Weeks of filming followed by two solid weeks of editing had left us all looking like we'd been dragged through the nine circles of hell. And now, with the Ferland Demon Film Festival (FDFF) looming just two days away, we were running on fumes and whatever passed for coffee in the demon realm.
As the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the end of our marathon editing session, a cheer erupted in the studio. We'd done it. Three hours of demonic cinematic glory, ready for the world to see.
The team hugged each other, exhausted but elated. I couldn't help but overhear their tired mumblings:
"Sob, I thought our suffering finally ended when we finished filming. Turns out editing is much worse."
"You're right. It was so tiring."
"I kind of miss doing makeup for the cast."
"Now it's complete, I'm glad."
I had to bite back a laugh. If only they knew this was just the beginning.
After bidding farewell to my weary crew, I crashed hard, sleeping like the dead (which, in demon terms, is pretty impressive). I woke up at 10:00 PM, feeling like I'd been hit by a hellhound.
The studio was eerily quiet. Seems like the rest of the crew was either still in bed or just dragging themselves back to consciousness. It wasn't until 1:00 PM that everyone had finally trickled in, looking like they'd been through a war.
"Alright, guys," I said, once everyone was assembled. "Now that we've completed the filming and editing, it's time for the moment of truth. We're going to review the whole film."
A buzz of excitement ran through the group. Amazing how quickly exhaustion can turn to enthusiasm when there's a chance to see the fruits of your labor.
As we settled in to watch, I couldn't help but sneak glances at my team. Their expressions ranged from disbelief to awe as the film unfolded.
"We did... We did this film?" I heard someone whisper.
"I know, right? We're only two hours in, and it's so good."
I chuckled to myself. They probably thought we'd end up with something passably average. After all, what else could you expect from a bunch of inexperienced misfits led by an exiled prince who hadn't even finished high school?
But as the film played on, I felt a swell of pride. We'd done it. Against all odds, we'd created something... well, something pretty damn good.
"Well," I said as the credits rolled, "I guess we didn't completely mess it up, huh?"
The studio erupted in cheers and laughter. Rocky clapped me on the back, nearly knocking me over. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."
As the excitement died down, reality set in. We had a film. A good film, even. But now came the real challenge - getting people to watch it.
***
With our film finally complete, it was time for the moment of truth: submitting it to the festival. I found myself in the lobby of the FDFF headquarters, surrounded by a sea of hopeful filmmakers, each clutching their precious reels like lifelines.
The moment I walked in, all eyes turned to me. I could practically hear their thoughts: "Look, it's the exiled prince. What's he doing here?" Their stares ranged from curious to outright hostile. Great. Just what I needed - more pressure.
I approached the submission desk, where a bored-looking demon sat, his horns curled around a pair of reading glasses. His name tag read "Brimstone, Film Intake Coordinator."
"Name and film title?" he drawled, not bothering to look up.
"Arthur Morningstar," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "The film is called 'The Demonfather'."
At that, Brimstone's head snapped up, his eyes widening in recognition. "Morningstar? As in the exiled prince?"
I nodded, bracing myself for rejection.
To my surprise, a slow grin spread across Brimstone's face. "Well, well. This ought to be interesting. Alright, Your Ex-Highness, let's see what you've got."
I handed over our film reels, each one feeling like it weighed a ton. Brimstone hefted them, raising an eyebrow.
"Three hours, huh? Ambitious."
As he started filling out the paperwork, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was too easy. "Don't you need to review it first?" I asked, immediately regretting opening my mouth.
Brimstone chuckled. "Kid, half the fun of this festival is seeing what kind of train wrecks make it through. And a movie made by an exiled prince? That's too good to pass up."
I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or offended. But hey, we were in. That's what mattered, right?
As I turned to leave, paperwork in hand, Brimstone called out, "Hey, Morningstar!"
I looked back.
"Break a leg," he said, then added with a wink, "Or a horn. Whatever works for you demons."
As I walked out of the lobby, past the staring crowd of fellow filmmakers, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and dread. We'd cleared the first hurdle, but the real test was yet to come.
***
Two days flew by in a blur of anxiety and last-minute preparations. Before we knew it, the Ferland Demon Film Festival was in full swing, transforming the Indulgence District into a glittering spectacle of demonic glamour.
We found ourselves huddled at the edge of the red carpet, watching as a parade of demon celebrities arrived in vehicles that probably cost more than our entire production budget. The air crackled with excitement and the faint scent of brimstone.
My crew, bless their demonic hearts, were absolutely losing it. Their professional demeanor vanished the moment the first star-studded limo pulled up.
"Is that Lee from the Beelzebub acting family?! Lee!" George shouted, jumping up and down like an excited imp.
One of our makeup artists, a young demoness named Lilith, practically swooned. "That's Jonathan from the Lust Family!" Her eyes were so wide I was worried they might pop out of her head.
"You like that guy?" Mara, another crew member, scoffed. "I don't like him. I prefer Leonardo from the Jackson family!"
"Hmph. Jonathan is way more handsome than your Leonardo," Lilith shot back.
"At least he's not a lustful guy like Jonathan."
"That's natural. He is from the Lust Family."
"Heh. Heard he was having relationships with both women and men."
"That's a lie!"
I watched this exchange with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Here we were, about to premiere our film at one of the biggest events in the demon world, and my crew was gossiping like teenagers at a hellfire high school.
"Guys," I tried to interject, "maybe we should focus on—"
"Oh my Satan!" Rocky's voice boomed over the chatter. "Is that... is that Damien Darkflame?!"
I turned to see a towering demon with skin like polished obsidian step out of a car that seemed to be made of living shadows. The crowd went wild.
"Who's Damien Darkflame?" I asked, immediately regretting the question as every single member of my crew turned to stare at me in horror.
"Who's Damien Darkflame?" George repeated, sounding scandalized. "Only the biggest action star in the nine circles! How can you not know Damien Darkflame?"
I shrugged, feeling very much like the out-of-touch exiled prince I was. "Been a bit busy making a movie, remember?"
As my crew launched into a detailed explanation of Damien Darkflame's filmography (apparently, he was famous for his catchphrase "Hell hath no fury like me"), I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. We were small fry in a big, fiery pond.
But then I remembered our film. The Demonfather. Our labor of love, sweat, and probably a little too much ketchup. We might not have the glamour or the star power, but we had heart. And in the movie business, sometimes that's all you need.
"Alright, team," I said, interrupting the Darkflame debate. "Our time will come. For now, let's just enjoy the show. And maybe try not to drool too obviously over the celebrities, okay?"
They laughed, the tension breaking a little.