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Chapter 19 — The First Scene
Lucas stepped into the studio, still balancing the weight of the box containing the infamous chair in his arms. Not literally, of course — Elric had made sure that the prized antique was whisked away to "a safe, dignified location" (which Lucas was ninety percent sure meant the older man's gaudy office). But the mental weight of it? Yeah, that was still there.
A few students were already inside, scattered like chess pieces before the start of a match. Lucas scanned for familiar faces but found none. Which was probably for the best — less chance of explaining why a twenty-year-old acting student had been dragged into a heated auction war over a piece of furniture.
Sebastian followed a few paces behind, arms folded loosely, surveying the room with the casual alertness of someone who could dismantle a crime syndicate and still make it home in time to prepare tea. His gaze flicked once, just briefly, toward the man standing by the whiteboard at the front of the room.
The "man" in question wore a charcoal vest over a pale grey shirt, tie perfectly straight, posture military-level precise. His hair was slicked back, not in a modern trendy way, but in the kind of way that told you not a single strand dared rebel. His eyes — a sharp hazel-green — scanned the room, weighing every single person like they were entries on a ledger.
Sebastian narrowed his own gaze slightly. Not suspicion exactly… but the man didn't quite match the easygoing chaos of the other acting instructors. Where they were loose, this one was… precise. Efficient. Methodical.
Lucas, blissfully unaware of the silent appraisal war happening, smiled brightly and walked up. "Hi! You must be the new acting teacher. I'm Lucas Cain."
The man's eyes settled on him for exactly one and a half seconds longer than they should have. "Lucas Cain," he repeated, voice calm, almost flat, like an analyst reading out a financial report. "Yes. I've heard of you."
Lucas blinked. "You have?"
A faint smile touched the man's lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Indeed. My name is Camille Leon." He let the syllables linger as though testing how they'd sound in a police file. "But most people simply call me Chameleon."
Lucas tilted his head. "Like… the lizard?"
"Precisely." There was no elaboration. Just that single word, clipped, deliberate.
Inwardly, Chameleon was already studying every microexpression, every shift in Lucas's posture. The way the boy carried himself — relaxed, almost careless — it was a performance in itself. If Lucas truly was Alexander Cain… then he had mastered the art of wearing a mask so convincingly it bordered on art.
Interesting, Chameleon thought. Either he has erased all traces of his former self, or he's playing a very long, very deliberate game.
Lucas, meanwhile, was thinking: Wow. This guy's committed to his stage name. Bet he's the type who does method acting for grocery shopping.
Sebastian's eyes flicked between them. Something about the way Chameleon's gaze lingered on Lucas didn't quite match how normal people looked at their students. Not hostile, not friendly… something else. But still, nothing alarming. Just… different.
"Please, take a seat," Chameleon said, motioning to the semicircle of chairs. Lucas obeyed without fuss, choosing one in the middle. Sebastian remained at the back of the room, arms folded, looking like he was deciding whether the acoustics were good enough to eavesdrop properly.
The class began simply enough. Chameleon introduced a warm-up exercise — "silent observation." Students paired off, one silently observing the other for a full minute, then describing their "character" based solely on body language.
Lucas paired with a short, excitable girl who looked like she lived on espresso. She studied him with almost comical intensity, then began listing things like, "You seem like you've seen a lot of bad things, but you hide it behind an easy smile," and "Your eyes say you've given orders before… big ones."
Lucas laughed awkwardly. "Or maybe I'm just good at pretending?"
Her brow furrowed. "No… it's not pretending. It's like you've been doing it your whole life."
Chameleon's ears, metaphorically speaking, perked up. Even amateurs can see the truth bleeding through the performance. Fascinating.
Sebastian, from the back, allowed himself a tiny smirk. Even this girl can see it. How long until Chameleon puts the pieces together?
The second half of class was scene work. Chameleon assigned Lucas a short monologue — a threatening speech from a crime boss in a noir play. Lucas, believing this was the perfect chance to impress his new teacher, decided to "go big or go home."
He stood center stage, shoulders squared, gaze steady, and delivered each line with the calm, controlled menace he'd once seen in a late-night gangster movie marathon. The room went quiet — not the usual quiet of polite listening, but the quiet of people holding their breath.
When Lucas finished, Chameleon clapped once, sharply. "Excellent control. You didn't just deliver the lines — you inhabited them."
Lucas grinned, proud of his "acting."
Chameleon, however, was convinced he had just witnessed Alexander Cain's old self bleeding through. The measured tone, the precise pauses, the way his gaze made even the girl in the front row look away — all hallmarks of a man who had commanded fear.
Sebastian… well, he was simply enjoying the fact that both men were feeding each other's misunderstandings like a carefully tended fire.
Class ended with polite farewells, though Chameleon's eyes followed Lucas until he was out the door.
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Outside, Sebastian fell into step beside Lucas. "How was the new teacher?"
Lucas grinned. "Really good. He's intense, but in that, you-know-he-knows-his-stuff way. What did you think?"
Sebastian's gaze flicked back toward the studio. "Different from the others. But perhaps… useful."
Lucas tilted his head. "Useful?"
Sebastian smiled faintly. "For honing your… roles."
Lucas took that at face value. "Right! Gotta learn from the best, right?"
Neither realized that Chameleon, still inside, was watching them leave through the blinds, already planning his next "test."
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