Rising Shadows follows the journey of Emma, a young woman with dreams of making it in the competitive film industry. Fresh out of film school, she moves to Los Angeles, determined to rise through the ranks and create films that tell powerful stories...
Emma arrived at the studio the next morning with a new sense of purpose. Claire's words from yesterday echoed in her head: Tomorrow's harder. There was no doubt about that. But if she had learned anything on her first day, it was that hard wasn't the problem. The problem was keeping up. The problem was staying sharp when everything around you moved faster than you could grasp. And today, Emma was determined to keep up.
Claire was already at her desk when Emma entered the office. No greetings. No small talk. Just work. Papers scattered across the surface, phone pressed to her ear, fingers tapping at her keyboard in a rhythm that matched the pace of her voice.
Emma slid into the seat by the window and opened her notebook. Claire handed her a stack of folders without a word.
"We have a location issue with the shoot next week. Look into alternatives in the Valley and call me with details by noon," Claire said, her eyes never leaving the screen.
Emma nodded and took the files, already feeling the weight of the day pressing on her shoulders. She started flipping through the location options, jotting down notes, double-checking every detail. The minutes ticked by in rapid succession, the phone on Claire's desk ringing constantly, meetings scheduled and rescheduled in a flurry of voices Emma could barely keep up with.
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By mid-morning, her phone buzzed with a text from Claire: Meeting at 11. Come with me.
Emma scrambled to get the location notes in order, her mind juggling the list of names and numbers she still had to call. But the text from Claire left no room for delay. She stood, grabbed her notebook, and followed Claire out the door.
The meeting room was crowded. Producers, directors, assistants—everyone seemed to be talking over each other. Emma felt small in the room, barely noticed by the others, her presence overshadowed by the intensity of the discussions around her. Claire, however, moved through the chaos like she owned it. She spoke little, but when she did, people listened.
Emma sat next to her, taking notes, trying to keep track of every word, every detail. The conversation was about the new project Grayson had greenlit—an ambitious independent film with a low budget and a tight deadline. The director was fighting for more time, the producers pushing back, citing costs. Emma watched as Claire leaned forward, her voice cutting through the noise.
"You can have one or the other," Claire said, her tone calm but firm. "Time or money. But not both."
The room fell silent for a moment. The director, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a nervous energy, hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
"We'll make it work," he said.
Claire leaned back in her chair, eyes sharp, her point made. The meeting continued, but Emma's attention was divided. She felt the pulse of power in the room, the way Claire controlled the conversation without ever raising her voice. It wasn't just about knowing the business. It was about knowing how to wield that knowledge. It was something Emma knew she needed to learn.
