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Chapter 9: Casting

Our cobbled-together equipment, mostly built from scrap, gave the place a mad scientist vibe.

The blackboard, covered in chalk scribbles, looked like we were planning to rob a bank instead of make a movie.

And there, in all its glory, hung our pride and joy - the Hellfire Studios logo. It might've been painted on a reclaimed pizza box, but hey, it was ours.

I watched Rocky sniff around, feeling my stomach knot up. This was it - the moment he realized he'd signed up for a circus instead of a film studio.

"So, this is your company, huh?" Rocky stroked his chin, his expression unreadable. "I have to say..." he paused, and I braced myself for the worst. "I expected much worse. But this? This is quite alright."

I felt like I'd just dodged a fireball. "Haha, yeah," I laughed, trying to play it cool. "It's just the beginning, you know? Rome wasn't built in a day and all that."

Rocky's eyes twinkled. "Don't worry, kid. I've seen shadier operations turn into gold mines. You've got potential here."

Grinning, I clapped my hands to get everyone's attention. "Listen up, folks! This distinguished gentleman here is Rocky. He's gonna be in our film."

The room went quiet. I could practically hear the gears turning in their heads as they sized Rocky up.

Sure, he looked like he'd be more at home feeding pigeons in the park than starring in a movie, but that was the point.

"He's playing the Old Don," I explained, watching understanding dawn on their faces. "Trust me, he's perfect for the part."

The team nodded, but I could still see doubt in their eyes. What they didn't know was that Rocky was practically Vito Corleone incarnate. His mannerisms, his voice - hell, we'd barely need makeup. With a bit of practice, he'd nail it.

George, bless his heart, was the first to break the ice. "Well, welcome aboard, Rocky," he said, extending a hand. "I'm George, co-founder of this little madhouse we call a company."

As Rocky and George shook hands, chatting like old friends, my mind was already racing ahead. We had our Don, we had our Michael (yours truly), but we still needed to flesh out the rest of the cast.

Finding more actors who were willing to take a chance on us was the next hurdle.

I turned my attention to Klein, our young demon casting director. The poor kid looked like he was about to melt into a puddle of nervous sweat.

"So, how's the casting going? Found any diamonds in the rough?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

Klein's eyes darted around like he was looking for an escape route. "Um... I, I didn't really find one yet..."

I could practically see the weight of responsibility crushing him. This was why most companies wanted experienced folks. But me? I had different ideas.

Inexperienced people were like blank canvases, ready for me to paint my vision on. They were cheap, they complained less, and most importantly, they were malleable. They'd follow my lead, their whole careers held in my palm like puppets on strings—

Whoa there, Arthur. I shook my head slightly. Getting a bit too Aizen for comfort.

"Where's the list of rock-bottom actors?" I asked, pushing away my momentary delusions of grandeur. "Let's take a look."

Klein nodded frantically, handing over a stack of papers. Black and white headshots stared up at me, names scrawled beneath each desperate smile.

I flipped through the pages, then looked back at Klein. "Uh, where are the resumes?"

Klein's face went from nervous to 'oh crap' in record time. "Uh... I've forgotten about it..."

Before I could respond, another young demon swooped in like a guardian angel. "Sorry, boss. We'll just get it at the actors guild," he said, already steering Klein towards the door.

"Please do, Melvin," I nodded, watching as he practically dragged Klein out of the studio.

As the door closed behind them, I couldn't help but chuckle. What a mess. But you know what? It was our mess.

I looked down at the headshots again. Each face told a story of dreams deferred, of hopes hanging by a thread. These weren't seasoned pros looking for their next big break. These were demons (and the occasional dwarf or other creature) on their last chance, ready to give it their all.

***

Two days into our casting marathon, and I was starting to feel like we were herding cats. Sure, we'd nailed down some of the side characters, and we had our Vito in Rocky. I was set to play Michael, Johnny Lake had snagged Tom Hagen, and a demon named Charles was our Sonny. But the rest of the main cast? Still up in the air.

We still needed our Kay, Luca Brasi, Apollonia, Fredo, Johnny Fontane, Moe Greene, Carlo Rizzi... the list went on. At this rate, it'd take us two weeks just to fill out the cast list, let alone start filming.

I wasn't sweating the minor roles too much. It was the big ones that kept me up at night. Luca Brasi, the Don's loyal muscle, needed to be just right. And Kay? She was Michael's endgame, his anchor. We couldn't mess that up.

So there we were, camped out next to the warehouse, watching a parade of hopefuls strut their stuff. The recent rain had left everything smelling fresh, a nice change from our usual eau de demon.

We'd strategically positioned ourselves to avoid a suspicious pile that was definitely not fertilizer, courtesy of some local hellhound.

George sat next to me, looking like he was one bad audition away from a nap. I couldn't blame him. We'd seen enough bad acting to last several lifetimes.

Then, like a ray of sunshine cutting through the gloom, she appeared. A silver-haired elf, so stunning she made even us demons do a double-take.

I glanced down at her profile. "You're Firfel Evergreen?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.

She nodded, her face a mask of cool professionalism.

I stroked my chin, mind racing. She was auditioning for Kay, and looks-wise, she was perfect. But could she act?

"You're quite the sight for sore eyes," I said, curiosity getting the better of me. "What brings an elf like you to our neck of the woods?"

Her expression didn't change, but her voice could have frozen hellfire. "I prefer not to answer that question. I'm here to audition for the role that caught my attention. Nothing more."

I blinked, caught off guard by her frostiness. But you know what? It was refreshing.

"Fair enough," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Well then, Firfel Evergreen, show us what you've got. The scene is Kay confronting Michael about his family's business. Action!"

Firfel Evergreen took a deep breath, and in that moment, something shifted. The cool, aloof elf was gone, replaced by a woman torn between love and fear, hope and suspicion.

"Oh, Michael," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I thought I knew you. I thought... but now I hear these terrible things."

I felt a chill run down my spine. This wasn't just good acting - this was alchemy. Firfel had transformed herself entirely, her ethereal elven beauty now radiating the all-too-human pain of Kay Adams.

George, who'd been half-asleep moments ago, was now sitting bolt upright, his eyes wide.

Rocky was nodding slowly, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Even our crew, who'd seen dozens of auditions by now, had stopped their usual fidgeting and whispering.

As Firfel continued her monologue, her voice rising and falling with emotion, I found myself forgetting we were in a makeshift audition space next to a warehouse. For those few minutes, we were transported into the world of our film, watching a pivotal moment unfold.