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Chapter 21 – An Unscripted Scene (Apparently)
The cool breeze of late afternoon carried the smells of the city—fried street food, exhaust, and the faint tang of rain on stone. Lucas stretched his arms as he stepped out of the academy gates, feeling the stiff ache in his shoulders from hours of awkward stage posture. He'd been rehearsing a "silent intensity" scene for almost an hour, and judging by the director's baffled expression, he had either nailed it or committed some kind of art crime.
Sebastian's car, as always, was waiting right by the curb—sleek, polished, and radiating the kind of quiet intimidation that made pedestrians give it space. Sebastian himself stood by the driver's side, gloved hands neatly folded behind his back. Lucas had once asked him if the gloves were for fashion or function. Sebastian had simply replied, "Both," in a tone that somehow made it sound like state secrets were involved.
"Sir," Sebastian said with that faint, knowing bow, "I took the liberty of scouting the quieter streets for our route back. I assumed you'd prefer… fewer eyes."
Lucas chuckled. "You make it sound like we're escaping paparazzi."
Sebastian didn't answer—just opened the door with his usual precision. Inside the car, Lucas leaned back into the soft leather and sighed. "Man… acting is exhausting. People think it's all fun and games, but it's mentally draining, y'know? You have to become the character."
From the driver's seat, Sebastian's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror for a fraction of a second. "Yes… I've noticed you've taken to that role quite naturally, sir."
Lucas grinned, oblivious to the weight in Sebastian's tone. "Guess so! Anyway, where to? Home, I guess?"
"Of course," Sebastian replied smoothly. But the route he took veered slightly off the usual path. Lucas noticed, but assumed Sebastian had just found another shortcut.
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The car slowed at a street corner near an outdoor café—one of those trendy places with minimalist décor and prices that charged extra for the air. Lucas was about to ask why they stopped when Sebastian glanced toward the café terrace.
"That man has been… present more often than coincidence allows," Sebastian murmured, just loud enough for Lucas to hear.
Lucas followed his gaze. At a corner table sat Chameleon—the new acting teacher, though Lucas still had trouble remembering his actual name. The man was drinking something from a tiny porcelain cup, posture impeccable, expression unreadable.
"Oh hey, it's the new guy from class!" Lucas said brightly. "Small world."
Sebastian's brow twitched. "Indeed."
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From Chameleon's point of view, this was not small world—it was calculated orbit. He'd known Lucas's schedule down to the minute, adjusting his own casual "errands" to ensure this encounter appeared perfectly organic. The moment Lucas's gaze met his, Chameleon's lips curled into the faintest, most controlled of smiles.
The prey had walked into the trap. Or, in his mind, the friend had finally decided to acknowledge the unspoken connection they shared.
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Lucas stepped out of the car before Sebastian could stop him. "Hey, I'm gonna go say hi. Networking, y'know?"
Sebastian followed at a measured pace, hands in pockets, scanning the street without looking like he was scanning the street.
Chameleon rose from his chair as Lucas approached. "Mr. Cain," he greeted in that smooth, level voice that somehow sounded both polite and like it was evaluating you. "What a coincidence."
"Right? I didn't know you hung around here." Lucas smiled. "Guess even acting teachers need coffee."
Chameleon's eyes flickered briefly to Sebastian, then back to Lucas. "Occasionally. Though today I suspected I might see you."
Lucas laughed. "What, do I have a predictable aura?"
"You could say that," Chameleon replied, though in his head he was thinking: Predictable patterns are the result of careful study, not chance.
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They sat. Sebastian remained standing a step behind Lucas's chair, like a living shadow. Lucas waved for a menu, but Chameleon gestured for the waiter instead, ordering for both of them without asking—some obscure blend Lucas had never heard of.
Lucas didn't mind; it felt oddly like being in a scene from a spy film. "So," he said between sips of the too-bitter coffee, "how are you liking the academy so far? The students aren't too crazy for you, are they?"
"On the contrary," Chameleon said. "Some stand out more than others."
Lucas chuckled. "Bet you mean the loud ones. There's this guy in class who always tries to improvise Shakespeare into modern rap—"
"I was referring to you, Mr. Cain."
Lucas blinked. "Me? Uh… thanks?"
Sebastian's gaze sharpened slightly, his instincts prickling. Chameleon wasn't wrong in singling Lucas out, but his interest seemed… too focused. Still, it was only a faint anomaly—Sebastian kept his silence.
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From Chameleon's mind, Lucas's humble reaction only reinforced his headcanon: here was Mr. Nobody himself, hiding in plain sight, pretending not to grasp the extent of his influence. The restraint was masterful. The way he downplayed compliments—pure psychological misdirection.
This was a man who could command a room without raising his voice, who could dismantle an empire with a word. And here he was, sipping overpriced coffee as though the weight of the underworld didn't balance neatly on his shoulders.
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They talked for another half hour—about acting techniques from Lucas's perspective, about "stage presence" from Chameleon's, and about coffee brewing methods from Sebastian's suspiciously detailed interjections.
At one point, Lucas leaned forward and said, "Y'know, you've got this really intense vibe, Chameleon-sensei. Like… if you played a villain, people would love to hate you."
Chameleon's lips twitched upward. "Perhaps. Or perhaps they would simply… obey."
Lucas grinned, thinking it was an acting joke. "Haha, that's the spirit!"
Sebastian, meanwhile, made a mental note to run a background check—not because Chameleon was overtly dangerous, but because he was… different.
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When they parted ways, Lucas walked back to the car with a smile. "That guy's cool. A little intense, but cool."
"Yes," Sebastian said slowly, "cool."
From the café terrace, Chameleon watched them leave, his mind already working on the next "coincidental" meeting.
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Back in the car, Lucas scrolled through his messages—his sister asking if he'd be home for dinner, his younger brother sending him a video of a cat falling into a laundry basket. Normal life stuff.
Sebastian, driving in silence, caught Lucas's reflection in the rearview mirror. To the world, this young man was many things—an actor, a student, a brother. To a select few, he was something much more. Whether he knew it or not, the legend of Mr. Nobody had started breathing again.
Lucas leaned back and closed his eyes. "I feel like today was… productive."
Sebastian's mouth curved into the faintest smile. "Indeed, sir. Quite… productive."
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