Chapter 11: "An Old Friend's Audition"
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Lucas Cain tapped the edge of the taxi window, watching raindrops race each other down the glass. He'd barely finished his evening rehearsal—another doomed tragedy about a cursed violin—and now he was racing across town for what Sebastian had called "a special performance opportunity through Stellar Arts Agency."
Sebastian's voice crackled in Lucas's pocket speaker earlier:
Sebastian: "Mr. Cain, please present yourself as 'Alexander' to Mr. Vance. He's eager to see your range."
"Alexander?" Lucas had blinked. "I am Alexander for this audition? Got it." He'd shrugged, assuming this was some avant-garde roleplay workshop.
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Outside Vance Enterprises' 'Studio'
It is to be noted that elric is the biggest loan shark in the country. He has nearly on fifth of the east in his debt. And now he is just a clean business man to the world. He has recently just started a new entertainment company. Which according to records. Is hiring.
Or it could just be a cover. Who knows?
The building loomed: modern glass façade, neon "STELLAR ARTS" sign flickering. Lucas sidestepped a puddle, squared his shoulders, and inhaled.
> Act like a returning crime lord, he coached himself.
Brooding, powerful, aloof…
Rain dripped off his hair as he stepped inside. A receptionist in sleek black nodded him through. "Mr. Alexander Cain to see Mr. Vance?" she asked.
Lucas offered his best serious look—a half-smile missing. "Yes. Thank you."
He wandered down a corridor lined with headshots of glamorous "talent" before pausing outside a frosted-glass door labelled ELRIC VANCE, EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR. He straightened his coat, then rapped lightly and pushed inside.
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Elric's Penthouse Office
Elric Vance's workspace felt like a shrine: low lighting, scattered debt-ledgers framed on the walls, and a single mahogany desk. Behind it sat Elric—now wearing a silk smoking jacket rather than his usual tailored suit. His eyes sparkled as Lucas entered.
"Alexander Cain," Elric breathed, rising to greet him. He offered a firm handshake. "Welcome back."
Lucas blinked. "Back? You'd think it's a reunion, not an audition."
Elric's smile deepened. "Exactly. I need to see the real you—fresh from the shadows."
Lucas winced inwardly. Shadows? "I... just got drenched in rain." He cleared his throat. "Um, scene one. Let me begin."
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Lucas Performs—Crime Lord Edition
Lucas stepped to the center of the carpeted room, adopting his best criminal-boss posture—chin tilted down, eyes sweeping over an imaginary crew.
> Lucas (deep voice):
"You think this city runs itself? You think your petty schemes matter when I turn my gaze upon you? You're only dust beneath my boots."
He flailed one arm dramatically, nearly knocking over a bonsai. Inside his head, he narrated: Okay, brooding. Pause. Intimidate. Accent on the 'I'. Then exit stage left.
Elric watched, breathless. The corners of his mouth twitched into a hopeful grin. This is him—the king reborn, Elric thought. He's channeling the old rage, but there's warmth, too, as though he's letting bygones be bygones.
Lucas continued:
> "Your debts are forgiven only if you kneel and see the mercy in my smile. Defy me… and you'll be erased. Does anyone here doubt me?"
He peaked a nervous glance toward Elric, who sat riveted, eyes shining.
> Elric: "No… I–I believe."
Lucas, confused, bowed awkwardly. "Thanks… I guess? That was scene one. Scene two—mercy." He dropped one knee and stretched out his hand. "Rise, underling. The future is ours."
When he stood, Elric had leapt to his feet, clapping slowly. "Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. You're not just acting—you're living it!"
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Elric's Misinterpretation
While Lucas wiped his brow ("Is it hot in here?"), Elric approached, clasping his hands together.
> Elric: "You've returned to me, brother. After all these years. You remember our pact—justice for the oppressed. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth."
Lucas's eyes widened. "Pact? Oppressed? I thought this was a creative workshop."
Elric's voice dropped to a hush. "No games. When you spoke of mercy… I knew. This isn't a script—it's your direction to rebuild."
Lucas swallowed. "Uh… okay. But actually, I have a chemistry exam next week—"
Elric waved a hand. "Details matter little. The circle stirs; the underworld trembles. I've already issued the order: locate old contacts, clear the board, prepare 'Erase Past.'"
Lucas gave a small, innocent chuckle. "Erase… past? That's not in the script?"
Elric's jaw tightened. "It was your line last night. 'Let the past be dust.' You must lead us."
> Lucas's Trait had kicked in: Elric's mind overlaid Lucas with Alexander's legend, so he "knew" the words were commands, not lines.
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Lucas Realizes Something's Off
Lucas sank onto a velvet chaise, running a hand through his hair. "Sebastian's probably wondering why I never showed up for dinner. I, uh, didn't bring my wallet." He patted his pockets.
Elric's face morphed into paternal concern. "Allow me," he said, digging into his desk drawer and producing a sleek card labeled "Underworld Expenditures." "For… operational necessities."
Lucas accepted it, bemused. "Thanks. But it's just pizza on me next time, okay?"
Elric glanced down at the card as though it burned him. "Pizza…" he whispered, as if tasting a strange memory.
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A Misunderstood Exit
Finally, Lucas rose. "Well, Alexander, I—er—thank you for your time. You've been a… fantastic director." He offered a stiff bow.
Elric returned it with fervor. "Return to me when the council convenes. The hour grows late."
Lucas stumbled out, still clutching the card. As he exited, two suited men slipped in—Elric's lieutenants—ready to scour Lucas's phone for "orders."
Lucas paused in the corridor. Orders? "Great audition," he murmured to himself. "Maybe I'll do Shakespeare next."
He stepped into the lobby—bright, mundane, dripping with rainwater footprints—and hailed a taxi, oblivious to the heartbeats he left echoing behind him.
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Aftermath: Elric's Devotion Renewed
Back in the office, Elric placed the "Underworld Expenditures" card on his desk like a holy relic.
> Elric (softly): "Alexander… you truly are reborn. We shall wipe the slate clean. For you, for the world."
He saluted the empty chair.
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End of Chapter 11