To clarify from now on: the scenes with Emma are just a joke.
I saw several comnts referencing that in my other fanfics she was a canonical love interest, and I thought it would be funny to play with that by showing Owen feeling as if a "higher force" were trying to push him toward her.
That's all it is, a ta wink. Owen will not end up with Emma. In fact, I don't even have plans for them to talk at this point.
...
Owen and the guys were still at the apartnt. They were getting a bit more ready before heading to a house where they'd be ringing in the New Year surrounded by celebrities and people from the industry, with fairly VIP access.
Tyler and the others had already put Owen through a brief interrogation, trying to get so nas out of him about who they might run into.
Owen didn't know for sure, but considering Jenna's circle of friends, people he already knew at least by na, it made sense to assu that, at the very least, lissa Barrera, Mikey Madison, and others from the Scream cast would be there. And most likely more actors of that sa profile: young, well-known, and from the sa scene.
Owen was sitting on one of the bar stools, his head slightly tilted down as he looked at his phone. He was texting Jenna.
[Jenna: Just so you know, there are a lot of people.]
Owen smiled faintly as he read the ssage. It almost sounded like a warning. Jenna knew, though he had never said it outright, that those kinds of environnts weren't exactly his favorite.
[Owen: It's fine. I already told the guys. No turning back now.]
A few seconds later, she replied.
[Jenna: Perfect. At least I'll have soone to talk to who isn't completely drunk.]
The ssage ca with a teasing sticker.
Owen let out a small laugh and typed back:
[Owen: I have to drive, so my alcohol level will be very low and under control. Enough to talk. See you in a bit.]
He locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket.
These kinds of environnts, crowded parties, loud music, alcohol, and constant noise, weren't Owen's favorite setting.
But not because he was a buzzkill.
He simply felt that that stage of his life was already behind him.
In his previous life, he had died at twenty-seven. During his youth, between fifteen and twenty-three or twenty-four, he had gone out more, like almost anyone at that age. Not excessively or nonstop, but not isolated either. It was a normal phase, one he lived through and that eventually ca to an end.
After that, he'd grown bored of it. Not because he saw it as sothing bad or judged it harshly, but because it stopped interesting him.
Now the situation was peculiar: he had reincarnated in the body of a twenty-year-old, but ntally he was sowhere else.
It wasn't that he hated parties or found them unbearable, he just didn't connect with them the sa way anymore. He was tuned to a different frequency.
And even back then, he had never been the most party-obsessed type, the kind who went out every other day if they could. He had always been more moderate.
The fact that he had decided to go to a party that night ca down to several factors. He had had so alcohol, much less than the others, but just enough to feel a bit looser and in a better mood, without being drunk or losing clarity.
Being with his friends also played a role: the shared atmosphere, the jokes, and the group's energy naturally lifted his spirits. It was barely past ten, and they had already run out of many things to do.
On top of all that, there was a sense of guilt. His friends wanted to spend a different kind of New Year's Eve, sothing with more movent and more people.
At first, the plan had included Sophie's friends, but when that fell through, the night was reduced to the usual routine. Going to the party was, in part, a way not to cut their experience short and to let the celebration be sothing more than the sa old thing.
That's why he decided to text Jenna, and he rembered that ti just a few days earlier, when she had invited him to hang out with her friends and he had declined. He figured she'd have a plan this ti, and he wasn't wrong.
"How long is he going to take in the bathroom?" Erik complained as he walked over to the door, where Tyler had already been locked in for about five minutes.
"How do I look?" Gaten asked, checking himself in the mirror as he brushed his hair to the side.
"Nice, man! Ready to break so hearts!" Matt replied, giving him a thumbs-up as he poured himself another shot.
Owen smiled. They were already at that exact level of drunkenness, not out of control, but just enough to feel looser, more optimistic, and enthusiastic about absolutely everything.
Erik reached the bathroom door and knocked twice, hard and impatient. "Co on, man! What are you doing in there? Giving birth to a turd or what?"
Tyler's voice ca from inside. "Don't rush ! I'm almost done."
"That's what you said three minutes ago," Erik shot back.
Matt, Owen, and Gaten walked over, amused.
"Push, man!" Matt laughed, and the others joined in.
"Harder!" Gaten added.
"If I know you're all standing out there, I'm gonna take even longer," Tyler replied.
"Oh, perfect," Owen said. "Stage fright from using soone else's bathroom."
"It's the pressure of the event," Gaten added. "He wants to arrive flawless and not ss up the host's bathroom."
"Get lost, you parasites!" Tyler shouted, and laughter erupted.
They moved away from the bathroom, heading back to the dining area, and barely three minutes later the bathroom door opened. Tyler walked out, adjusting the collar of his shirt like nothing had happened.
"All set," he announced. "Now let's go to that party."
In less than five minutes, they were all inside the BMW.
Owen was driving, Matt in the passenger seat, and the other three in the back: Tyler, Erik in the middle, and Gaten.
Owen entered the address into the GPS and started driving. Fifteen minutes to the destination.
With the window down and the wind hitting him full in the face, Tyler leaned halfway out and shouted, "The bosses have arrived!"
Matt twisted around from the front seat, pointed at him with his thumb, and asked, "How much has this guy had to drink?"
"Less than you," Erik replied, focused on rolling a cigarette. "The problem is it hits him way faster."
He finished rolling it carefully, lit it, and took a deep first drag.
"Alright," he said, satisfied. "Now we're good."
Gaten looked at him, eyes a little wider than usual. "Is that weed?"
"What did you expect?" Owen replied, amused, without taking his eyes off the road. "The guy studies film at USC. It's basically mandatory."
Laughter filled the car.
"Hey, don't exaggerate, that's a classic stereotype," Erik defended himself. "Besides, it's not bad. It's dicinal. It relaxes you, doesn't hurt, and it's way better than alcohol or tobacco. And don't even compare it to real drugs, those are the ones that are actually a problem for society."
"Sure, sure," Matt said. "Very responsible."
"Exactly," Erik nodded. "I take care of myself."
Erik passed the joint to Tyler, who took a short drag and then passed it to Gaten, gesturing to ask if he wanted so.
Gaten hesitated for a second, then accepted. He inhaled and imdiately coughed. Erik gave him a couple of playful pats on the back. "Easy. It just takes practice."
Then it was Matt's turn. He took a drag and, without even offering it around, handed it back to Erik. He knew Owen didn't smoke.
"Do you think the Wednesday actresses will be there?" Tyler asked, waving his hand to push the smoke out the window.
Obviously, he knew the lead would be there, but even for him, trying sothing with Jenna already sounded like aiming way too high.
"Maybe one or two," Owen replied, not entirely sure.
From what Jenna had told him, she'd done a prega at a friend's place first, then they'd all moved on to this much bigger party.
"Any preferences?" Matt asked, with a crooked smile.
"Emma Myers," Tyler replied. "She's cute."
Owen couldn't help but ntally raise an eyebrow at the na. He rembered that Netflix movie he'd been offered an audition for. He'd ended up turning it down, there was just no way to make the schedule work.
It could've been fun, though. A typical light cody.
Erik snorted, a mix of mockery and realism.
Tyler imdiately looked at him. "What?"
"She's out of your league, man," Erik said. "Even for . Let's be realistic."
"Shut up," Tyler shot back, smacking him on the shoulder hard enough that he almost dropped the joint.
Before the argunt could escalate, Matt stepped in. "I'm just hoping Christina Ricci is there."
"Christina Ricci? The one from The Addams Family, who played Wednesday when she was a kid?" Gaten asked, looking at Matt with confusion.
"The sa one," Matt nodded. "In the Netflix series she plays the evil teacher."
"Dude, she's over forty," Erik said, shaking his head. "I doubt she's going to be at a party full of people who'll be lucky to hit thirty."
"You never know," Matt replied optimistically. "Maybe luck's on my side."
"I didn't know you were into older won," Owen said teasingly. "Just a heads-up, don't go near my mom, or I won't hire you as a director on my movies anymore."
Laughter exploded inside the car.
"Hey, hey," Matt said, raising his hands. "Christina's been my crush since I was a kid. That's all. And if, hypothetically, I were into older won, I'd respect the code, friends' moms are off-limits."
"How noble of you," Erik said sarcastically.
Then Tyler, from the back seat, leaned forward and gave Owen a couple of pats on the shoulder.
"And what about you?" he asked. "You're a real boss. Any particular girl you're interested in?"
For Tyler, Owen occupied a curious place within the hierarchy of that kind of party. Maybe he wasn't the most recognizable celebrity or the one with the biggest social dia following, but his position wasn't asured by imdiate popularity.
He had real creative credibility: the creator of short films accepted at Sundance and Short of the Week, the mind behind the highest-ROI film in history, and the recipient of very solid critical acclaim. On top of that, he'd sold a script to A24, The Spectacular Now, already shot and set to be released in the coming months.
He wasn't the most famous actor or the most seasoned producer in the industry, but he had sothing very few people his age, and even older, possessed: a wild net worth from selling an IP and earning a percentage of the box office; creative control over his projects; new stories on the way, and acting skills that had been praised in Paperman, Paranormal Activity, and The Black Hole.
His acting range wasn't fully validated yet, but he was clearly seen as soone with great potential.
All of that gave Owen an uncommon profile that placed him in a different position, not at the peak of dia noise, but firmly in a space of respect, interest, and expectation within Hollywood's ecosystem.
"Hey, man, he has a girlfriend! Respect!" Erik said sharply, lightly pushing Tyler.
"So what?" Tyler replied without backing down. "She suggested a break, right? Basically a technicality. It wouldn't count as cheating, or am I wrong?"
He looked at the others, seeking backup. The silence that followed was strange.
"Why are you smiling?" Matt asked, noticing the faint smile on Owen's face.
For Matt, the situation felt odd. He'd found out about this only a few hours ago, just like everyone else, and he knew Owen well. Too well.
He knew Owen wasn't the type to cheat. With his looks and his reputation, opportunities had never been lacking, and yet he had never been unfaithful.
Matt knew, for example, about the Madison incident during the filming of The Spectacular Now. Owen could have cheated then and no one would have ever found out, the girl going to his room without raising suspicion, but he hadn't.
But now, seeing that faint smile, maybe Owen was actually considering it, given the break Sophie had proposed and how that made everything more ambiguous.
"That's not it," Owen finally said. "It's just… the word break makes laugh. That's all."
"Laugh?" Matt repeated.
"Yeah, never mind. You wouldn't get it," Owen murmured.
Gaten, who had been quiet until then, spoke up in a more serious tone. "Still, Tyler's point isn't that crazy," he said. "If you think about it, it's also possible that sothing similar is happening on the other side."
Owen didn't respond right away.
"I an," Gaten continued, "Sophie was the one who suggested the break. And now she's off spending New Year's Eve partying with her friends."
Gaten wasn't trying to push him toward anything that could be considered cheating, nor to justify it. His intention was more cautious.
He wanted Owen to keep in mind that, even though there were no reasons yet to distrust Sophie, it also wasn't 100% wise to completely ignore the situation.
Being attentive didn't an acting badly, it ant avoiding being naïve and finding out too late sothing that could have been seen coming.
Tyler took advantage of the opening.
"Exactly," he said. "I don't want to sound pessimistic, and you know Sophie better than we do, but… isn't it a little strange? Suggesting a break right on New Year's and then going out partying. Just saying."
The car fell silent again.
"Maybe…" Owen said, not pushing the topic any further.
The others also dropped the delicate subject. In the end, it would be his decision, how he interpreted the break and how much trust he placed in Sophie.
They finally arrived at the house. They parked a couple of blocks away, the street was already packed with cars and there was no space nearby. They walked a few minutes until they reached the place.
They stopped at the door and rang the bell. The one who opened was the hoowner, who recognized Owen. Jenna had already told him a few minutes earlier that they were coming, so he let them in without any issue.
The house wasn't an ostentatious Beverly Hills mansion, but it was modern and spacious. Clean architecture, large windows, a partial view of the city, and a backyard with a pool lit by soft lights.
Even so, the party was still quite exclusive, not just anyone could get in.
For Tyler, Gaten, and Erik, this was clearly another league. It had nothing to do with a college party, not even a USC one, nor with typical gatherings of young actors. Everything felt bigger and more selective.
When they stepped inside, it was just past 10:30 p.m.
Owen didn't have an exact count, but he estimated there were already more than fifty people, and probably more would keep arriving as the night went on.
"Hey, look," Tyler said, grabbing Erik's arm as they walked behind Owen and Matt.
"What?"
"Over there… I think that's Sydney Sweeney," Tyler said, surprised. "I didn't think she'd be here."
"Well, Jenna Ortega is here too, so it's not that strange," Gaten replied, though his attention kept shifting between the house, the crowd, and the faces he was starting to recognize.
The atmosphere was relaxed, but clearly more elevated than a regular gathering. There was no red carpet, no flashes, no rehearsed poses, but the way people were dressed made it clear it was New Year's Eve, and that no one had shown up by chance.
Elegant dresses dominated, clean cuts, dark tones suited for the night, alongside modern suits without ties, open blazers, and well-fitted shirts. Nothing felt ostentatious or over-the-top, but it certainly wasn't casual either.
There was a clearly defined mix: a significant group of young actors and actresses, personal friends of the host, and couples and guests who weren't directly part of the film world.
Owen walked without paying much attention to faces. It wasn't like he was there to spot celebrities.
The music was already playing, with a DJ set up at one end of the living room. The volu was just right, present and imrsive, but still low enough to allow conversation without shouting.
There was high-quality alcohol, poured drinks, and visible bottles, but nothing out of control or chaotic. It was still early. The most intense part would probably co after the toast, past midnight.
Owen finally spotted Jenna, surrounded by her group of friends. It wasn't that he planned to stick by her side all night, but greeting her was the bare minimum. After all, the invitation had co from her.
Jenna was wearing a black dress, fitted to her body, made of layered fabrics. The design left one shoulder bare, while the other arm was covered by a long sleeve of light, semi-transparent chiffon, adding an elegant, modern contrast.
She had a glass in her hand, barely touched. She was more focused on the conversation than on the alcohol.
As the others talked, Jenna looked up and spotted Owen almost imdiately, as if she had been waiting for his arrival. She raised her hand in a clear greeting.
Owen returned the gesture and walked over.
The greeting was natural and comfortable, friends on the sa wavelength. No exaggeration or unnecessary effusiveness.
Jenna's group gradually paused their conversation, paying attention to the arrival of the new group. Most of the looks, specifically, went to Owen.
After greeting Owen, Jenna began greeting Matt and the others. As she did, she noticed an absence.
'Sophie…' Jenna thought, internally surprised by her absence, but she didn't say anything.
"Guys, this is Owen," Jenna said, introducing him to the group in person for the first ti, since she had already told them about him before.
"And these are…" Jenna continued, introducing everyone one by one, also including Matt and the rest.
The greetings were quick and easy. With the guys, a firm handshake; with the girls, a cheek kiss or a close greeting, nothing overly formal.
"And this is Mikey," Jenna said at last, finishing the introductions.
Owen looked at her and t a pair of dark, attentive eyes that held his for just a mont longer than usual.
Mikey was wearing a black dress made of soft leather, cinched at the waist with a subtle tie that defined her silhouette without overdoing it. Her hair was dark, straight, and fell cleanly over her shoulders, framing a face with soft features and minimal makeup.
"Hey, it's nice to finally et the guy Jenna's talked about so many tis," Mikey said, with an easy smile that didn't seem rehearsed.
"The pleasure's mine," Owen replied. "I hope they were good things."
Mikey let out a soft laugh and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Very good," she said. "That you're very professional, that you take things seriously, that kind of stuff."
Then she looked at him a little more closely, without really trying to hide it.
"Although she curiously left out sothing pretty important," she added, with a smile.
"What's that?" Owen asked, intrigued.
"That you look much better in person than on TV," Mikey said, completely naturally. "It's usually the other way around."
Owen raised an eyebrow, surprised by the bluntness, and offered a faint smile as a way of acknowledging the complint.
Jenna, who had been following the exchange out of the corner of her eye, narrowed her eyes slightly, like soone spotting a deviation just as it begins to form.
"Well," Jenna cut in lightly, "now that introductions are done. Owen, co on, I'll show you around the house so you don't get lost."
She rested a hand on his arm and gently tugged him along, without force. Owen nodded, offering Mikey a polite smile before letting himself be guided away.
"We'll keep talking later," Mikey managed to say, still smiling.
As they walked away, Tyler murmured under his breath, barely audible to Erik and Gaten, sothing about a record: direct flirting, effective, and without Owen having initiated a single move.
Matt, on the other hand, was already in his elent. With his usual ease, he took charge of integrating Gaten, Tyler, and Erik into Jenna's group, moving smoothly between conversations and deeper introductions. They couldn't rely on Owen for that.
The music went up just a notch. Conversations multiplied, and the party began to pick up in intensity as the New Year drew closer.
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