The following week was a blur of long hours, tight deadlines, and relentless pressure as the production continued. Ethan quickly learned that working on set was a marathon, not a sprint. Each day seemed to blur into the next, with no time to reflect, no space to rest. But he thrived in it—this was what he had always wanted, a chance to prove himself.
Beacon Studios wasn't perfect—far from it—but that was what made it exciting. Each day presented a new challenge, a new problem to solve. The studio was held together by duct tape, worn-out props, and the sheer determination of the crew, but somehow, it kept moving forward. And for Ethan, that was enough.
The second week of production had him juggling multiple tasks. One moment he was helping Marge patch up torn costumes, the next he was on set, making sure the props stayed consistent between takes. He had become the go-to person for anything that needed fixing or adjusting, and he thrived under the pressure.
By the third day of the week, he was fully immersed in the rhythm of the set. He had established a routine—arriving early to help set up the props, working closely with the actors to ensure everything was in place, and staying late to help pack up. Despite the exhaustion, there was something satisfying about the grind, something fulfilling about being part of a team that was bringing a story to life.
On this particular morning, the set was unusually quiet. It was early, even by Beacon Studios' standards, and the crew hadn't yet arrived. Ethan stood outside the studio, sipping a cup of coffee and watching the sun slowly rise over the city. The quiet moments were rare, but he had learned to appreciate them when they came.
As he leaned against the building, deep in thought, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He turned to see Marge walking up, carrying a large bag over her shoulder. She looked as tired as he felt, but her eyes still held that spark of determination he had come to admire.
"Morning," she grunted, setting the bag down next to him. "You're here early."
"So are you," Ethan replied, taking another sip of his coffee.
Marge shrugged. "Never could sleep much before a big day of shooting. Too much on my mind."
Ethan nodded. He understood that feeling all too well. "What's in the bag?" he asked, nodding toward the large bundle at her feet.
"Costumes for today's scene," she said, her voice heavy with the weight of the day ahead. "I stayed up half the night fixing them. Some of them were falling apart—again. But that's life around here."
Ethan chuckled softly. "It seems like everything is always falling apart around here."
Marge gave a short laugh, though it was more of a tired exhale than a genuine laugh. "Yeah, but that's part of the fun, isn't it? Figuring out how to keep it all together, even when it feels like the whole thing's going to collapse."
Ethan smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie with Marge. She was tough, no doubt, but she had a deep love for the work they were doing, even if it meant late nights and constant stress.
"Let's get inside," she said, grabbing the bag and heading for the door. "We've got a lot to do before the rest of the crew shows up."
Inside the studio, they wasted no time getting to work. Marge focused on the costumes, while Ethan began organizing the props for the day's shoot. The scene they were shooting was another battle sequence, and the actors would be decked out in armor and wielding swords once again. Ethan knew the props had taken a beating during the last few days of filming, so he inspected each one carefully, making minor repairs where necessary.
As he worked, the rest of the crew began to trickle in, and soon the studio was alive with the usual buzz of activity. Actors gathered in one corner, running through their lines and adjusting their costumes, while the camera crew set up the equipment. Rick Donovan, the director, was already barking orders, his voice sharp and impatient as he made sure everything was ready for the first take.
Ethan had learned to tune out the chaos around him, focusing on his tasks without getting overwhelmed by the noise and movement. It was a skill he had developed in his previous life, and it served him well here.
Just as the cameras were being set up for the first shot, Eric appeared by Ethan's side, his usual clipboard in hand. "Hey, Ethan. Can you give me a hand with the props? We need to get the shields and swords over to the actors."
"On it," Ethan replied, grabbing a couple of the shields and following Eric over to the set.
As they handed out the props to the actors, Ethan noticed something unusual. One of the swords—a key prop for the scene—had a crack running down the blade. He hadn't seen it before, and he knew it hadn't been there the day before. His stomach twisted as he realized that the sword could break during the scene if it wasn't fixed.
"Hold on," Ethan said, pulling Eric aside. "We've got a problem with this sword. It's cracked, and it might snap during the fight scene."
Eric glanced at the sword, his brow furrowing in concern. "Can we fix it?"
Ethan shook his head. "Not in time for the shot. We need a replacement."
Eric sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We don't have time for this. Rick's already on edge about the schedule."
Ethan thought quickly, scanning the other props. He spotted a sword that looked similar, though it wasn't an exact match. "What about this one? It's not perfect, but it's close enough. We can use it for the wide shots, and hopefully, no one will notice."
Eric hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Do it. We can't afford a delay."
Ethan grabbed the replacement sword and handed it to the actor, making a mental note to fix the broken one later. He breathed a small sigh of relief, glad they had caught the issue before it became a bigger problem.
As the day wore on, Ethan found himself dealing with more of these small crises. Props needed fixing, costumes needed mending, and the tight shooting schedule left no room for mistakes. But despite the constant pressure, Ethan kept his cool, working quickly and efficiently to keep the production running smoothly.
By the end of the day, he was exhausted, but satisfied. He had managed to solve every problem that had come his way, and the production had stayed on schedule. It wasn't glamorous work, but it was fulfilling. He was proving himself, day by day, and he could feel his confidence growing.
As he packed up the last of the props, Marge walked over, her face weary but her eyes full of approval. "You're doing good, kid," she said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I've seen a lot of interns come through here, but you've got something different."
Ethan smiled, feeling a rush of pride. "Thanks, Marge. I'm just trying to keep up."
Marge chuckled softly. "Well, you're doing more than that. Keep this up, and you'll go far."
As Ethan left the studio that night, the sky darkening overhead, he couldn't help but feel hopeful about the future. He had survived another day on set, and with each passing moment, he was getting closer to the dream he had always chased.
This was his second chance, and he was determined to make the most of it. There were still challenges ahead, but for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt like he was on the right path.