Game On (An oc x DRV2 au)

Chapter Sixteen

Will practically screams as we set foot onto the third island and look to our left. It's a movie theater.

"My home away from home!" he gasps, and I run after him.

"The marquee outside said it's showing something called... Dementophobia?" I call. He stops dead in his tracks.

"That's my most famous film!" he practically screams. "You know how many awards that f*ckin' thing won??"

"...A lot?" I guess.

"Damn right!"

I chase after Will as he sprints through the front doors and through the lobby. By the time I make it inside, he's vanished into the viewing room itself. Given how he'd been back at the kitchen just twenty-ish minutes ago, he's completely flipped his mood on its back.

I find him sitting in the front row, looking up at the big screen in front of him with wide eyes. I say nothing, just sit next to him and start watching. I don't think much of the short film at first- it's the same small room with the same small table and the same flickering light again and again. And there's only one actor. But there's something about the angles and shots that makes it so much more. The shots start out smooth and long, but slowly begin to get shorter and shakier throughout. The flickering light becomes an epileptic hazard, and my soul nearly flies out of my body as the actor shoves the table to the ground, the crash being the loudest of the few sounds made in the entire thing. There's just something so increasingly unsettling about the film, and once the screen goes black, I'm just staring with my mouth open in shock and my eyes wide. Will sees my face and laughs.

"Did you like it?" he asks, his legs bouncing in anticipation.

"I mean, yeah," I say. "It's really neat."

"Thanks! It's hard to nail a good psychological thriller. Stuff like The Shining and Seven hits the nail on the head flawlessly, so I made it my project to, with the lowest budget possible, make a short film that captures the same energy of being in your own head."

"So it was just a way to save a f*ck ton of money?"

Will shrugs. "I mean, I literally just used a spare room in my house and repurposed it. We didn't have to buy a set, and the actor was a friend of mine. We didn't have to spend more than, like, $200, mostly on fixing up the room, and we made the most ridiculous profit off of it once it got mainstream."

"That's... really impressive," I comment.

"'Course, my parents made the two of us put most of the money towards our savings accounts."

"I'm not surprised." We stare at each other for a minute before laughing.

"Hey, I'm sure you've won prizes for your art and your parents have told you the same thing," he defends.

"Of course! You're not going to be spending all that right away, Sophie. You should be smart about saving all this for when you need it, Sophie," I recall, putting on a fake parent voice to emphasize my point.

Will grins. "Parents. They never change."

He then goes quiet before mumbling, "I miss 'em."

"Me too," I agree.

Another beat of silence passes before Will shakes it off and looks back up at the screen. "It was nice seeing my work on the big screen again. It reminds me why I love doing what I do, the results. Seeing all my hard work pay off in the end."

"I think a lot of us here can probably agree," I say. "I mean, I know I can, with my art and stuff."

"Y'know, we're not too different, Soph. We both work in the digital field. And personally, I think filmmaking is an art of sorts."