t like nobody hitting my face.¡± This line is spoken to the referee after Rocky angrily retaliates when Spider lands a cheap shot. After winning the fight, he collects his meagre earnings, which emphasise his tough financial situation.]


    Mark had decide to go for this movie for two reasons. It''s production cost was just under $1 million, which meant it was considerably cheaper to make than other movies, and its script was really good. Nolan was already having a hard time finding someone to spend on his movie, which already had a complete script and a director with some amount of experience... trying to get someone to put in all the money for Rocky would likely take years, and Mark found it a waste of time for a single script. Plus, the main actor in the movie, Sylvester Stallone, who was also the screenwriter, had not made the movie or a name for himself yet.


    Mark had already checked with the Guild, and there was no such script registered with them yet. Which meant he could do it. Plus, he had also confirmed that Sylvester was not even registered as a writer in the guild, and only in the actors guild, having worked as a nameless person in quite a few movies, but nothing substantial. Still, unlike Nolan who was somehow born multiple years in the past, Stallone was born at just the right time, and looked exactly as what Mark expected him to. He could just cast Stallone as the actor and have an almost guarantee for success.


    Getting someone to green-light this movie with an unknown writer and an unknown actor would be even more difficult despite its small budget. As such, Mark would end up having to invest whatever little he would gain from The Sixth Sense''s script into making this movie. Still, he would need to source more money from somewhere, as he was never going to get $1 million for just the script of the movie.


    Mark would think about it later as he flipped to a new page, energised at the start of a new story, and continued writing.


    [Movie: Rocky (Scene 2)]


    [After the fight, Rocky is shown working as a debt collector for Gazzo, a local loan shark. He approaches a man who owes Gazzo money, but instead of using force, he lets the man off lightly, showing a reluctance to hurt others. Gazzo criticises him for this, urging him to be more ruthless before driving off.]


    Mark interlocked his fingers after dropping the pencil and stretched outwards creating multiple popping sounds from his finger-joints and knuckles before heading off to bed, editing of the chapter could be done later.


    ...


    The next morning, on the way to work, Mark noticed a car driver at an intersection in the middle lane of three, and a cyclist in a heated argument, with the cyclist behind the one throwing out insults at his broken bike and hurt hand.


    However, Mark noticed that the car beside the one one in the accident, closer to the right sidewalk, also had braking skid-marks, and it had stopped just in time to allow the biker to pass in front of it, but ended up crashing into the one to its left, which also had skid-marks for braking, buts it was a larger car and took longer to break, ending up coming into the path of the cyclist that was riding on the crosswalk.


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    ''The mystery of the human ego... if they did not get so infuriated and start blaming the other person, both would realise that not only did the car thy cyclist avoided had a camera recording him, but there is even a camera at the signal which most definitely captured the entire thing. It was clearly the cyclist''s fault, but that does not matter. even if it was the car''s fault, screaming at each other instead of rushing to a hospital to fix the clearly broken hand, or calling the authorities is definitely not helping either party. Then again, without it... without emotions... everyone would be just like me... a robot thinking and acting solely on logical reasoning and nothing else.''


    Mark paused for a moment at the scene, before turning and leaving, heading straight to work.


    ...


    While Kraig and the screenwriter''s department were busy creating the script for the second instalment of Star Wars, mr. Lucas had successfully confirmed the funding was coming from 21st Century Fox, after the moderate success of his pervious movie. With that, he finally began pre-production for ''Star Wars IV: A New Hope''.


    Sat in his office, he called his trusted friend and partner who owned 50% of the newly built LucasFilms.


    "Hello?"


    "It''s me, George. Cowl, I need you to get in touch with CAA and United Artists. Whichever has the better offer for the roles, we give it to them. Remember, we only have $200,000 for all the actor''s in total. The rest of the money will go to the set, costume, and mainly the special effects. Also, all of this will take time-"


    "How long?"


    "I''m not sure how long, but a year at the very least, perhaps more or less."


    "That is a really long time. You already have a lot of permanent employees at your company, the expenses for that will be massive."


    "Yes, I know, but I need the time, without it, the movie will look half-baked at best."


    "Alright. I''ll contact CAA and UA for actors-"


    "Thanks"


    "But I will only tell them the project will not begin shooting until next year, in about 7 months. The rest is up to you, I can''t keep them satisfied with just the existence of a project with potential. You know how they get."


    "Yeah... I guess I will need to speed things up a bit."


    "Good. Now, I really need to get going or I will miss the flight to New York."


    "Alright, Good luck."


    "Same to you, and lord known you''re going to need it."


    "Heh"


    The two childhood friends who opened the company together cut the call and went their separate ways. It was an odd way of working. Usually, the director would simply employ an agent who would handle everything for them, but George did not trust such agents whose loyalties did not lie with him, and considering he had already made a plan with his best friend since forever, to create movies together, he handed the business end of his company to Brody Cowl.


    It was an odd set-up, but one that had worked perfectly for their first movie, and hopefully would for the current and future movies as well.


    George cut the call, and stretched while looking outside the large windows of his office, at the not-so-pleasant sight of the developing city-scape.


    ''Things seem to be going well,'' he smiled and leaned back in his chair, before springing up and heading out of his office, ''Time to begin work.''