….
"Huh? Stephen's not coming?" Regal asked, mildly surprised.
Samantha glanced at her phone. "Just got a text from his agent."
Regal just nodded. "Alright."
It must have been something serious - he had been firm about Stephen showing up tonight. They hadn't had a proper conversation in months.
Then Samantha cut to it. "Regal… why is Andrew here?"
A beat.
The name hovered uncomfortably in the air.
All eyes drifted, not to the ones talking, but to the young man slouched awkwardly at the far end of the couch.
That Andrew Garfield.
The younger one. Early twenties. Soft-featured but sharp-eyed.
The future Spider-Man - though none of them knew that part yet.
Andrew froze mid-sip, blinking once as if he had just realized the cameras were pointed at him.
His drink - something half sweet and deceptively strong - wobbled in his hand as he quickly set it down on the glass table before him.
"I… uh…" He started, glancing at Regal, then at Samantha, then at the others seated in the semicircle - Darren, Simon, and further off, Rock, lounging in that ever-unreadable way of his.
The problem was - Andrew genuinely didn't know why he was here too!
Of course, he had been invited by Regal. That part was clear. Or, more accurately, his uncle Zack had informed him with exactly zero room for negotiation.
"You will thank me later, kid. Now put on something decent. And shave."
But now, seated in this strangely intimate, strangely sharp room, that excitement had begun to curdle into regret.
All he had done so far was sip drinks offered without asking and try to keep up with Regal's smooth, confident pace as they exchanged pleasantries with industry strangers.
And somehow, every time someone new entered, another glass slid his way. He hadn't refused a single one.
Now, slightly flushed, slightly swimming, he was realizing that not protesting had been a strategic misstep.
He cleared his throat. "Uh… well… I was just invited, really. Thought maybe it was… a networking thing? Or… Meet a beautiful lady like you madam."
He trailed off, scratching his cheek awkwardly. His accent slipped a bit.
Samantha stared at him for a beat longer - calculating - but said nothing.
Rock finally spoke for the first time, without lifting his gaze.
"He is drunk."
Andrew turned red. "No, I—"
Simon spoke up with a lazy smirk, waving his hand in that half-dismissive, half-affectionate way only he could manage. "Hey, Sam, c'mon… You are scaring the kid."
But Darren…
Darren remained silent.
That was what made the room tilt a little sideways.
Because Darren - prickly, combative, always ready with some snide remark or smug correction, said absolutely nothing.
He just sat there. Arms crossed. Watching.
Andrew noticed.
Even if he didn't understand why, he noticed.
He still wasn't fully aware of what they all were - hell, it was his first time meeting most of them. But there were a few things he could read.
This isn't how usually this trio reacted.
Which, of course, was what made Andrew's skin crawl a little more.
Only four people in the room truly understood the weight behind Andrew Garfield's presence tonight.
Regal. Samantha. Simon. And Darren.
Andrew himself? He doesn't have a least idea.
The only part he knew - the only thing he could really cling to - was that about an hour ago, Regal had looked him in the eye and asked.
"Are you interested in acting?"
To which he had just nodded. Like an idiot. With a drink already in hand.
That was it.
What he didn't know?
Was the bomb Regal had dropped just before he arrived, when it was only the four of them.
In just two more years a $230 million film will be produced.
That the entire story, the cinematic flagship of a soon-to-rise titan called MDC - was quietly being rewritten to center around a young, untested lead.
This kid.
Andrew Garfield.
He didn't know that this wasn't a drink and laugh hangout.
This was the first step toward changing his entire life.
And then… Regal turned.
Still calm and gracious.
Almost bored, even.
"...Guess it's time to say it." He murmured.
Samantha tilted her head, scrutinizing - her instincts were sharp and already expecting something unexpected from her boss.
Darren's eye brow was raised ever so slightly.
Then Regal said it. "So Andrew… let's make a movie together. You will be the lead, and I will be the director."
Silence.
Samantha opened her mouth. "Think before you—"
But she was cut off by the sound of a light tap.
Andrew was already extending his hand.
Only… it wasn't for a handshake.
He was offering a fist bump.
Yep.
Totally drunk.
Regal paused.
And then… chuckled. Just a soft, breathy sound to himself. Maybe I should have waited until he was a little more conscious of his decision, he thought.
But still, without hesitation, he balled his hand and returned the gesture. Fist bump was sealed.
Andrew grinned, wide-eyed and loose. "I am happy."
Then a blink. A pause. And—
"But I don't know acting?"
He said it earnestly. Like someone remembering mid-flight that they never learned how to pilot a plane.
There was a beat of silence…
"Haaahhhaahh…" - then Simon burst into laughter.
It echoed off the glass walls like an old sitcom laugh track.
Meanwhile, Samantha and Darren exchanged a moment of pure, subtle dread.
Because this - this - was not how things were supposed to be done. [Harry Potter] was one thing. That franchise already had a fan base. It already had trust.
But MarverlD Comics?
It is in its downfall phase.
And when Regal laid out his plan to start the pre-production plan of the MDC movie, they thought it was a tactical move to avoid any mistakes.
However they were shocked, when he said he simply wants to finalize that actor and to train him for the role.
And the movie is - something… called - [Spider-Man].
Furthermore, he already decided who he wishes to be the lead.
This kid?
Andrew Garfield. Wishlist, he is an aspiring voice actor.
Right. Not even an aspiring actor.
….and Regal wants to build a film around him?
Despite Regal's previous reckless decision, this one definitely topped the list.
And yet Regal sat there - utterly serene - like he had just solved the final piece of a puzzle that only he had been working on.
"Don't worry about that." He said, eyes still on Andrew. "I will find you a really good teacher."
That made all three - Samantha, Darren, and even Simon - go still.
They shared a look.
Because that line?
That wasn't discussed.
That was new.
Which meant Regal had planned something again.
Without telling them.
Which, of course, meant… he was doing something again.
And that was never good.
Meanwhile, Rock - tucked away in the corner - was already half-asleep. Or maybe just pretending.
He had stopped listening somewhere around the second fist bump.
Andrew, meanwhile, was still grinning faintly, his buzz balancing between warm enthusiasm and creeping uncertainty. He blinked at the trio and asked, voice slightly slurred but sincere:
"Wait… maybe I shouldn't have accepted it?"
But no one answered.
Not because they were ignoring him.
But because they couldn't.
Knowing Regal, they were aware that the door had closed.
Even if Andrew backed out, Regal would somehow get him to do his gig for sure.
And the young man, completely unaware of having signed himself with a simple fist-bumped in his half-drunk and half-aware state.
Then Regal stood.
Like he had just heard someone he had been expecting for hours.
"Well, look who finally showed up." He said, brushing invisible lint from his cuff as his gaze turned across the room.
All heads followed.
At first, the figure was too distant to make out clearly. Just a silhouette near the entrance. A slow stride. Unhurried.
But then—
Simon squinted, then let out a low chuckle. "Oh, Mr. Ross… I knew you invited him, but didn't think he would actually show."
Immediately, a recognition dawned on Samantha and Darren.
Their postures had gone rigid. But Darren was the first to break.
He turned to Regal, his voice rising with disbelief. "No. No, no - it's not what I am thinking, right? Regal? Tell me it's not that."
Samantha followed quickly, almost stumbling over her words. "Regal. He is not going to agree. So don't even try it - don't bring it up. Just… don't."
Regal rolled his eyes, feigning offense. "Why are you so worried? I am not that stupid."
There was a long pause.
Shoulders eased - barely.
And then Regal added, with that familiar glint of chaos masked as charm. "Besides… I have a plan."
Darren sighed deeply. A defeated kind of sigh.
While Samantha didn't bother responding. She was already halfway to the exit. "Alright. You talk to him. I am going to greet the other guests before this entire night collapses into a crater."
"Huh? What's going on here?" Simon asked, still lost, lazily swirling his drink.
Darren shook his head, half-exasperated, half-expecting this. "How can you be this tactless right now?"
Meanwhile, Andrew was still in his seat, blinking at the man now approaching them. His vision was just blurry enough to flatten the figure's sharpness into something mythic.
He leaned toward Simon and whispered, not quietly. "Wait. Is that him? Ross Okaly? The guy who is always pissed? The one who doesn't listen to anyone and just does what he wants? I heard - like - he fired a huge exec a few weeks ago just because the guy talked over him in a meeting."
Every word.
Every syllable.
Like a series of nuclear detonations going off in slow motion.
And the worst part?
He wasn't even whispering.
Ross had heard everything.
He was standing right there now, barely two feet away. Arms loose at his sides. Face still. Not a twitch. Not a blink. Not even a flicker of amusement or offense.
Just… silence.
Samantha and Darren, midway through their exit, froze. The exact moment Andrew started talking.
Now they stood frozen in the open. Like statues halfway between safety and doom.
Simon lunged, tried to clap a hand over Andrew's mouth like it was still salvageable - but it was far too late.
They all had one hope left.
The only man who might be able to diffuse this ticking social warhead: Regal.
They turned toward him, eyes pleading.
And what did Regal do?
He stared at Andrew.
Mouth slightly open.
Eyebrows lifted in something dangerously close to genuine disbelief.
For once, even he hadn't seen this one coming.
He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling. "Andrew… that's some first impression to make on the man who might've been your teacher."
And just like that—
Everyone got it.
Yep.
This was not part of the plan.
But to everyone's shock, Ross didn't lash out. He didn't even flinch. He just walked over and took a seat.
"You are getting bolder with each passing day." He said dryly. "Inviting me to a place like this again?"
"Welcome, Ross." Regal smiled, pouring him a drink. "At least take a sip first."
Without asking, he topped off Andrew's glass too - who, in his blurry state, still seemed to think this was just a casual hangout.
Ross didn't waste time. "Why am I here?"
"To drink with us. Celebrate our success." Regal replied smoothly, as the rest meekly returned to their seats, all thoughts of escape gone - doing so now would only look rude.
Except Andrew, who was still sipping, grinning like it was karaoke night.
That is when it hit Simon.
His eyes widened in terror, locking onto Regal.
No. No way. You are not actually doing this... right?
Regal's returning smile said everything.
Yep. I absolutely am.
Simon slumped in his chair, visibly defeated.
Finally, Regal turned to Ross. "I have a request."
Ross gave a flat look. "What?"
"Teach this dude to act."
There was a beat.
"What?" Ross blinked, baffled. "Who the hell is this little squirt?"
Andrew sat up, loudly. "I am an aspiring voice actor! And a future lead in Regal's film! And I am not a squirt!"
Regal chuckled. "He is drunk. Please excuse him."
Ross scoffed. "Teach you? I should punch you for even showing me that face."
"I need him." Regal said, tone calm but unwavering.
"No."
"Ross."
"I said no. Not interested."
Ross leaned back, arms crossed. "And why me, huh? You have got a dozen other options. Hell, send him to acting school."
Regal didn't flinch. "Because you are the best actor I know."
He said it without hesitation, like it was fact - not flattery.
"I want him to learn from the best."
That gave Ross pause. A blink. A faint twitch in the corner of his mouth, like he wasn't sure if he was about to be insulted or complimented.
"You…" He said slowly, eyes narrowing. "You have really turned into a sweet talker since your last film."
Still stone-faced.
But Regal could tell - he was listening.
"Just give him a shot." Regal said, voice steady. "If you don't like him, teach him for one day and walk away. That's all I am asking."
"You really trust that drunk brat?"
"I am trusting you, elder."
And then - like a wind-up toy hitting its final spring - Andrew lurched to his feet. "For the last time! I am not a brat, not a squirt either! I am ANDREW GARFIELD! Just teach me already, old man - why are you so damn stubborn?!"
He pointed with one hand, glass still in the other.
And then… promptly collapsed back into the seat like someone had pulled his batteries out.
Silence dropped over the room like a guillotine.
Regal's face paled.
Samantha stopped mid-step.
Simon winced.
And somewhere in the quiet… came a soft, sharp grinding.
The unmistakable sound of clenched teeth being crushed together with fury.
Ross's fury. "If I teach this brat." He said, voice low and dangerous. "I do it my way. No questions asked?"
Regal nodded. Not a beat missed.
Then, from the table where Andrew now lay slumped over like a half-dead octopus, came a faint murmur. "…I am n-not… a brat…"
And just like that, somehow - against all odds - Regal had done the impossible.
He had convinced the most stubborn man in Hollywood to take a student again.
Sure, it hadn't gone according to plan.
But the results?
That's what counted.
Right?
.
….
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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