Unexpected (A Chris Hemsworth Fanfiction)

Chapter 2: Before I Was a Hemsworth

Four years before....

Before I married Chris Hemsworth, before I went by Erin Andrews again, and before I had my children, I was a screenwriter. Not a very well-known one albeit but a screenwriter. 

My life was pretty inconsequential. Or I least I considered it to be. My parents tried hard to make that the truth. It kept me blind and ignorant and increased my privalege. My family is very successful. They own a Real estate company that's probably worth millions-- which I don't care to research or ask about--  in San Diego. My parents and my younger brother could be described as business intense people. Whereas I am not. I never was. I was the black sheep. I was the artistic child.

My schooling occurred in private school and ivy league colleges. However, that life wasn't for me. I wanted to experience life to the full. Not through the eyes my parents had attempted so hard for me to see through. I wished to create!

With that being said, I dabbled in graphic design, drawing, and sculpture. Truly, I found solace in music. It took begging on my part for my dad to buy me a guitar and take lessons when I was seven. I took to it with ease. Despite that my father still gave me the lecture that it would never make me money. I'd be poor all my life. It didn't matter any less to me. I loved the guitar. That sparked the learning of many other instruments. Most notably, the saxophone, drums, keys/piano, violin, and taking voice lessons. No matter how much I excelled or claimed I adored it, my dad gave me the same speech on how I'd never have money in my pocket.

Then I did something that gave him even more grief: I started a rock band. The band was called 'Breaking Away'. Fitting , am I right? We practiced in garages and performed at pavilions at parks. One day, a man claiming to be the owner of a local recording studio had the desire to create our first EP for a small fee. My parents refused, so I snuck some money out of my savings account. From there our CD/record was born.

We performed once again at our previous venues with our new album. More individuals began to arrive. I saw a future I could have only dreamed about. Playing music, interacting with the crowd, and touring with my best friends. One night, those big dreams had to change.

My parents discovered what I had done with my money. The stacks of albums on my desk and two guitars were taken from their places and burned in our backyard. They said I had thrown money away, so I needed to learn by having something I had earned as well as paid for taken away. They urged me to choose a different occupation. The deal was I could work in the arts if I was able to support myself a year after college and choose something that could possibly earn money. Usually it would not be creative's first thought, but I chose writing. It came as the otherhand in my love for music. 

As I declared before, I went ivy league. My parents had connections on the East coast because my parents were born and raised. However, I first went to the capital of Massachusetts  for my undergraduate degree. While I attended BU (Boston University) I had a part-time job with the Boston Globe. I wrote columns about campus life and anything major that occurred. It was good for all four years. It wasn't just my writing keeping money on the table as I snuck away to Beatnik style poetry nights for musicians-- spotlight and hazy rooms in all. After that I spent three years at Columbia University in New York for graduate school. Since I got some high recommendations from the Globe back in Boston, The New York Times was eager to get their fingers on my work and typing hands. I started out as an intern and within a year I was paid to write stories about politicians destined to fall or the humanitarian that deserved recognition for their work for humanity. I was a journalist for two years following my graduation from Columbia. Throughout the nine years I spent away from California, I continued to perform in the cafes on the side and continued to have the old albums be produced. They are now on Amazon and I still continue to receive revenue from it.

Then I decided the next step was screenwriting in Hollywood. I did ask my parents for money to make my film on a low budget. I found other producers, directors, and editors willing to be a part of my first project. I should note, it was mainly people from my days of journalism, went to school with, or knew at some point in San Diego. Once the filming wrapped up, I submitted it to film festivals around the country. One replied back: a film festival run by Justin Baldoni. Justin Baldoni plays Raphael in the show, Jane the Virgin. He gave me the opportunity of a lifetime, sealing my fate and marrying myself to Hollywood. It was a chance for a girl who had parents with money; yet hadn't made a name for herself.

Despite my beliefs, it was good enough to win awards. Still most of my paycheck was received from the album. I even made a second one, except it was solo. Just a guitar, piano, and my little voice to fill the recording space. This went with the first film I created for a festival. It began to sell quickly. Maybe it didn't give me much, but just enough to love what I did. My life changed even more. More than I could have ever expected.

My parents were surprised by my success. Either because they didn't believe in me or due to my occupation. They decided to have a lavish party in honor of the awards. I almost refused such an idea because I was working on something that would never find its wings. Or so I pondered. Honestly, what I was working on couldn't even be described as a film. In essence, it was fan fiction.

Let me elaborate, since my youth, I've always loved Ghostbusters. No, seriously! It was more than a love. It was an obsession. Since the first time I watched it, I saw the potential of female ghostbusters. I dreamed of it. Even envisioned myself one of the bad ass ladies kicking plasma. 

However, what I wrote, while tears simmering in my obssessed psyche, it was fan fiction. Pure comedy. Pure embarrassment. What other words can I use for my story and fan fiction in general? Cringe-worthy. Strange. Somewhat enjoyable. Weird. You come up with the rest.

Back to my parents, they didn't let me cancel. For the first time in two years, I was off to San Diego. They knew what I was working on and declared they saw stock in. That was never a phrase said by them in my childhood. They were either telling the truth or were pulling my leg, thus I had to find out.

At this party, I saw old friends, San Diego socialites I once knew, Donald Trump even came (I hate that guy and my parents are voting for him due to their friendship and not for his policies), and notable actors as well as directors. One in particular caught my eye. His name is Paul Feig. Pronounced like the fruit, fig. Alongside him was Dan Aykroyd. I had to try to act like a normal human being for the best hour of my life. The veteran actor and director discussed with me the potential of what I had written. In the end, major edits were made and working with another writer; the reboot with a female cast was born.

When this occurred, I didn't want to have much association with my family (I wanted to be known for my work and not being part a dynasty of real-estate), I chose a new name. Perry Edwards. Yes, there were similarities to another yet I spelled it differently, so it seemed I wasn't the same person.

Now here we are, where this story truly begins. When I realized that life is unexpected. Sometimes it might turn out better than the expected.