Chapter 526: Don’t miss any opportunity.

In the bustling heart of downtown Los Angeles, adjacent to the grandeur of City Hall Square, an entire road lay cordoned off, a hive of cinematic activity. The morning sun blazed down, its rays turning the asphalt into a shimmering canvas, reflecting the feverish energy of the crew below.

Martin, freshly emerged from the makeup trailer, stepped onto the set, his eyes taking in the extraordinary scene. Cars lined the road, poised like actors awaiting their cue.

Nolan, the director, was a whirlwind of activity, orchestrating the crew with a conductor's precision. "Carefully now, bring the train forward," he instructed the stunt team. The vehicle, a curious spectacle, was a train repurposed without rails.

Mene sauntered up to Martin, her gaze fixed on the mechanical marvel. "Look at that," she exclaimed, "a train built without any rails!"

Martin peered closer, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Seems like it's been modified from a truck."

At that moment, Ellen Page breezed onto the set, her presence like a fresh gust of wind. She greeted Martin with a warm smile, her energy infectious.

Ken Watanabe, Cillian Murphy, and Tom Hardy soon joined, each bringing their unique aura to the charged atmosphere.

Nolan, returning from supervising a crane setup, raised his voice to carry over the din. "Safety first, everyone!" He glanced at his cast and crew, his expression a mix of determination and concern. "Remember, it's a split scene – two cars, two parts!"

Heads nodded in understanding, a silent symphony of agreement.

Nolan's brow furrowed slightly. "We've got props that are only good for one take. We have to nail this in the first go. No second chances with these live shots!"

Martin climbed into a red Cadillac, its sleek form a stark contrast to the chaotic surroundings. He knew the importance of sequence; the script demanded precision.

Mene and Watanabe found their places in a classic Los Angeles yellow cab, their roles pivotal in the unfolding drama.

As Nolan's directives echoed from the loudspeakers, an artificial downpour began, courtesy of strategically placed sprinklers. Despite the deluge, the sun continued its relentless shine, a surreal backdrop to the dream-like scene they were crafting.

Nolan had been explicit – this was a dream where the sun must rain. The crew had meticulously planned for this, marking the sun's trajectory and hanging baffles between buildings to create the perfect interplay of light and shadow.

Mene, behind the wheel of the taxi, set off to pick up Cillian Murphy. Martin, in his Cadillac, made his way to Ellen Page.

The highlight of the scene approached – a dream train, an impossible intruder, burst onto the street, scattering the neatly parked vehicles into disarray.

The once orderly street transformed into a maelstrom of chaos. The soundscape was a cacophony of engines, screeching brakes, and the squeal of tires.

Martin, ensconced in the Cadillac, began shooting a flurry of short, intense scenes. Nolan, ever the perfectionist, called "cut" frequently, shaping the narrative in real-time.

Yet, throughout this, Martin remained in the car, his interactions largely limited to dialogues with Ellen Page, their chemistry a crucial element of the scene.

Outside, the artificial rain continued its relentless pour, a constant companion to the day's shoot.

Emma Thomas, the producer, dispatched her assistant Amanda to accompany Maria. Clad in a practical raincoat, Maria moved among the crew, a DV camera in hand, capturing the behind-the-scenes magic. These were more than just recordings; they were tangible proof of her involvement in a significant project.

Amanda's voice cut through the noise. "Next up, the shootout and car crash scenes. Let's keep to a safe distance."

Maria nodded, understanding the gravity of the scenes ahead. Together, they retreated to the safety of the elevated steps, ready to witness the next act of cinematic alchemy.

Amanda gestured towards the bustling set with a hint of excitement. "Check this out, Malia. Martin's gearing up for the gunfight scene."

Malia's eyes lit up as she quickly raised the DV camera, its lens zooming in on the unfolding drama. Martin, with a pistol in hand, was deep in discussion with Nolan. Around them, a group of actors converged, skillfully rehearsing their choreographed movements alongside Martin, their synchrony a dance of impending action.

As the set buzzed with anticipation of the imminent shoot, Malia discreetly powered down her camera, capturing the final moments before the scene erupted into life.

Gunfire resonated across the set – a staccato symphony of 'ping, ping, ping', punctuating the charged atmosphere.

Between takes, Malia noticed Martin and Nolan deep in conversation. Their frequent discussions, filled with earnest exchanges, hinted at a collaborative spirit rare in the demanding world of film.

As the rain effect waned, signaling the need for a refill, the crew seized the opportunity for a brief respite.

Nolan approached Martin with an idea sparking in his eyes. "Martin, I've got a thought. Could you hear me out?"

Martin, surprised by Nolan's request for input, was all ears. "Of course, Nolan. What's on your mind?"

Nolan's gaze drifted towards City Hall, his mind whirring with possibilities. "What about involving the First Daughter in a cameo? Just a fleeting appearance in the backdrop would be a great touch."

Nolan, ever the opportunist, seized the chance for added publicity. "It's a perfect promotional angle," he mused.

Martin pondered for a moment before responding, "It's worth a shot. Let's talk to her directly."

Nolan quickly briefed Emma Thomas, who relayed the message to her assistant, Amanda.

Shortly thereafter, Amanda confirmed Malia's willingness to participate.

Nolan swiftly incorporated a new scene – simple yet effective – with Malia as a backdrop to Martin driving past in a Cadillac.

Malia sought a tangible experience, something that would attest to her presence and involvement in this significant venture. Her tutor, Michelle Obama, and even the White House had given their approval.

Nolan adjusted his afternoon shooting schedule to accommodate this addition.

As word spread about the shoot in downtown Los Angeles, a growing crowd of movie enthusiasts and paparazzi began to gather.

Assistant Anderson, observing Malia's makeup being done, jotted down in the behind-the-scenes notebook, "First Daughter Malia, a fervent admirer of Nolan, eagerly sought a role on the set, even if just in the background. Nolan, acknowledging her enthusiasm, crafted a scene especially for her."

Nolan, passing by, glanced at the notebook and nodded, pleased with the narrative being shaped.

Anderson, inspired by his boss's approval, scribbled another behind-the-scenes insight as Martin climbed into the red Cadillac. "Martin Davis was so captivated by Nolan's creative vision that he insisted on being the lead, despite initially being unaware of the film's specific themes and content."

Anderson knew his future was intertwined with Nolan's, and his notes reflected his admiration.

As the day waned, the cast and crew began to disperse. A professional cleaning crew meticulously documented and marked the positions of each prop and vehicle, preparing for a thorough clearing of the set.

In the midst of the orderly disbanding, Martin and Mene strolled towards their trailer, their day's work etched in the unfolding story of the film.

In the fading light of the day, against the backdrop of bustling film equipment and crew members scurrying about, Menet shared his plans with Martin. "Paris is our last filming location. I plan to stay there for a while post-production. But hey, if you need me back in L.A., just give me a shout, and I'll be on the next flight."

Martin, his gaze lingering on Mene, replied with a mix of humor and sincerity, "Focus on your craft. Aim for a Cannes award next year... or better yet, snag the Venice Golden Lion for Best Actor."

Mene grinned broadly, his teeth a stark contrast against his tanned face. "Of course, Isabelle must be first in line - Huppert's already bagged that award."

He then mentioned a recent call with Huppert. "I suggested she rally some actresses from the French film circle for a social gathering with our crew. Could be a fantastic opportunity."

Bruce sauntered over, joining the conversation with a playful remark. "Just make sure it's not all aunties in their forties and fifties, okay?"

Menet replied earnestly, "Huppert promised to invite the new wave of French talent. Think Audrey Tautou, who's teaming up with you, Martin, for Chanel No. 5, and the lead from 'Paris.'"

Martin, recalling the film, mused, "The Venus de Milo scene was classic. What about Eva Green?"

"It's likely," Menet confirmed. "Huppert has immense influence among French actresses."

Ellen Page hurried over, her curiosity piqued. "Martin, is it true you're in talks to be the face of Chanel No. 5?"

"We're still discussing it, but nothing's set in stone yet," Martin replied with clarity.

The news was a market tester, gauging reactions from sponsors and fans alike. So far, the feedback was promising, devoid of any unfounded criticism.

WMA was still gathering feedback, with formal talks expected by year's end at the earliest.

Ellen, visibly intrigued, commented, "It's a bold move for a man to endorse a women's fragrance. Kudos to Karl Lagerfeld and Chanel."

Martin chuckled. "It's an interesting challenge, for sure."

Ellen, showing camaraderie, fist-bumped Martin encouragingly. "Of all Hollywood's leading men, you and Leonardo are the best fits for this. Own that Chanel No. 5 vibe."

Martin returned the fist bump, appreciative. "Thanks for the boost."

Ellen then shared a past incident. "Back at Stella Cinemas in Morocco, Tom Hardy tried to intimidate me. But once you stood up for me, he never dared to mess with me again."

Menet, curious, inquired, "What happened?"

Ellen, more comfortable with Menet, shrugged off the unpleasant memory. "At Astra Cinemas, Hardy made a crude joke about a local woman applying for a job. The British crew either laughed or stayed quiet."

Menet frowned. "Some Brits really lack decorum."

Martin finally understood Ellen's earlier gesture of solidarity. Extending his hand, he welcomed her, "Ellen, you're officially part of our 'Inception' family."

Ellen shook his hand firmly. "Thanks for having my back."

Martin smiled, acknowledging her bravery. "You've chosen a tough path."

"I know, and I'm ready for the fallout," Ellen affirmed. "But I'm committed to this journey."

Martin nodded in support. "Good luck."

After a long day, the actors retreated to their trailers. As Martin finished up, Elizabeth arrived in a sleek Porsche, ready to whisk him away to dinner with Leah.

Menet, having gained valuable experience, bid farewell to the crew after filming his portion in Los Angeles. His brief but memorable stint on set had left an indelible mark.