Chapter 8: Welcome aboard
As the newly resigned employees filed out, leaving behind the scent of crushed dreams and broken promises (or maybe that was just the smell of our junkyard finds), I turned to the remaining 28 employees. "What do you think, guys? Why did they resign?"
They exchanged glances like kids playing hot potato with a secret. Finally, someone gestured to the pile of newspapers on our salvaged sofa.
And just like that, it hit me. The exile. My fall from princely grace splashed across the front pages for all to see. Of course. They'd signed up to work for a prince, not some exiled nobody running a film studio out of a glorified junk heap.
Looking at the employees who stayed, I couldn't help but wonder if they were just here for the paycheck. But you know what? At this point, I'd take what I could get.
I squared my shoulders, channeling every cheesy motivational speech I'd ever heard. "You guys that stayed, I don't know what's your reason for not leaving, but I promise you that you won't regret it. We will be creating our future together, and that will begin with our first film."
The words hung in the air, competing with the smell of old electronics and broken dreams.
But as I looked at the faces of those who remained - a motley crew of demons, few dwarves - I saw something unexpected. A glimmer of hope. A spark of excitement. Or maybe it was just the reflection off our pile of scraps. Either way, I'll take it.
So here we were. An exiled prince, a disaster-prone dwarf, and a ragtag team of misfits crazy enough to stick around. Not exactly the dream team I'd imagined, but hey, every great underdog story starts somewhere, right?
***
One and a half weeks of sleepless nights, countless coffee runs, and more than a few singed eyebrows later, George and I finally cracked it. Our colored camera was ready, and boy, was it a sight to behold.
I gathered the crew around, feeling like a magician about to pull a rabbit out of a hat. "Alright, folks. Prepare to have your minds blown."
As the first images flickered to life, full of vibrant colors, the gasps were audible.
"Holy hellfire," someone muttered. "It's actually in color."
"I've never seen moving pictures like this before," another voice chimed in, awe evident in their tone.
A young demoness, her eyes wide with excitement, turned to me. "We're really going to make a film with this?"
I couldn't help but grin. "You bet your horns we are." As the projection ended, I added, "We've got technology the big studios can only dream of. This color camera is our secret weapon."
George puffed up like a proud papa. "And I'm the one who contributed the most to this invention!" he boasted.
I chuckled, patting him on the back. "Yeah, yeah, you're a regular demon Edison. That's why most of the invention patents are in our names."
"Our names?" George squinted at me suspiciously.
Clearing my throat, I quickly changed the subject. "Now that we've got our camera, it's time to start casting for our first film."
Immediately, hands shot up around the room.
"Boss, can I be in the movie?"
"Ooh, me too! I've always wanted to be on the big screen!"
"I can play a tree really well! Watch!"
I held up my hands, trying not to laugh. "Whoa, hold your hellhounds there, people. You're crew, remember? Didn't they teach you in film school that you're supposed to stay behind the camera? Look, if we need extras, maybe you can sneak in. But that's it."
A chorus of disappointed groans filled the air.
"Come on, don't look so glum," I said, trying to rally their spirits. "Do a killer job on this film, and when it's a hit, you'll all be hot commodities in the industry. Your names in the credits will be worth more than a cameo, trust me."
That seemed to do the trick. The energy in the room picked up again as we started discussing the casting process.
Obviously, we couldn't afford any big-name actors. But that was fine by me. I had my eye on the hungry up-and-comers, the ones clawing their way up from rock bottom. They'd bring a raw energy to the film that no pampered star could match.
Plus, I already had two key roles locked in my mind: yours truly as Michael, and that old codger who owned the Grand Theatre as Don Vito. It was perfect casting, if I do say so myself.
As we dove into the casting plans, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.
Sure, we were a ragtag bunch of misfits working out of a glorified junkyard. But we had passion, we had innovation, and most importantly, we had nothing to lose.
***
Later that day, I found myself back at the old Ferland Grand Theatre. The place was a ghost town compared to the madhouse it had been during the "Rome Can't be Touched" premiere. I could count the people in line on one hand – if I were missing three fingers.
After the whopping crowd of two made their way inside, it was my turn to face the ticket booth.
The old guy's face lit up with recognition. "Oh, Your Highness. Another film to catch today?" he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
I couldn't help but laugh. "Your Highness? Looks like someone's behind on the gossip. I'm not exactly prince charming anymore."
He just sighed, shaking his head. "I know about it, kid. You're exiled now. But that doesn't mean I'll treat you any different."
I felt a lump form in my throat. Damn, I didn't expect the old codger to hit me in the feels like that. Trying to play it cool, I cleared my throat and got down to business.
"By the way, old guy. Are you interested—"
"The name's Rocky," he interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
I coughed, feeling my face heat up. All these years, and I never bothered to learn his name. Some prince I was.
"Right. Old Rocky," I corrected myself, trying to salvage some dignity. "Are you interested in being an actor?"
Rocky's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. "Actor?" he repeated, looking equal parts amused and intrigued. "Why are you asking?"
I grinned, sliding a paper across the counter. "Here. Give this a read. I've started a film company, and I'm about to make my first picture. Thought you might be interested."
As Rocky scanned the paper, his expression grew serious. "So... This is the reason you got exiled."
Now it was my turn to be surprised. "You knew?"
He nodded, chuckling. "Yes. It was all over the newspapers."
My mind raced. There was only one demon who could've leaked that info to the press – my dear brother Bobby. That slimeball owned a newspaper, and apparently had no qualms about airing the family's dirty laundry.
Pushing thoughts of my backstabbing brother aside, I focused on Rocky. "Well, I'll be back tomorrow if you want some time to think it over—"
"No need to wait," Rocky cut me off, a smile spreading across his weathered face. "I'm in."
I blinked, caught off guard. "You're in? Just like that?"
Rocky nodded, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light I'd never noticed before. "Yes. I'm curious about this film that cost you your royal status. I want to see for myself what could be worth giving up all that prestige."
I felt a grin spreading across my face. If an old-timer like Rocky could see the potential, who knows what we could achieve?
"Well then, Rocky," I said, extending my hand. "Welcome to the wonderful world of demon cinema. Hope you're ready for one hell of a ride."