As the dust settled from the collapse of the stage's roof, Aaron found himself staring up at the mess, silently contemplating how this was somehow still better than his old life. Sure, he had almost been crushed to death by a falling beam, but hey—at least he wasn't delivering pizzas anymore.
"Okay, okay…" He raised a hand, coughing as he wiped the dirt off his jacket. "So that didn't go as planned, but we're not dead! So… win?"
Lina, standing next to him, folded her arms, a mix of shock and amusement crossing her face. "You call this a win?"
"Yeah," Aaron replied with a half-grin, still breathless from narrowly avoiding the beam. "You've clearly never seen me in action. This is about as good as it gets on my luck scale."
The rest of the troupe, a gaggle of wide-eyed performers, stood a few feet away, still recovering from the chaos that had just erupted. One of them, a lanky kid with a voice that cracked with every syllable, raised a trembling hand.
"W-was that supposed to happen?"
Aaron turned to face him, his expression deadpan. "Does it look like that was supposed to happen? No. But you roll with it. That's what showbiz is all about. Adapt or die. Mostly die in my case, but still."
He clapped his hands, trying to regain some control over the situation. "Alright, listen up! We're not giving up just because the ceiling decided to betray us. It's just a minor setback. Like, you know, everything else in my life."
Lina snorted, trying—and failing—to suppress a smile. "You really know how to inspire confidence."
"Yeah, it's a gift," Aaron muttered sarcastically. "Okay, enough talking. Let's figure out how to fix this and make it even better. We don't have a lot of time before the audience shows up, and we're not giving them a half-baked performance just because a little debris got in our way."
One of the performers, a short woman with fiery red hair named Mira, spoke up from the back. "We don't even have the tools to fix the stage, let alone make it better. And if the roof's going to keep caving in, we might as well cancel the whole thing."
Aaron scratched the back of his neck, weighing his options. "Alright, fine. If we can't fix the stage the way it is, we'll have to change the performance."
"What do you mean 'change the performance'?" Lina asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean," Aaron said, gesturing dramatically, "we're going to use the wreckage. Make it part of the show. Turn it into something memorable. Think of it like… avant-garde theater. Something edgy and raw. People eat that stuff up."
The group exchanged glances, clearly confused.
Lina crossed her arms. "I'm not sure I'm following."
Aaron sighed. "Okay, look, I know this is weird. But we're going to make it work. The audience won't know this wasn't part of the plan. If anything, we can turn the chaos into a spectacle. It's what people pay for, right? To be entertained. And nothing's more entertaining than watching people try not to die under a collapsing roof."
The group seemed even more unsure now, but Lina, after a long pause, nodded slowly. "Alright. I don't know how this is going to work, but… I'm in."
Aaron gave her a look of mock surprise. "Wow, I wasn't expecting that. Usually, this is the part where people tell me to shut up and leave."
Lina smirked. "Maybe I'm just as crazy as you are."
The hours leading up to the performance were a blur of makeshift repairs and frantic improvisation. Aaron had rallied the troupe, somehow convincing them that turning the crumbling stage into part of the act was a brilliant idea. He wasn't even sure how he had convinced himself of that.
They repurposed the debris, creating props out of broken beams and incorporating the damaged ceiling into the backdrop. Aaron had also come up with a new idea for the performance itself. Instead of the stilted, lifeless play they had originally planned, he suggested they turn it into a sort of interactive experience—a disaster play, where the audience would feel like they were in the middle of the chaos.
"I can't believe we're actually doing this," Lina said as she adjusted her costume, a simple gown that now had a few strategically placed tears to match the 'disaster' theme.
Aaron stood nearby, directing a couple of performers as they moved the last piece of debris into place. "Trust me, Lina. This is either going to be a total trainwreck… or the most genius thing we've ever done."
"Those don't sound like very comforting options."
Aaron shrugged. "Welcome to my life."
As the sun began to set, the audience started to gather in front of the stage. It wasn't a huge crowd, but there were enough people to make Aaron's heart race. He'd been in front of people before, but never in a way that actually mattered. This was different. This wasn't just about making it through a shift or not getting fired. This was about proving he could actually pull something off.
Even if it was completely insane.
The show began with Aaron's new vision—a chaotic, immersive experience where the performers interacted with the crumbling stage, using the wreckage as part of the story. Lina, playing the lead, leaned into the role, her voice carrying through the open-air stage with a strength that even Aaron hadn't expected.
"This is the world we live in," Lina cried dramatically, standing amidst the debris. "A world that's falling apart! But we must rise above it, rebuild, and claim our destiny!"
The audience, initially confused, slowly began to lean in. It wasn't what they had expected, but something about the rawness of the performance was drawing them in. The fact that the roof still looked like it could collapse at any moment only added to the tension.
Aaron stood off to the side, watching in amazement. It was actually working. The troupe was pulling it off. They had taken the chaos and made it into something that felt… real.
But of course, it couldn't last.
Just as the performance reached its emotional climax, with Lina delivering a powerful monologue about hope and survival, Aaron felt a sudden shift in the air. He'd been around enough bad luck to know when something was about to go wrong. And right now, his bad luck radar was going off like crazy.
Before he could react, the entire left side of the stage gave a sickening creak. The wooden beams, already weakened from earlier, groaned under the pressure. The audience gasped as the structure began to tilt.
Aaron's heart leapt into his throat. Not again. Please, not again.
"Lina!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise. "Move!"
Lina, mid-sentence, barely had time to register the warning before the left side of the stage buckled. In a split second, Aaron was already moving, instincts kicking in. He dove forward, grabbing Lina's arm and pulling her out of the way just as the collapsing beams came crashing down.
The audience screamed, some leaping to their feet in shock. The performers scrambled, trying to keep the rest of the stage from collapsing entirely.
Aaron, lying on the ground with Lina on top of him, groaned. "Well… that could've gone worse."
Lina stared down at him, wide-eyed. "You… you saved me."
"Yeah, well," Aaron winced, feeling the bruise forming on his back. "Can't have the star of the show getting crushed, can we?"
Lina quickly scrambled off him, her face flushed from adrenaline. "That was… close."
"You think?" Aaron muttered, pulling himself to his feet and dusting off his clothes. The audience was still buzzing, some people whispering while others looked around as if expecting more chaos to unfold.
Before Aaron could say anything else, Tobias suddenly appeared from the wings, a grin plastered across his face.
"Marvelous!" Tobias cried, clapping his hands together. "Simply marvelous! You've done it, Aaron! The performance was riveting! The audience was on the edge of their seats!"
Aaron blinked, completely dumbfounded. "What? Did you see what just happened? The stage nearly killed us!"
Tobias waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, but that's what made it so thrilling! The unpredictability, the raw emotion! This is what entertainment is all about!"
Aaron stared at him, mouth agape. "You're insane. You realize that, right? This isn't how this is supposed to work!"
Tobias just laughed, clearly unfazed. "Nonsense! You've captured the hearts of the people, Aaron. The chaos only made them love it more. Look at them!" He gestured to the audience, who were now clapping and murmuring excitedly.
Aaron turned to face the crowd. To his disbelief, people were actually cheering. They were cheering. Somehow, the complete disaster that was this performance had… worked?
"Well," Aaron muttered under his breath. "I guess I'll take that as a win."
After the crowd had dispersed and the adrenaline had worn off, Aaron sat on the edge of the stage, staring out at the empty plaza. The performers were still buzzing with excitement, high-fiving each other and celebrating their unlikely success.
Lina sat down next to him, a tired smile on her face. "That was… something."
Aaron glanced at her. "Yeah. Something. Not sure what, but something."
She chuckled softly, leaning back on her hands. "You know, I didn't think it was possible, but you actually pulled it off. Chaos and all."
Aaron shrugged, his usual sarcasm creeping back in. "I told you. Luck might throw some curveballs, but it always comes through. Mostly."
Lina gave him a sidelong glance. "I'm not sure if it's luck or if you're just really good at adapting to disaster."
Aaron smirked. "Why not both?"
They sat in silence for a moment, the night air cool against their skin. Despite the insanity of the day, there was a strange sense of accomplishment hanging in the air. Aaron had always been the guy who messed things up, but here, in this strange world, he'd somehow managed to turn his bad luck into something… good.
"Well," Aaron said finally, standing up and stretching. "If today taught me anything, it's that this place is just as chaotic as I am. So maybe—just maybe—I actually belong here."
Lina smiled. "Looks like you've found your calling, then. The king of controlled chaos."
Aaron grinned. "I've been called worse."