Chapter 699 - 699: ADVANCED SCREENING
IT was standard for films to hold screenings before their official release. Advanced screenings typically welcomed invited fans, while press screenings catered to critics and media. For [Serendipitous Summer], the studio opted for a combined event—hosting press, critics, and select fans together two days before the movie’s official premiere.
The screening was held in a medium-sized theater near the capital’s center—not the grandest venue, but one with impeccable acoustics and a reputation for hosting prestigious film events. Right now, under the glow of camera flashes, the red carpet event was in full swing.
The supporting cast had already made their entrance—men in tailored suits, women in flowing gowns. Now, only the leads and director remained. As murmurs of anticipation spread through the crowd, a black flying limousine glided to the carpet’s edge, its doors parting with a near-silent hum.
The limousine’s passenger door slid open, and a young man stepped onto the carpet. His jet-black hair curled in soft waves, perfectly framing a face that seemed carved from moonlight. He wore EMMA’s latest Chrome Collection—a liquid-silver suit that draped like mercury over his shoulders.
Astrid Townsend paused at the door, then turned back with effortless grace, offering his hand toward the still-open interior—palm up, as if waiting for someone to come down.
A dainty, unmistakably feminine hand settled atop Astrid’s. Charlotte Anderson emerged—caramel-brown hair spilling in loose waves over one shoulder, her emerald-green eyes bright under the flashing lights. She wore a backless midnight-blue gown, its silk skirt split to the thigh and embroidered with silver diamond-like gems.
Astrid’s fingers closed gently around hers as she stepped onto the carpet. The two of them paused for the cameras before moving forward together.
“So, this is it, huh,” Charlotte mumbled as she smiled at the cameras flashing at them.
Astrid glanced down at Charlotte and noticed the faint tremor in her hand. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We made a good film—the results will prove it.”
And he believed that—truly. It wasn’t just bias as one of the film’s stars, but hard-earned confidence in the work they’d poured into it. With a cast that delivered, a production team that refused to cut corners, and Director Hale’s sharp direction, failure wasn’t just unlikely—it was impossible.
Of course, that wouldn’t always translate to box-office success—but in this case, he wasn’t worried. The film was based on a popular IP; the worst they could do was break even. Even then, it would still be considered a victory.
Charlotte seemed to be energized by what he said, her hand finally stopped trembling. “Yes, you’re right.”
They paused at the midpoint of the carpet just as another car arrived. Director Hale stepped out in a tailored navy suit. Astrid and Charlotte waited until she joined them. Without missing a beat, Astrid extended his free elbow, offering her his arm.
“Are you both ready?” Director Hale mouthed silently, glancing toward the cameras.
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Astrid replied. Charlotte nodded in agreement beside him.
Director Hale grinned. “Then, let’s get this show started.”
***
Before a screening could begin, a short Q&A was often held. Now, the cast and director of [Serendipitous Summer] sat onstage, waiting for the press to start their questions. This was Astrid’s first screening, at least in this life, so he was slightly nervous. But more than that, he was excited.
“Director Hale, [Serendipitous Summer] is one of author One Leaf’s most beloved works. Are you confident your adaptation will give justice to it?” a reporter asked.
Okay. So, they’re not pulling punches. Astrid thought. It’s probably a good idea that One Leaf decided not to attend the screening. With the other’s timid attitude and shy nature, this would probably be too much for her.
Director Hale leaned into the microphone. “Adaptations are never about replication—they’re about translation. One Leaf entrusted us with her work because she believed we understood its soul. Our job was to honor it while making something that stands on its own.” She paused, glancing at her cast. “Judge for yourself in twenty minutes.”
A reporter asked, “Miss Anderson, this is your first major role after just a year in the industry. How did you handle the challenge?”
Charlotte met the question with measured focus. “By respecting the process,” she said. “I studied the script, collaborated with Director Hale on my character’s journey, and learned from everyone on set.” Her tone softened slightly. “I always believe that someone’s first leading role is about growth. I’m grateful mine was with people who grew alongside me.”
A reporter leaned in, mic aimed. “Astrid, you’ve had an unprecedented streak—Rookie of the Year, Star List’s Top 100, EMMA’s luxury campaign—all in under twelve months. How does it feel to dominate an industry most spend years trying to crack?”
Astrid met the reporter’s gaze thoughtfully. “It’s been a whirlwind, but none of those milestones feel like endpoints—just signposts,” he said. The genuine tone in his voice was there for anyone to hear. “I’m deeply grateful to everyone who’s given me these chances. I believe the real work isn’t landing opportunities; it’s making sure you deserve them. That’s why I always make sure to do my very best in every opportunity I’m given.”
The Q&A continued for another twenty minutes—standard questions about production challenges, fan expectations, and the occasional lighthearted anecdote from set. By the time the moderator signaled the end, the air buzzed with anticipation for the screening.
The cast and director moved to their reserved seats as the theater lights gradually dimmed. A soft chime signaled the start of the screening. The PR team opt to use the 5D version of the movie for the screening instead of the VR one. So, those present didn’t need a VR helmet to watch the movie. The screen then flickered to life, its glow cutting through the darkness as the first notes of the soundtrack filled the air.
The screen filled with golden dawn light spilling over a sleepy coastal town—crumbling piers, pastel-painted storefronts, gulls wheeling above the bay. The camera swept down narrow streets, zooming in on a weathered restaurant. Through its salt-fogged windows, a girl sat curled in a booth, utterly absorbed in a book, her fingertips resting against the page.