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Chapter 20 — Tests and Tangles
The next day, Lucas strolled into the studio with the kind of relaxed gait that suggested he'd had a decent breakfast and absolutely no idea he was under quiet surveillance by at least two people. One of them was Chameleon. The other was Sebastian, though Sebastian's "surveillance" looked more like a perfectly polite shadow.
Chameleon was already there, of course. The man had the air of someone who didn't just arrive early but arrived early on purpose to observe who else arrived early. He was at the whiteboard, writing something in an elegant, controlled hand: Character Immersion.
Sebastian's eyes caught the phrase. His mind didn't go to acting theory — it went to training drills, cover identities, operational blending. Still, the atmosphere wasn't threatening enough to warrant actual action. He simply kept his observations filed neatly in the back of his mind.
Lucas approached Chameleon with a casual wave. "Morning! So, what's on the menu today? More 'silent observation'? Because I've been practicing. I tried it on my neighbor's cat. He's plotting something."
For the briefest moment, Chameleon's perfectly neutral expression faltered — the tiniest flicker of confusion. "Your… neighbor's cat."
"Yeah," Lucas said earnestly. "If you look closely, his tail twitches when he's thinking evil thoughts."
Chameleon studied him, and in that moment, two completely different conclusions were drawn:
Lucas's conclusion: Chameleon thinks I'm hilarious.
Chameleon's conclusion: He is testing me with nonsense to see if I'll break composure. Classic Alexander.
"Interesting," Chameleon finally said, and Lucas felt a little glow of victory.
The warm-up exercise today was different. Chameleon handed each student a sealed envelope containing a short "scenario" they had to act out without speaking — the others would guess the context. Lucas's read:
You are a man waiting to meet someone dangerous. You must not let anyone see your fear.
He grinned. Oh, this is perfect.
Onstage, he leaned casually against a chair, drumming his fingers, occasionally glancing at an imaginary watch. His face stayed calm, but his eyes tracked invisible movements in the distance. Every so often, he shifted his weight, like someone making sure an exit was always within reach.
The room was quiet again — that heavy kind of quiet.
When he finished, the guesses came in:
"You're waiting for a hitman."
"You're a mob boss before a big deal."
"You're a spy meeting an informant."
Lucas laughed. "Wow, you guys really went for the dangerous ones. It was just 'meet someone dangerous.' Could've been a grumpy cat groomer, for all you know."
The class chuckled, but Chameleon did not.
In his mind: Flawless control under imaginary pressure. The precision of the glances. The readiness of the posture. This is not learned in a studio.
Sebastian, leaning against the wall at the back, caught Chameleon's gaze for a moment. No words, but a silent exchange:
Sebastian's look: I see you noticing.
Chameleon's look: I see you guarding.
The day's second exercise involved pairing up. Lucas ended up with Chameleon himself, which wasn't intimidating at all — at least to Lucas.
The premise: one actor must convince the other to give them something, without asking directly.
Lucas decided to go playful. "You know, Chameleon, I've been thinking. That pen you've got there… it's the perfect pen. Balanced. Sturdy. Almost like it could write contracts that change lives."
Chameleon arched a brow. "Indeed."
"And, hypothetically," Lucas continued, "if I had that pen, I could sign my name in ways that… open doors."
A pause.
In Lucas's head: Man, I'm killing this exercise. Subtle, charming, a little mysterious.
In Chameleon's head: Is he sending me a signal? The pen as a symbol — control of the signature, the deal. This is a probe. He wants to know if I'll yield.
Chameleon placed the pen on the table between them. Lucas beamed and picked it up, twirling it once before handing it back.
"Thanks, that was fun," he said brightly.
The rest of the class moved on, but Chameleon had just added another tick to his mental ledger.
When it was over, Lucas walked out with Sebastian in tow. "I like him," Lucas said. "He's intense, but it's like… precision-intense, not angry-intense."
Sebastian gave a noncommittal hum. "He is… unlike the others."
"Yeah! And you know what? I think I'm getting better at this acting thing. Even the dangerous scenarios feel natural now."
Sebastian's mouth twitched in a half-smile. "Yes… I noticed."
As they reached the car, neither of them saw Chameleon standing at the upstairs window, watching. In his mind, the game was already in motion — a long game, one of patience, tests, and careful observation.
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