Aaron sat cross-legged on the edge of the now entirely broken stage, staring at what had once been a functional structure. Well, "functional" was a stretch. But it had stood tall at some point, which is more than he could say for most of his career ambitions.
Lina and the rest of the troupe were off in the distance, celebrating what they bizarrely considered a successful performance. Aaron's version of success involved fewer near-death experiences and collapsing structures, but hey, he wasn't one to get picky.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the debris. "This is what it's come to, huh? Saving a theater troupe in a parallel universe with nothing but sarcasm and blind luck. I'm basically a low-budget Tony Robbins… if Tony Robbins could barely keep a job and had a tendency to get hit by falling objects."
The fourth wall was thin today. Paper-thin. It always was when Aaron's brain started spiraling into that familiar cocktail of self-deprecation and existential dread.
"Y'know," he continued, as if there was an audience somewhere following his every move, "I wonder if Leonardo DiCaprio had days like this. I bet even he had moments where he was like, 'Man, what's the point of winning another Oscar? Maybe I should just quit and open a juice bar in Malibu.'"
He paused, letting the thought linger. "Actually, if I had Leo's money, I'd just retire on a yacht and laugh at plebs like me still trying to scrape by. That's the dream."
His musings were interrupted when Lina appeared by his side, dusting off her hands and giving him a playful nudge. "You okay there, Mr. Chaos? You look like you're contemplating the meaning of life."
Aaron gave her a deadpan look. "Nah. That ship sailed when I turned fifteen and realized the meaning of life is just trying not to be as miserable as the guy next to you. And failing."
Lina laughed, sitting down beside him, her legs dangling over the edge of the stage. "Come on, we didn't do that bad today."
Aaron raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Lina, the stage tried to kill us. Twice. And I think one of your actors actually tripped over his own feet during the climactic death scene. It was a beautiful metaphor for how my life usually goes."
Lina smirked. "Well, at least the audience loved it. Chaos seems to be your thing."
Aaron tilted his head. "Yeah, I've noticed. If Nostoria had a version of the Razzie Awards, I'd probably sweep every category."
Lina gave him a curious look. "What are the Razzie Awards?"
Aaron blinked. "Right. Parallel universe. No Hollywood. I forget sometimes that I'm literally the foreign guy around here. Let's just say it's an award you don't want. It's given to people who star in, like, terrible movies. You know, like… I dunno, something-something* Fast & Furious 15: Still Furious, Still Driving*. Or maybe Cats—no, wait, that's too mean. Even Nostoria doesn't deserve that reference."
Lina laughed again, shaking her head. "You're weird, Aaron."
Aaron smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, well. Better weird than dead."
He let the silence hang for a moment, staring out at the empty plaza. The remnants of the day's performance scattered around like discarded dreams. Discarded dreams, huh? That was the name of the game. He'd gotten used to it. It was almost poetic, really.
"Do you ever think," Aaron started, his voice low, "that maybe we're just doomed to keep failing at the stuff we actually care about?"
Lina looked at him, her eyes softening. "You don't seem like the kind of guy who cares about anything."
"Exactly," Aaron replied, his tone flat. "I've gotten pretty good at not caring. It's easier that way. Less… heartbreak. You try, you fail, you laugh it off, and you pretend none of it really mattered. But deep down… you know it did. Like, why else do people keep doing it?"
Lina was quiet for a moment before she responded. "Maybe because if they stopped trying, then they really would be failures."
Aaron chuckled, but it was hollow. "That's deep, Lina. Real deep. But let's not pretend like trying is some heroic thing. For most people, it's just stubbornness. Me? I'm just too lazy to stop failing."
Lina elbowed him. "Well, your laziness saved my life today."
He smiled at that, a genuine one this time. "Yeah, well. You were in the way of my dramatic exit. Had to pull you aside or I'd lose my audience."
Their conversation was cut short by the sound of someone approaching—a familiar, overly enthusiastic voice that grated on Aaron's nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
"Aaron, my boy!" Tobias called out, sweeping toward them in a dramatic flourish of robes that made him look like a D-list magician. "I must say, the reviews are in, and your performance was a resounding success! The people are buzzing!"
Aaron shot him a look that could only be described as "done." "Tobias, buddy, we almost died. Twice. Are you sure you're reading the right reviews? Or are you just interpreting screams of terror as 'buzz'?"
Tobias waved off the criticism with a laugh. "Oh, nonsense! A little danger adds spice to the performance. The audience loved the unpredictability! Why, you're practically Nostoria's first action star!"
Aaron rubbed his temples. "Action star. Right. Next thing you know, you'll be telling me I'm the Nostorian Tom Cruise. But with more death-defying stunts, because apparently dying is what gets people excited here."
Tobias leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Oh, speaking of stars, I've had an idea. You see, with your natural charisma and ability to survive certain doom, I think we should—how do they say it—capitalize on this momentum. Turn you into a true celebrity."
Aaron's face twisted in horror. "Whoa, whoa. Hold up. You want to turn me into some kind of… celebrity?"
"Exactly!" Tobias practically glowed with excitement. "A star! You have the makings of one. The people are fascinated by you. You could be Nostoria's first household name."
Aaron stood up, backing away from the idea as if it might physically attack him. "Yeah, no thanks. I'm not cut out for fame. I'd probably end up as one of those washed-up stars who shows up on reality shows about bad investments and tragic divorces. Like, I'd be Nostoria's version of—uh, I dunno—Charlie Sheen on a bad day. Minus the tiger blood."
Tobias blinked. "Who's Charlie Sheen?"
Aaron gave him a deadpan look. "Exactly."
Tobias wasn't deterred. He reached into his robes and pulled out a scroll, unfurling it with dramatic flair. "No, no. You're thinking too small, Aaron! With the right backing, we could make you the face of the new entertainment wave. I've already drawn up a list of ideas: sponsorships, shows, endorsements… oh, you could even launch your own line of… I don't know, clothing! Or maybe wigs! People love wigs!"
Aaron stared at him, dumbfounded. "Tobias, buddy, do I look like I need a wig?"
Tobias, clearly not catching the sarcasm, squinted at Aaron's hair. "Well, it's not the most… voluminous I've seen. But nothing a little magic can't fix!"
Lina covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. Aaron, on the other hand, had given up trying to salvage any dignity from this conversation.
"I'll tell you what, Tobias," Aaron said, crossing his arms. "How about we table the celebrity wig business until after I've survived my first week in Nostoria without something falling on my head? Deal?"
Tobias seemed to consider this for a moment before reluctantly nodding. "Alright, alright. We'll hold off. For now."
As Tobias wandered off, muttering about future plans and untapped potential, Aaron found himself alone with Lina again. The sun had nearly set, casting long shadows over the broken stage.
Lina leaned back, letting the cool evening breeze run through her hair. "You know, you might be cut out for this after all."
Aaron snorted. "Please. I'm about as cut out for stardom as Kanye West is for… you know what, I won't finish that sentence. Let's just say I'm good at blowing things up, not making things better."
Lina smirked. "You've got something, though. Whether you like it or not, people are paying attention."
Aaron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, they won't be paying attention when I screw up the next gig and take down an entire building. Nostoria's new tourist attraction: Aaron the Human Wrecking Ball."
Lina didn't say anything for a moment. She just watched him with that calm, thoughtful expression that made Aaron squirm in his seat. He didn't like being looked at like that. Like he was someone who mattered.
"You're not as bad as you think you are, Aaron," Lina said quietly.
Aaron blinked, caught off-guard by the sincerity in her voice. "I wouldn't bet on that."
She shrugged. "Well, I would. You saved me today, didn't you?"
He laughed, but there was no bite to it. "Barely. And only because I have this stupid luck thing."
"Maybe," Lina said with a soft smile. "Or maybe you just don't give yourself enough credit."
Aaron rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. Compliments always made him uncomfortable. Sarcasm? That was easy. Deflecting praise? Second nature. But actually accepting that he might have done something right? That was new territory. And Aaron wasn't sure he liked it.
"Well," he said, standing up and brushing off his pants. "If I'm going to accidentally become Nostoria's first celebrity, I might as well embrace it. But I draw the line at wigs."
Lina chuckled. "I'll make sure Tobias knows."
Aaron shot her a lopsided grin. "Thanks. I'd hate for my first endorsement deal to be for hair products I don't need."
As they started walking away from the stage, Aaron glanced over his shoulder one last time. Nostoria was a mess. He was a mess. But for the first time in a long time, he wasn't running away from the chaos. He was standing right in the middle of it.
And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly where he belonged.