10:44 p.m.
"I didn't know you gave house tours," Owen remarked, his tone somewhere between amused and curious, as Jenna guided him through the interior. "We could've brought the others."
Jenna smiled at that. "I'm not an expert," she replied. "In fact, I don't even know the house. It's my first time here…" She paused for a second, picked up a glass of bubbling liquid from a nearby table, and handed it to him. "I just wanted to get you out of there for a moment."
Owen took the glass. "Wow, and here I thought you wanted to introduce me to all your friends, and you're already pulling me away as soon as I arrive," he said, teasing but genuinely intrigued. "What's going on?"
Then he added, "Besides, you left Matt and the others with your group. I hope they're not feeling awkward."
It was a real possibility. The links between the two groups were, essentially, Owen and Jenna. If both of them stepped away at the same time, there was a risk the connection would fade, that each group would retreat into itself.
"They'll be fine," Jenna said, shaking her head. "Matt's great at socializing. They won't be left hanging."
She didn't know Matt deeply, but she'd had a few prior encounters with him through Owen, enough to notice his natural ease at reading the room, starting conversations, and moving between groups effortlessly.
Owen nodded. "You're right," he admitted. "Matt adapts fast."
They walked a few more steps in silence before Owen added, with genuine curiosity, "But then why did you want to pull me away? What's up?"
Jenna glanced at him sideways, weighing her answer for a second. "It's about Mikey," she said at last.
Owen blinked. "Your friend?"
"Yes, she made that flirty comment because she doesn't know you have a girlfriend," Jenna replied, making a small gesture with her glass.
Owen understood instantly. "Oh, I see. So she does have some boundaries."
"Of course," Jenna said without hesitation. "She's not like Madison."
She was referring to the Madison who had been part of the shoot for The Spectacular Now and who, months earlier, had tried to get close to Owen in a much more direct way, enough to cross a line and force him to ask Jenna for help getting out of the situation without rejecting her too abruptly.
"That's admirable of you, I have to say," Owen said, looking at Jenna with more respect.
With this, Jenna had prevented Owen from forming a negative opinion of Mikey, who hadn't done anything wrong, she simply didn't know he was in a relationship.
"Thanks…" Jenna murmured to herself, a little surprised by the compliment, before taking a sip of her drink.
Then Owen added with a half-smile, "Although… does she really not know I'm in a relationship? I thought I was becoming well-known enough for that kind of gossip to spread on its own."
There was no vanity in the comment. It was more a joke at his own expense, a light irony, as if he were amused by the idea of mattering enough for his love life to be a topic of conversation.
Jenna let out a short laugh. "No. That's not it. Mikey doesn't use social media. She's heard of you, but through TV and interviews, where I don't think it ever comes up that you have a girlfriend."
Owen looked at her, surprised. "She really doesn't have social media?"
"Really," Jenna nodded. "She says it's not for her, that it doesn't feel authentic."
Jenna paused before continuing. "And I don't go around sharing your personal life either. To Mikey and the others, I just talked about you as a friend, mentioned a few projects, nothing more. I never brought up that you have a girlfriend."
Then Jenna's tone shifted slightly. More serious. Almost like a teacher giving a lesson. "When you get comments like that, you should be clearer. Otherwise, the same thing that happened with Madison could happen again."
She didn't say it harshly, just as advice, noticing a pattern forming.
During the shoot of The Spectacular Now, Owen had never rejected Madison outright. Not out of interest, but because he didn't want to be cold or abrupt with a coworker.
For him, maintaining a good atmosphere on set and professional chemistry was a priority; he avoided conflict, minded his manners, and put the work first, even when that attitude could lead to uncomfortable situations, like the night Madison ended up going to his room.
But now the context was different. There was no shoot involved, no professional relationship to protect.
And still, when Mikey made that flirty comment, Owen had responded with an ambiguous smile. He didn't seem uncomfortable, nor did he set a clear boundary right away. From the outside, it wasn't the reaction one would expect from someone in a relationship when faced with a stranger's insinuation.
Jenna knew it: people could be more or less unfaithful by nature, but Owen wasn't like that. What had happened with Madison had erased any doubt about it, and had only reinforced her respect for him.
"You're right," Owen conceded, "but this time I wasn't clear or distant about Mikey's comment because something is different."
"What is it?" Jenna asked, noticing the conversation was heading in a direction she hadn't expected.
"My relationship with Sophie is on a break," Owen replied.
Jenna froze, not blinking for a couple of seconds. "What? A break?"
Owen nodded and explained the situation, in the same brief, summarized way he had told Matt and the others. He trusted her. He didn't go into unnecessary details, it wasn't the night to dissect relationship problems, and certainly not on New Year's.
'So that's why she didn't come,' Jenna thought. It made sense. New Year's was usually the most logical date to spend with your girlfriend and friends. Sophie's absence had already struck her as odd, now everything clicked.
"So that whole lecture I gave you was for nothing?" Jenna said, with a strange smile.
"I'm sorry, but yes," Owen replied.
Owen was already clear that if a stranger, someone he didn't work with or share a set with, tried to flirt with him while he was in a stable relationship, he would be distant from the start. He had no problem being cold in that context.
With Madison, the situation had been different. And now, with Mikey, it was the same.
Jenna hesitated for a moment. She wasn't sure she should go there, but curiosity won out. "So, if with Mikey you could move forward, if there's mutual interest, would you try?"
Owen thought for a few seconds before answering. "I don't know," he admitted. "But… maybe I would."
That was, honestly, the answer he had at that moment. The break had left him unsettled. It wasn't a situation he felt comfortable or secure in, much less a clear one. And, even though he didn't like to dwell on it, what Gaten and Tyler had said kept echoing in his head: he wasn't one hundred percent convinced of Sophie's fidelity.
Owen had always been practical and fairly logical. The fact that Sophie had proposed a break so suddenly, right at that time, with New Year's in the middle, when they already had plans to spend it together, didn't sit well with him at all.
'Maybe I would?' Jenna thought, a bitter feeling settling in her chest.
Before she could fully process it, Jenna spoke. "But it's a break. You didn't break up."
"And?" Owen asked, looking at her calmly.
"That if you do it, it would be cheating," Jenna replied bluntly. "And if later you get back together to talk things through, it would end in the worst possible way if she finds out. And she will find out."
"Why would she find out?" Owen said with a half-smile. "Would you tell her? I thought you were my friend."
"No, I wouldn't," Jenna replied, not playing along with the joke. "You would. You'd tell her. I know you wouldn't hide something like that, even if it hurt you."
The certainty in her voice made him fall silent for a few seconds. "I didn't realize you thought so highly of me," he said at last.
"It's not just thinking well of you," Jenna replied. "It's also what I've seen. Your actions. How you handled the situation with Madison. Among other things."
"That's true," Owen admitted. "If something happened, I'd tell Sophie. I wouldn't hide it."
He paused and added, "And honestly, if I did, the consequences wouldn't bother me that much."
Jenna, who was about to respond, fell silent. She closed her mouth without saying anything. That alone made it clear to her that Owen no longer fully trusted the relationship, and that in his mind, the idea of a definitive breakup was already present.
That was why an act of infidelity wouldn't change the overall picture much. If, to him, things no longer had a real fix, and on top of that they were on a break where, technically, one could cling to a technicality, the moral boundary became blurred. Not because he didn't understand the consequences, but because he felt that, whatever happened, the end was already closer than far away.
"I see…" Jenna said, in a softer tone than she had expected. "I'm sorry."
"Why?" Owen asked.
"You know, for ending a relationship that lasted…" Jenna began, but stopped halfway through the sentence when she realized she didn't know the exact length.
"Eight months, maybe nine, roughly," Owen cut in.
In his mind, April or May was the most reasonable starting point. Things had simply moved very fast.
"That," Jenna nodded. "Ending a relationship that, even if it doesn't sound like much, was eight months of your life. And on top of that, everything you shared professionally."
She was referring to Paperman, Paranormal Activity, Lights Out. Important, successful projects. Not just a personal relationship, but a strong creative bond as well.
"Yeah," Owen nodded. "It's not easy. But, well, you adapt."
He had gone through all of that analysis in just a few hours. The break Sophie had proposed had happened that very day, less than eight hours earlier, far too little time to process it calmly or think about it with a clear head.
Even so, there was something he was certain about: that, at the first real difficulty in the relationship, after eight months, the response being a break felt excessive to him. And that it had happened right on New Year's, suddenly, didn't sit well with him at all. He didn't see it as a good sign for something meant to last.
Because while it was true that Sophie had complained about the amount of time Owen devoted to work, they had never had outright fights or serious conflicts. There were no big arguments, no scenes.
For instance, that time Sophie had come over to Owen's apartment, he had greeted her and then gone back to work because he was in the middle of his day. When he finished, Sophie told him she wouldn't have dinner with him. There had been a slight bit of friction and a complaint on her part that he hadn't paid attention to her, but nothing extreme enough to justify a break. In fact, that day they had said goodbye affectionately, joking with each other.
That was why the break felt so disorienting. It was a unilateral solution, proposed with no real room for dialogue. Owen hadn't even had the chance to object or suggest an alternative.
And from his perspective, even though he admitted he was working a lot and going through a period of high demands, he would firmly argue that he hadn't disappeared or completely neglected his personal relationships, not Sophie, not his friends, not his family. Maybe he could give them less time than in earlier stages, but it wasn't true that he was offering nothing but scraps.
"Well, let's celebrate New Year's," Jenna said, trying to put a more positive spin on what the conversation had left behind. "And you've got a free pass to flirt with Mikey," she added, half-joking.
Owen smiled, setting those thoughts aside for later. "Now you sound like a friend," he replied.
They both laughed softly and continued walking through the house, drinks in hand, until they rejoined the others. By then, the groups had almost completely mixed. Conversations flowed, there were cross-comments, laughter, and a comfortable atmosphere.
Matt, along with Jack Quaid, had been key to that transition.
Jack, beyond Scream 5, was best known for The Boys, where he played Hughie Campbell, the role that had made him especially popular.
Owen and Jenna joined the conversations naturally.
And Owen got to know her friends better. Dylan Minnette, known mainly for 13 Reasons Why, left a good impression on him. He was far more talkative than Owen had expected, a long way from the quieter image his appearance suggested.
Melissa Barrera, on the other hand, spoke loudly, and her laughter carried from across the room, almost deafening, but there was something genuine about her, nothing put on.
As for Mikey, Owen noticed the interest. Slightly longer looks than usual, subtly flirty comments, and one or two that left very little room for doubt.
Even so, he decided to keep his distance. He wasn't cold or abrupt, but he responded in a way that was clear to anyone who knew how to read the situation: cordial, polite, but not moving forward.
Mikey understood quickly. Once she realized there was nothing mutual, she stopped pushing.
Owen chose to close out New Year's like that: at a party, surrounded by people, without complicating things any further.
Jenna noticed. She didn't say anything. She just felt something different. It wasn't surprise, nor superficial admiration, but a deeper kind of respect.
From Jenna's friends, Owen began getting questions about his trajectory and his projects. It wasn't unusual, his career as an actor, screenwriter, and producer came across as something uncommon, especially for someone his age. The questions went back and forth, some joking, others with genuine interest, even the occasional straightforward curiosity about his next film.
Owen answered all of them naturally, but without giving away anything important.
He knew Jenna's friends were actors and actresses themselves, eager to make a good impression and build future connections with someone like him, already perceived as a creator.
And he couldn't deny that, as he talked and listened, his mind was working in the background. Almost automatically, he began to imagine some of them in roles for his next project.
Mikey, for instance, fit surprisingly well as Skylar: the age, look, and energy. It was easy for him to picture her in that role.
For Will's best friend, Chuckie, he saw Jack more than Dylan; Jack conveyed something closer to that rough, blue-collar Boston profile than Dylan did.
None of it was serious yet. Just images forming in Owen's head as they talked. He wouldn't cast anyone based on that alone. Still, it could lead to something later, if he had a good impression of them, he wouldn't rule out taking a closer look at their careers, their acting range, and so on.
At a later point in the night, Owen stepped away from the group to get more drinks. He went alone. He raised his wrist and checked the time on his watch: 11:23 p.m.
Not long until the toast.
More people had arrived, and the atmosphere had shifted. The music was a bit louder, conversations overlapped, and the house felt full, though not yet claustrophobic like a nightclub.
He moved through the crowd until he spotted the bar, with several bottles laid out and glasses lined up. He was only a few feet away when he stopped short.
His gaze locked onto a particular girl at the bar: blonde hair, short, with soft waves framing her face. Her skin was quite pale, her features delicate, and she was smiling as she talked with two other girls.
Emma Myers.
The name surfaced in Owen's mind, along with the same sensation he'd felt when he read it in the Netflix email Larry had sent him days earlier.
A tingle ran up the back of his neck, like a brief electric shock. He frowned and lifted a hand to his neck, scratching lightly, as if he could ward off that absurd reaction.
'Again?' Owen thought, genuinely confused.
This time it wasn't a name on a page or a photo on a screen. She was there, in person. And the feeling was even harder to ignore.
To make it worse, at that exact moment Emma turned her head. Her eyes met Owen's, and the two friends she was talking to followed the movement almost immediately. Three gazes settled on him.
Owen held Emma's gaze for just a second longer than necessary. There was no hidden intention in it, he did it simply because of that feeling.
Emma was the first to look away, a slight discomfort crossing her face. Her friends said something that sparked laughter, and Emma reacted by bringing a hand to her mouth, laughing softly, shyly.
Owen couldn't hear what they were saying or what they were laughing about. He blinked, snapped back to himself, and without thinking too much, turned around. He walked away without reaching the bar, without the drinks, disappearing back into the crowd.
'What the hell is that? Déjà vu? Fate?' he thought, still unsettled, as he returned to his friends.
"Hey, man, where are the drinks?" Erik asked, smiling, already pretty tipsy and swaying slightly.
"Didn't find them. Go get them yourself and use your legs," Owen replied.
"Hey, hey, easy!" Erik said, raising his hands and laughing for no apparent reason.
Owen looked at him and sighed.
"I have valuable information for you guys," he said then, in a mysterious tone, an idea forming in his mind.
"What!?" Tyler asked instantly, sensing juicy news.
Gaten stepped closer too, curious.
"At the bar in the north section I saw… Emma Myers," Owen said.
The reactions were immediate.
"She came?" Tyler said, trying to sound restrained, though his excitement was obvious.
"Yes," Owen nodded. "And she's with two friends. Three of them. Just like you guys. You know what to do," he added, pointing at them.
"New mission!" Tyler exclaimed, clearly emboldened by the alcohol.
"Let's go!" Erik added.
Between the two of them, they started pushing Gaten forward. He had no choice but to go along, protesting between laughs.
Eventually, it was time for the toast. Tyler, Erik, and Gaten came back to the group with moderate success from their first approach to Emma's group and her two friends. They confirmed that, indeed, they were her friends, though not actresses.
For Gaten, it had been the most complicated. Tyler and Erik, sensing that Emma was out of their league, quickly focused on the other two girls, leaving him with her. Luckily, he managed to hold a decent conversation: both were actors, so between anecdotes from sets, castings, and different experiences, the exchange flowed better than expected. Even so, they decided to head back to their group for the toast.
"Yo, it's almost midnight!"
"Countdown soon!"
Voices began rising above the music. The DJ lowered the volume, and Owen, who had been talking with Jenna and Matt, set the conversation aside.
"Look at that!"
Owen heard a girl say it, turned his head, and saw her pointing toward the ceiling. Suddenly, from a hidden compartment, a massive flat-screen TV descended from above, over seventy inches. Cheers and applause erupted instantly.
Erik made an exaggerated mind-blown gesture while looking at Tyler, who muttered between laughs that this was already on another level.
The TV turned on, and a countdown timer appeared, leaving no room for error. Owen held his glass of champagne and looked at the screen. When it hit ten, the entire house erupted in unison:
"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"
"Happy New Year!"
"New year, baby!"
"We made it!"
The house filled with enthusiastic shouts, applause, hugs, and the clinking of glasses. Some were raised carefully; others, with far less precision, sent champagne splashing into the air.
"Happy New Year, guys, I love you!" Matt exclaimed, pulling Owen, Tyler, Erik, and Gaten into one clumsy group hug.
"I love you too, but don't spill champagne on my shirt!" Tyler protested, laughing.
Matt pulled away and spotted Jenna Ortega standing next to Owen, watching them with an amused smile.
"And I love you too, Jenna Ortega! Happy New Year!" Matt shouted.
"Happy New Year, Matt," she replied, raising her glass toward him.
"He's already in phase two," Owen murmured under his breath, leaning closer to Jenna as Matt wandered off to toast with strangers and hand out more hugs.
"Phase two?" Jenna asked, arching an eyebrow. "Does he have phases of drunkenness?"
"Yes," Owen nodded, taking a small sip from his glass. "His alcohol tolerance is insanely high. And as he gets drunk, the changes are so obvious that we've ended up classifying them. This is just the beginning."
Jenna smiled, amused, just as the atmosphere fully shifted. Outside, distant fireworks, honking horns, and shouts echoed from different parts of the city. Inside the house, party lights spun, the DJ turned up the music, and someone tossed confetti into the air.
The celebration, past midnight, had reached its real peak.
Most people started drifting toward the center, where a dance floor was forming. Jack, Mikey, Melissa, Erik, Tyler, one by one they joined in, laughing, jumping, and clinking half-empty glasses.
Owen and Jenna, on the other hand, stayed by a wall, each holding a nearly finished glass of champagne. They were, without a doubt, among the most sober people there. They'd barely drunk compared to everyone else.
Jenna watched the scene with a calm smile when Melissa turned around from the dance floor, spotted her leaning against the wall with Owen, and shouted over the music, waving her arms, "Come on, Jenna! Dance!"
Jenna lifted her glass toward Melissa, as if to say I'm coming, don't yell, then glanced sideways at Owen.
"Shall we?" she asked.
Owen hesitated for just a second. It was enough for Jenna to smile, tilting her head teasingly.
"What's wrong? Afraid you dance badly?" Jenna asked, raising her voice over the music. "You're an actor. Act. Or are you not up to it?"
Owen looked at her, half amused, half provoked. "Is this a challenge?"
"Maybe. An actor should be able to perform in any situation, whether they're comfortable or not," Jenna replied with a shrug. She genuinely didn't see Owen as the type who liked dancing. "You decide whether you take it or not."
Something shifted in Owen's expression, the look that appeared when he slipped into competitive mode. The same one Jenna already knew from set, when they pushed each other to give more in every scene.
"Alright. Let's go," Owen said, heading toward the dance floor.
Jenna followed without a word.
"Are you going to do the Wednesday Addams dance?" Owen added, teasing. "That could be fun. I'll play the normie who has no idea what's going on, but likes what he's seeing."
"Shut up," Jenna shot back, nudging him lightly with her shoulder.
They stepped into the center of the room together, shoulder to shoulder. The music fully engulfed them: moving lights and bodies jumping all around with little coordination, but plenty of energy.
Melissa greeted them with a celebratory shout. Tyler threw his arms up as if he were witnessing something impossible. From farther away, Matt was dancing with a girl; when he spotted them, he looked surprised too, then broke into a wide smile and gave Jenna a thumbs-up, one she didn't quite notice.
Matt knew how hard it was to get Owen to dance. Not because he was bad at it, or lacked confidence, but because he simply didn't do it. It wasn't in his nature.
Owen and Jenna began moving to the rhythm of the music.
Owen knew that to look like someone who actually enjoyed dancing, he shouldn't try to do choreography or planned steps. He just had to relax his body and move naturally with the music.
Otherwise, if he thought too much, he'd look unnatural and robotic, or too professional, if he executed choreography too well.
'He's actually really good at this,' Jenna thought, smiling as she watched him.
Owen even exaggerated some movements, as if he were acting like he was having the time of his life. Anyone watching him without context would never guess he was someone who didn't like dancing. On the contrary, he looked like he genuinely enjoyed it.
For a moment, Jenna wondered if he had lied and had always liked dancing.
She matched his rhythm, not falling behind.
Their bodies inevitably crossed and brushed against each other in the middle of the packed dance floor. Shoulder bumps, miscalculated steps because of the lack of space and the shifting lights, shared laughs whenever one of them lost the beat.
At one point, Owen ended up face-to-face with a guy with long, wavy hair, wearing sunglasses indoors. The guy looked at him, grinned broadly, and gave him a thumbs-up.
"Nice moves, dude!"
'Dude?' Owen thought, not quite sure how to react. He just smiled.
"Here, you deserve this! For being the ultimate party animal!" the guy said, taking off his sunglasses and holding them out to him.
Owen stared at the sunglasses for a few seconds, confused.
Jenna grabbed them before he could and raised her voice so it could be heard over the music. "Thanks! He appreciates it!"
The guy nodded, satisfied, as if he'd completed an important mission, and disappeared into the crowd, shouting something unintelligible while continuing to dance erratically.
Owen looked at Jenna, pointing at the glasses with an incredulous smile. "How drunk or high do you have to be to wear sunglasses indoors and then give them away?"
Jenna laughed, stepping a little closer to him. "I don't know, but it looks like a relic… and now you're its new owner," she said, rising slightly onto her toes. With a careful, deliberately slow gesture, she placed the sunglasses on his face.
"There. Now you really are the ultimate party animal," Jenna said, appraising him.
"How do they look?" Owen asked.
"Ridiculously good," Jenna replied.
Owen smiled faintly, adjusting the sunglasses as the music kept pounding around them.
They kept dancing for quite a while, until Owen decided it was enough. His forehead was damp with sweat. Why was it so exhausting? It felt like he'd just done a cardio session at the gym.
Owen stepped off the dance floor, while Jenna stayed behind dancing with Melissa and Mikey.
He headed toward the house's balcony. The atmosphere there was different: lower voices, muted laughter, people leaning against the railing with drinks in hand. No blaring music. Just the distant murmur of the party and the cool night air hitting his face.
He stepped aside to a spot where no one else was. He rested his forearms on the stone railing and let the weight of his body lean forward. He exhaled slowly, running a hand across his forehead to wipe away some of the accumulated sweat.
He checked the time on his watch.
2:05 a.m.
'What the hell…?' Owen thought, surprised. It felt like he'd been dancing for, at most, an hour. Two hours couldn't possibly have passed since the toast… or could they? Maybe a little less. Time had flown by faster than he'd realized.
He shook his head and stopped thinking about it.
In front of him, the city stretched out, lit up and distant. He was still wearing sunglasses, which made absolutely no sense at that hour, but it hadn't even crossed his mind to take them off. He wasn't really looking at the view anyway.
His mind was on the new year and everything he had ahead of him.
If 2022 had been an excellent year for his career, 2023 promised to be even bigger. Double, triple, maybe more.
To begin with, he already had three theatrical releases lined up in which he would appear on screen. Two as the lead, and one in a significant supporting role.
The Spectacular Now, set for mid-March, would have him as the protagonist.
Good Will Hunting, according to his own estimates, would hit theaters in July: again as the lead, and also as his most ambitious project to date.
And in November, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes would be released, where he had an important supporting role within a massive franchise, with a hundred-million-dollar budget.
Three films in a single year. Triple what he'd had in 2022.
On top of that came Lights Out. He wouldn't be acting in it, but he was the financier, producer, and screenwriter. The ideal plan was to release it in October, the best month for horror.
But there was a problem.
From the very beginning, Owen and Matt had always assumed the lead would be Sophie. At the time, it had been a natural decision. However, if the relationship ended, the question became inevitable: would she still be the lead? Working with an ex-girlfriend could be uncomfortable at best, tense at worst, especially when he wasn't just financing the project, but also overseeing everything as the creative producer.
Owen gently shook his head and set that dilemma aside for another day. This wasn't the moment to solve it.
January also meant Sundance. He would need to be there for his two short films, both nominated for Best Short Film, and for The Spectacular Now, which would have its world premiere at the festival. A24 trusted that the film would have a solid festival run before its theatrical release.
The problem was the schedule. Everything pointed to Sundance overlapping, at least in part, with the shoot for Good Will Hunting. He would have to organize himself very carefully.
The solution was clear: not attending all ten days, but focusing on what mattered. Being there only on the necessary days, maybe two: the awards for Best Short Film and the premiere of The Spectacular Now.
And that wasn't all.
Owen also had in mind doing one more project that year. Pre-production on Good Will Hunting and Lights Out had started months earlier, so it wasn't unrealistic to think that in 2023 he could still take on a full new project, from pre-production all the way to release.
By his calculations, pre-production was relatively fast for him. He had the films already shot in his head: dialogue, shots, pacing, structure. And since he was financing everything himself, the process was far more efficient. There were no studios layered with bureaucracy, no investors slowing decisions down.
Then came production, which depending on the size of the project could last a month or longer. After that, post-production and marketing, the longest stages, three or four months, most likely.
The key was the period after Good Will Hunting finished shooting. Once it entered post-production, his daily workload would drop significantly. The weight would shift to the editor and the director. Owen would still be involved, but he wouldn't be indispensable full-time.
That would open a clear window for him to start a new pre-production.
If everything went right, that third original project could even be released in November 2023.
Those were his ambitions for the year. He could do more, if he wanted. He had plenty of scripts in his head, and with his track record, it wouldn't be hard to find investors or partners willing to come on board so he wouldn't always have to rely on his own capital. But he didn't want to.
He preferred quality over quantity. Even for his own production company, more than three projects in a single year already felt excessive. There was no point in forcing the machine just because he could.
There was also another factor: exposure. Even if he had the capacity to act in more films, he knew it wasn't always a good idea.
Far from helping, it often worked against you. It had happened before with other actors: a year of overexposure, too many releases back-to-back, and the sense of burnout appeared quickly, not because of a lack of talent, but because of saturation.
So what would that third project be, after Good Will Hunting and Lights Out?
Precisely so he wouldn't keep chaining one film after another, Owen was starting to think about a series.
Not just as a change of format, but as a conscious way to vary the pace. It would also allow him to shift creative gears and avoid constantly repeating the same film, shoot, release cycle.
It was a different kind of challenge.
And it made strategic sense too. Making the jump to a series would expand his presence without falling into feature-film overexposure.
What were the options?
Owen already had five ideas circling in his head, though he wouldn't necessarily be the lead in all of them. They were very different from one another: Stranger Things, The End of the F*ing World, Friends, or Breaking Bad. Completely different formats, tones, and scopes, and very different roles for him as well. No decision had been made yet; they were just possibilities.
'A series based on It would be interesting too,' Owen thought.
But before he could dive any deeper into that, he heard a voice beside him.
"Hey."
He turned his head and saw Jenna. She looked a little flushed, a bit of sweat on her forehead, just like him when he'd stepped off the dance floor.
"Hey," Owen replied. "Having fun?"
Jenna nodded. "Yeah, but you ditched me," she said. "And it was fun with you."
"Yeah, it was fun," Owen admitted.
"So, I won the dance competition. I lasted ten minutes longer," Jenna said with a faint smile, resting her elbows on the railing.
Owen chuckled softly and conceded the victory.
They stood in silence for a few seconds, looking out at the view, until Jenna spoke again. "Shall we go?"
Owen looked at her. "Go… keep dancing?"
"Of course not," she replied immediately. "Home. Can you drive me?"
They both lived in the same building. Owen had come by car, and Jenna had no way back unless she paid for an Uber, since she'd arrived with her friends, who were still dancing.
"And here I thought we'd stay until sunrise," Owen teased.
Jenna shook her head. "Not a chance. I've already danced for almost two hours. I don't have enough alcohol in my system to last four more."
Owen smiled faintly, he felt the same way. "Alright then. Let's go."
Jenna nodded, and before he could move, she took the sunglasses off his face. "You have to drive," she said, and without another word, put them on herself, adjusting them naturally.
They began weaving their way through the crowd. The party was still at a peak, but it was more than enough for both of them.
They left the house, walked over to the BMW, and fifteen minutes later they were back at the building.
They entered the softly lit lobby as the doors closed behind them. They walked in silence to the elevator. The building was quiet, almost asleep. When they stepped out on their floor, Owen turned slightly to say goodbye and head to the right, toward his apartment.
"Owen," Jenna said, stopping him.
"What's up?" Owen asked, letting out a small yawn.
Jenna hesitated for a second before speaking. "Do you think we could… do something else?" she said. "It's early to go to sleep. It's only two thirty."
Owen looked at her with some surprise. "I thought you wanted to leave because you were tired."
"A little, yeah," Jenna admitted. "But that wasn't the only reason."
She paused, searching for the right words. "I felt self-conscious."
Owen didn't say anything, but he looked at her attentively.
"I barely drank anything," Jenna continued. "And even though I was with my group, I felt like people were watching me the whole time. Like I couldn't disappear for a bit and just be another person."
She didn't need to explain much more. Owen understood immediately. The impact of Wednesday had been brutal: millions of new followers, viral clips everywhere, fully mainstream exposure. Even at a party full of industry people, actors and actresses included, she was still the center of attention.
"I get it," Owen said. "Yeah, we can do something else. If you want to drink, I've got a few bottles Matt bought. We didn't finish them."
Jenna smiled, relieved not to have been turned down. "Perfect. My place?"
"Sure," Owen said.
"Okay, I'll wait for you. I'll leave the door unlocked."
They parted ways right there. Owen went to his apartment, opened the fridge, and grabbed a couple of half-empty bottles. It took him less than a minute. He stepped back out almost immediately, walked a few steps down the hallway, and reached the door to Jenna's apartment.
He rested his hand on the handle, pushed gently, and stepped inside. He closed the door behind him carefully.
'One more hour won't kill anyone,' Owen thought.
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