Production day 1:
Alright, folks, buckle up! Music video shoot day one, and let me tell you, it was a rollercoaster ride from the get-go. First things first - outfit changes. I ditched media class halfway through to go get Maryam ready for the shoot i.e. her makeup and outfit.
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When have things ever gone our way?
The multimedia room was off limits so we begin with filming the title card clips. By the time we finished this epic saga (seriously, it could have been a silent film), we hit a snag. Turns out, the dance club wanted the room for practice. Thankfully Zahra wrote down a permission slip because I suck at writing and I got it signed. Maryam had to leave and there we were permission slip in hand, room secured and no actress.
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Stay tuned for Act II - The Haunting of the Empty Room, where we'll find out if we managed to capture anything usable (besides dust bunnies). Wish us luck!
Production day 2:
So, picture this: permission slip in hand, actress MIA (missing in action), and a desperate need for a filming location. Easy, right? Wronger than yesterday's outfit choices.
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Remember the whole multi-media room fiasco? Well, guess what? Your friendly neighborhood narrator (that's me) came prepared! I brought a projector, borrowed from a friend whose basement probably qualifies as a haunted house. Problem is, technology apparently has a mind of its own. We spent what felt like an eternity searching for a magical cable that would connect this dusty relic to the 21st century.
Let's just say, the search yielded about as much excitement as watching paint dry.
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Desperate times call for desperate measures, so we ended up in Room 7. Now, Room 7 isn't exactly on our "approved filming locations" list. Think more like "teachers-stare-at-you-with-judgement" territory. The whole shoot felt like we were being chased by the ghost of detention past. Plus, the projector in Room 7 looked like it belonged in a museum exhibit on the history of technology. But hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?
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Speaking of beggars, the school decided to throw a curveball our way. Remember that school event we vaguely planned our lives around? Turns out, they decided to play musical chairs with the schedule and bumped it up by two whole hours. Talk about a plot twist worthy of a telenovela.
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So, there we were, in a room we weren't supposed to be in, filming with a prehistoric projector, and constantly checking our watches like paranoid squirrels. Needless to say, we wrapped things up faster than you can say "detention."
Production day 3:
Alright, folks, buckle up because Act II was just the warm-up. Remember the whole "needing an actress" situation? Well, guess what? Turns out, my friends are apparently allergic to cameras. So, who ended up starring in our magnum opus? You guessed it - a brave soul from the male persuasion. Let's just say, explaining the concept of "hugging a television" to him was an experience in itself.
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Originally, the plan was to film this masterpiece at Zahra's place. Keyword: originally. Because of course, things wouldn't be "Mayhem" without a last-minute plot twist. Turns out, I became persona non grata at Zahra's for reasons that remain classified.
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So, here I am, stranded with a lovesick dude who is playing a girl, a half-broken TV, a wobbly table, and a chair that looks like it survived the apocalypse. But hey, the show must go on, right? That's when I called in the cavalry - my ever-reliable brother and two equally-enthusiastic cousins. We piled into the car, the TV precariously balanced in the trunk along with one of my cousins (don't ask), and set off on a glorious quest.
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Our mission? To find the perfect streetlamp. Not just any streetlamp, mind you. We needed one that looked like it was on the verge of kicking the bucket, but still miraculously managed to flicker to life. You know, for that extra touch of "existential dread under a dying light" kind of vibe.
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Now, picture this: it's 10 pm, a car full of teenagers with questionable decision-making skills, and a guy in the backseat cuddling a dusty television. Needless to say, we attracted a crowd. And by crowd, I mean a gaggle of confused pigeons and a grumpy old man who probably thought we were part of some bizarre cult ritual.
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To add to the ambiance, we decided to use our car headlights as an extra "prop." Because apparently, subtlety is a four-letter word lost on this crew. Let's just say, the whole scene looked like a low-budget horror movie meets a particularly awkward prom night.
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Did we manage to capture anything usable? Who knows! But hey, at least we have a story to tell (and probably some very concerned neighbors). Stay tuned for Act 4- The Editing Room of Doom, where we'll find out if we can salvage this mess into something resembling a music video. Wish us luck, because we're gonna need it!