And really, what had changed in his life since his success at the film festival? It seemed it happened yesterday: while they were screening his movie, he anxiously counted the number of spectators leaving the hall. He expected that half of the viewers in the theatre would walk out. But only four people did! Then he gave a short speech on the stage and answered questions from the audience. When they called his name on the list of winners, Roy was somehow not even surprised. Only after he received his prize and was in the car on the way home did he suddenly slow down and wipe the tears running down his cheeks.

The phone rang nonstop those days; he didn’t even want to check his voicemail and email because they were filled with so many congratulatory messages. On his Facebook and Twitter were endless congratulations from people he never knew. He was already prepared to wake up famous. But he’d not had any concrete offers or profitable contracts yet. A couple of times some small agencies had asked him to shoot 15-minute commercials, but they didn’t set aside the time or the money for it.

Despite a pack of glowing reviews, no one bought his film for distribution. The producer held meetings with distributors about the limited sale of the movie in the U.S. and Canada. It seemed there was going to be an invitation to a film festival in London. And that was all.

The film “The Wise Adult Children,” which had seemed to Roy a masterpiece during its filming, had by now faded and lost some of its prize-worthy golden sheen; it had gaping flaws. He saw it as an ordinary film that would soon be forgotten by those viewers who watched it. And it was already obvious that one successful debut wasn’t enough to become a star.

By the way, here’s an important question: What will his next film be about? What does he want to shoot? For a long time Roy nurtured the creative thought that he would shoot a film about suicidal teenagers. When he was studying at medical school, he read a lot about teenage suicide, trying to understand the roots of this terrible phenomenon. But until now he did nothing for this film; he didn’t even lift a finger. Right now, for him, Carmen was the only desirable subject to shoot.

“Look, two whores again return to that old geezer in room 218. Let’s zoom in,” Walter directed, pointing to one of the screens.