CHAPTER 400: THE LONG TAKE

After two months of intensive dance training - mastering everything from tap to jazz - the project finally moved into actual production. Their first major shoot: shutting down the interchange between the 105 and 110 at Harbor Freeway.

The morning sun beat down on the concrete as the crew transformed the freeway into their set.

Classic cars from different eras lined up - convertibles, vintage sedans, even an old Volkswagen bus, each painted in vibrant colors that popped against the gray asphalt. Dozens of dancers in summer clothes stretched and practiced their moves between the vehicles, their energy electric with anticipation.

Sound equipment, massive cranes with cameras, and production crews bustled about, turning the usually busy freeway into an elaborate dance stage. The scale was enormous - choreographed chaos contained within blocked-off concrete walls.

Lucas and Emma found a shady spot to watch the preparation unfold. Since they weren’t part of this particular sequence, they had the rare opportunity to observe the massive production from an audience perspective.

"This is insane," Emma whispered, watching dancers climb onto car hoods and practice their positions. "I’ve never seen anything like this."

Lucas nodded, equally impressed by the ambition of the scene. The entire freeway had become a living, breathing movie set - a perfect visualization of Damien’s vision coming to life.

Time flew by as the production team made their final preparations. Everyone moved with focused energy - sound engineers checking their equipment, camera operators testing angles, dancers stretching and running through their positions one last time.

Finally, Damien called for quiet on set. Lucas and Emma watched from their spot as the scene came alive - dozens of dancers flowing between colorful cars, their bodies moving in synchronization.

Even though their singing would be replaced in post-production, their voices filled the air with genuine passion, adding life to their movements.

At the monitors, Damien’s eyes never left the scene, catching every detail. The dancers made their dangerous choreography look easy, spinning and leaping across car hoods and roofs in the summer heat.

"Look at the attention to detail," Emma whispered to Lucas as Damien called cut for the twentieth time, just because one dancer’s arm wasn’t quite right for the shot. "He really won’t compromise on anything, will he?"

"He’s really grown since ’Whiplash,’" Lucas responded quietly, watching Damien work. "Back then he would’ve probably let that slide. Now he knows exactly what he wants - won’t settle for anything less."

Hours slipped by, and Lucas had to admit he was genuinely impressed by the dancers. No—these dozens of performers weren’t professional ’dancers’. They were extras who had learned to dance specifically for this scene. Having practiced alongside them, Lucas was familiar with many of their stories and often chatted with them during breaks.

Between takes, he’d quietly offer guidance when he noticed someone struggling with a step or timing. Emma watched this interaction with growing admiration. She’d heard stories about Lucas’s kindness to everyone on set, from leads to extras, but seeing it firsthand gave those stories new meaning.

***

Two days vanished in a blur before the freeway would reopen to traffic. Among the impressive sequences filmed, one particular scene stood out - a complex shot following Emma and her roommates from inside their apartment, through corridors, and into their car as they prepared for a party, all while performing an energetic musical number.

The camera moved seamlessly with them, capturing their movement and energy in one continuous take.

For Lucas, who’d seen his share of technical achievements in film, even he had to admire the precision required to pull this off. The steady camera work tracking the actresses as they danced and sang through multiple locations, transitioning from interior to exterior without a single cut - it was a testament to what their extensive rehearsals had made possible.

Damien and the entire production team had somehow managed to capture all the spontaneous energy of young dreamers getting ready for a night out, while executing an incredibly complicated technical sequence. It was the kind of filmmaking magic that reminded Lucas why he loved this industry.

Meanwhile, during filming breaks, Lucas, Emma, J.K. Simmons and other cast members would pull out their phones to record videos for Vine. They’d upload them later after shooting wrapped.

Even with the project’s intense focus, everyone understood the need to blow off steam and have fun between takes.

At the Smoke House Restaurant, before filming began, Lucas glanced over at Emma. "Did you know about Vine’s new viral feature?"

Emma looked up from scrolling through her phone. "Viral feature?" She paused, recognition dawning. "Oh, is it that Dubsmash thing?"

Lucas chuckled, nodding. "Yeah - that thing." The ’Dubsmash’ app had been huge in his previous life - but here, he’d actually planned this feature months ago for Vine.

"Let’s make a video. I’ll lip-sync ’Sweet Dreams,’ how about it?" Lucas suggested.

Emma grinned. "Why not? I’ll record you."

While waiting for their next scene, Lucas and Emma huddled together to record their Vine.

The cast’s Dubsmash session grew as others joined in, creating a moment of shared laughter before filming resumed.

When shooting began at the restaurant, Lucas took his place at the piano. The scene called for him to play a passionate jazz piece while diners ignored him.

As the cameras rolled, Lucas transformed - his fingers dancing across the keys with practiced precision, weaving through an intricate Christmas melody before breaking into an improvisational jazz arrangement that showcased both technical mastery and emotional depth.

The lighting shifted subtly, dimming across the restaurant until only Lucas remained illuminated at the piano. His performance carried such authenticity that Damien found himself forgetting this was an actor playing a role - Lucas moved like someone who’d spent decades mastering jazz piano.

The extras playing diners maintained their assigned indifference perfectly, though many later admitted how difficult it was not to stop and watch. They continued their conversations and meals while this incredible performance unfolded, creating the perfect contrast the scene needed.

As the final notes faded, the restaurant lights brightened again, conversation volume returned to normal, and Damien didn’t even need to call "Cut." Lucas had captured everything in a single take - the frustration, the passion, the defiance of an artist being ignored while creating something beautiful.

Then Bill strode over to the piano, his face stern as he fired Sebastian for deviating from the approved Christmas setlist. The difference between Lucas’s fiery performance and J.K.’s controlled anger made the scene come alive with tension.

After the scene wrapped, Lucas headed for a break, aware of the admiring glances from cast and crew.

"I know I’ll sound like a total fangirl," Emma said, dropping into the chair next to him, "but watching you play just now? That was actually incredible."

Lucas chuckled. "Says the one who nailed her reaction shots perfectly."

"No, seriously," Emma insisted. "The way you just became this whole other person at the piano..."

They fell into a loop of trading compliments for several minutes, each trying to outdo the other’s praise.

"Okay, we need to stop," Lucas laughed. "This is getting ridiculous."

"You’re right," Emma grinned. "We sound like we’re hosting each other’s fan clubs."

***

Day after day, filming moved forward. Today’s shoot centered around a sun-drenched pool party, where Damien crafted a perfect collision of dreams and reality.

Emma wandered through the crowd as Mia, dodging an eager friend’s attempt to introduce her to yet another "writer with projects all over town." After a polite escape, she made her way toward the bar, the sound of the terrible 80s cover band growing louder with each step.

That’s when she spotted Lucas at the keyboard. His character Sebastian stood out painfully in his polyester outfit, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. The contrast between his jazz artistry from earlier scenes and this gig made the moment even more pointed.

When the singer asked for requests, Emma delivered her line with perfect timing: "I Ran." The look that passed between their characters spoke volumes - her challenging smile met his flash of recognition and mounting horror.

Lucas captured Sebastian’s mortification perfectly as he reluctantly tapped out the simple, repetitive keyboard intro. One note, over and over - about as far from jazz as he could get. Emma maintained her satisfied smile, knowing she’d caught him in exactly the kind of commercial compromise he’d sworn to avoid.

***

After the pool scene wrapped, Lucas and Emma huddled together, running through their upcoming dialogue. When shooting resumed, they moved inside the house, where warm interior lights contrasted with the blue twilight filtering through windows.

The scene sparked with tension as Lucas stormed in, seeking Emma out. Their back-and-forth flowed naturally - his forced apology for being "curt," her sardonic responses. When Lucas called himself a "serious musician," Emma’s delivery of "My God" dripped with perfect sarcasm.

The exchange escalated beautifully, with Lucas slipping in subtle improvisations that kept Emma on her toes. His jab about her being an actress carried just the right amount of condescension, while she countered with the coffee shop line, maintaining their characters’ early antagonistic chemistry.

Despite Lucas’s occasional unscripted additions, Emma kept pace. Their countless rehearsals had prepared her for his tendency to add spontaneous elements, making their verbal sparring feel authentic rather than rehearsed.

When Damien finally called cut, Emma let out a long breath. "Thank god that’s done. I swear, doing dialogue with you is like verbal jazz - never know when you’re going to throw in some improvised riff."

Lucas chuckled, knowing she was playing up her exasperation. They’d developed enough trust by now that his ad-libs added energy to their scenes rather than throwing her off.