Felix Ardano couldn't stop thinking about Ethan Blackwood.
As he sat in the editing tent, reviewing the footage from the impromptu take, he leaned back with his hands steepled under his chin. The raw footage was rough around the edges, but there was something about Ethan's delivery. A texture. Felix had initially pegged him as just another pretty face among the extras—good jawline, decent body proportions, nothing behind the eyes. But that improvised moment with Cole? That had life in it. Vulnerability. Presence.
He's raw, Felix thought. Rough, undisciplined. But there's something there.
He chuckled under his breath and sipped his coffee. "Turns out he's not just a vase."
Meanwhile, Ethan was buzzing.
He left the set with a weird, jittery energy crawling up his spine. Adrenaline was still pulsing in his fingertips as he cradled the tiny envelope they'd handed him: his first real acting paycheck. One hundred dollars. Barely enough to cover groceries, but right now it felt like the down payment to his future.
He had done something. He had been seen.
His fingers itched. He wanted to do something. Audition again. Rehearse. Try.
"You're glowing," the System chirped. "Someone's drunk on attention. Cute."
Ethan smirked. "I'm allowed to be happy, you know."
"Happy? That wasn't acting out there. That was divine chaos. You got lucky."
"Call it what you want. I felt something."
"Was it talent? I don't recognize it, but I'm glad you're having fun."
Before Ethan could clap back, someone approached him from behind.
"Hey."
Ethan turned.
Cole Vance.
Up close, Cole looked effortlessly disheveled—hood up, smile crooked, the kind of charisma that didn't need polish. He was carrying a coffee and a half-eaten apple, like he was living between scenes.
"That was good back there," Cole said casually. "You stayed in it. Didn't flinch. Not many do."
Ethan blinked. "Thanks. I... just followed your lead."
"Nah," Cole said, taking another bite. "You weren't copying. You were reacting. That's what makes it real." He tossed the apple core in a nearby bin. "You got good instincts. Keep it sharp."
It was casual. Off-hand. But it meant the world.
For the first time, someone in the industry—someone who mattered—was offering him real advice. Ethan nodded, his throat tightening. "Thanks. I will."
Cole gave him a quick salute and walked off.
Behind them, Lila watched from the edge of the lot.
She'd seen it all. And she hated it.
Cole had always grated on her nerves—too loose, too wild, too favored. And now that Ethan, the human placeholder she'd written off, was being noticed? Praised? It was laughable. Insulting.
She clenched her jaw, turned on her heel, and whispered to herself, "Just finish this film. One last indie. Then it's on to real movies. With real actors."
Ethan stepped into his apartment later that evening, peeled off his shoes, and dropped the envelope on the table. He sat at his old, creaky desk and opened his laptop.
Casting websites. Forums. Open call databases. He hadn't felt this energized since his first year in L.A.—before rejection had numbed him.
As he was typing in his zip code, the System pinged again.
{ New Mission Issued }
Mission: Receive an Invitation to an Audition Within One Week (No self-application allowed)
Reward: Stage Presence (Intermediate)
Penalty: Permanent Loss of Memorable Presence
Ethan froze. "Permanent loss? What does that even mean?"
"You'll be forgettable," the System said, matter-of-fact. "No one will remember your face. Your aura. Like a shadow that never sticks. Tragic, really."
"That's... that's huge! How can that even be allowed?!"
"Don't like the terms? Walk away. The world's full of blurry actors with no presence. You'll blend right in."
He was about to shout when his phone rang.
Felix Ardano.
Ethan's heart stopped. He picked up.
"Ethan. Hey. Felix here. Listen, I was reviewing the tapes from today—you've got something. Raw, but something. Listen, my friend's directing his first feature, an indie script but with studio backing. Name's Vincent Lasker. Used to be an actor himself, real range—did some big studio work back in the day. He's looking for fresh faces."
{ Mission Complete: Receive an Invitation to Audition }
Reward Unlocked: Stage Presence (Intermediate)
A subtle warmth filled Ethan's chest as the System hummed in his mind.
"Well, well, look at you, golden retriever of destiny. Someone actually invited you. Who knew miracles still existed?"
But Ethan barely heard it. His focus was on the name Felix just dropped.
"Wait... Vincent Lasker?" Ethan's voice cracked.
"Yeah. You've heard of him?"
"Of course I've heard of him," Ethan said, almost breathless. "Everyone who watches movies knows Vincent Lasker. He was in Lines in the Dust, The Sapphire Fault, even that Bloodwire franchise movie—he played the corrupt senator. He's not just some actor. He knows the industry."
Felix chuckled. "Exactly. He wants someone who can deliver something fresh. I think you've got the bones of that. The audition's tomorrow. I'm sending the script over now."
Ethan heard the ping of the email arriving.
"It's a supporting role," Felix continued. "A good one. Has emotional range. Dialogue. You'd have to dig in deep. But if you nail it? It could be your first real step."
"Thank you," Ethan said, barely above a whisper.
"Don't thank me yet," Felix said. "Just show them what you showed me. Make it yours."
The call ended.
Ethan opened the script. Thirty-four pages. The character had a name, a backstory, interactions across multiple scenes. He had never auditioned for anything this substantial.
Before the rush of panic could settle in, the System pinged again.
{ New Mission Assigned }
Mission: Secure the Role
Reward: Script Retention (Level 1)
Penalty: Perception Debuff (Blurred Script Comprehension)
Ethan leaned back in his chair, eyes wide.
He was in it now.
No turning back.
The stage was calling.