At some point, all the days seemed to merge into one, long sigh of exhaustion and summer was merely a dream, a nostalgia that Lucas Moon couldn't quite remember, but could never forget. It may have been the summer of 2024, but Lucas lived in fragments of the summer of 2015, when the sci-fi drama film that he played the lead role in, 'The Passenger', was released.
From when words could barely form, there Lucas was, acting out plays and improvisations for his crowd at the orphanage, where he was one of the only ones who never wavered in his belief that dreams could come true. And perhaps, by taking the stage and taking others with him to act out the supporting roles, he had not only borrowed their bodies and words but hearts, too. In the cold, blue rooms of the orphanage, were hundreds of shining stars exuding happiness, escaping to the stories they were sharing, and amongst those stars burned a single sun.
They all told him it was impossible, that to be a successful actor he needed wealth and connections. They never told Lucas that he needed good looks though, as anyone could tell he wasn't lacking there at all. No, not with his wispy, long jet-black hair that glimmered almost violet in the moonlight; not with his round dark eyes, that looked so innocent at first glance, but for any longer they seemed so devoid of any life that they pulled you right in, like a black hole, as you would blindly wander through their darkness only to find out that you've been trapped in them. Looking into those stone eyes that sat in harmony with his beige, slightly tanned skin was like being trapped, in the best way. And it sure did translate well on-screen.
Growing up with nothing but acting, Lucas couldn't accept failure as an option. From as young as eight years old, he would audition repeatedly for anything he could - advertisements, school plays, neighbourhood plays, low-budget TV shows, and eventually films. And sure enough, his enchanting looks and undeniable talent landed him a lead role in a film that was being produced by an illustrious director, and everyone working on it was sure it would gain some traction once it was released. They couldn't have been more wrong.
To say the film exploded in popularity was an understatement, it was more fitting to say Lucas had struck gold with this film, as it became an instant classic. His charm and allure captured the hearts of millions, and from there he was propelled into almost immediate stardom. That summer was the one where he went from living in a cold orphanage, where many of his friends had left already, to being signed to a contract agency, and never looking back onto his small town. He did movies, shows, interviews, advertisements, and anywhere he went, success followed, mocking his old life and all that he used to know.
Perhaps the summer of 2015 was the last time Lucas was truly happy. He believed he was the happiest when he was eight, putting on one-man shows for his friends at the orphanage, with brooms and chairs and pillows for props, but immense passion to make up for all else. He loved acting, because it allowed him to be free, to become someone else; to share the joy of escapism with all the other abandoned children, and for that short time when he was a pirate chasing down evil fairies; when he was a prince fighting his ten brothers for the throne; when he was a spy on a top-secret mission, for that short time, he was free.
Nearing the end of 2017, Lucas Moon had already begun to feel it. A chilly autumn had dragged on and a scathing winter lurked around the corner.
"Here's the schedule for this month." His manager tossed him a folder, thicker than it should be, and Lucas's face grew dim as he flicked through the endless papers.
"You can't be serious? This is impossible and you know it damn well," He clicked his tongue in annoyance and tossed the papers onto the table.
"You'd better put that attitude back where it came from, kid." His manager, Renold, was a tall, scrawny man, with small square glasses with a thick rim that he believed would hide his genetically aquired eyebags, but to no avail. His voice was deep and cold, like a frozen lake at night. He wore a smile like a mask, taking it off only when he was alone and needed to breathe - aswell as when he was with Bruce.
Bruce was Lucas' publicist, who wasn't as outwardly cynical as Renold but shared the same pessimistic personality and agreed with him on everything. Perhaps that was why they got along so well.
Renold had scouted Lucas when he was unknown and guided him through the intense industry, getting him major roles, and controlling the schedule of his life. If there was a free hour in the day, Renold would be sure to fill it in with an interview, a guest appearance on a talk show, anything to fill his pockets till they weighed his skinny figure down.
"Nobody here has time for your tantrums! The interview begins in less than an hour. It's a high-profile magazine - I won't have you mess everything up for everyone! Get to it -"
Bruce signalled for Renold to stop with his hand, and walked forward.
He paused and examined Lucas's twitching eyebrows, observing the fumes flying out from his ears. He sighed,
"Look, son. We're all the same. Once upon a time, we were begging for scraps, trying to- to catch any job that would have us," he waved his hand in a vague, circular motion, his other hand gripping Lucas's shoulder, "But we worked good and hard and now they don't look down on us lot anymore. They can't. Me mum back in Scotland is only living comfortably because of me hard work here. Because of yer schedule. Don't let yourself fail at this point, lad." His tone was soft and slow, but ribboned with a sort of sinister sternness that intimated Lucas.
When Lucas was first stepping foot into the industry, Renold's callousness was masked but quickly began to seep through his verbal attacks and inhumane working conditions. Bruce was always more down-to-earth, he wasn't wealthy or snobby like Renold, and so young Lucas found he was easier to talk to. In the cut-throat, brutal industry, he used to feel like his only friend was his publicist, and Renold's best friend, Bruce.
Perhaps they even developed a sort of father-son bond, like when Lucas first got rejected at an audition.
He was only eight, and had never not had shining eyes beaming at him. He stared in disbelief at the casting director who pierced words into his heart,
"Sorry kid, you're just not what we're looking for."
His heart shattered, and he ran out of the audition room with a thumping chest and hot tears. Running in a blur, he bumped into a taller man, and looked up to see Renold, his arms crossed and an icy gaze further freezing his young heart. Lucas could feel the words written in Renold's gaze,
"You weren't good enough. You blew it."
In the car driving back to the orphanage, Lucas noticed a plump stranger in the front seat. Because of this, he swayed his dark hair infront of his misty eyes and tried his best to conceal the tears that might accidently leak if he wasn't careful.
Noticing the strange behaviour, the man craned his neck around, and smiled,
"Hey, kid. I heard from Renold that 'yer an actor. A good one, too".
Lucas didn't move.
"I saw yer audition an' I just thought you should know... you were amazin'. A real star, I can tell you know. You've got something special kid, and you're gonna be one of the wealthiest actors once you hit the big screen! I can feel it!"
Lucas looked up with sparkly eyes.
He wasn't sure if this man meant he could feel the wealth coming, or if he could feel Lucas was going to be an amazing actor on the big screen. Either way, here was an adult that didn't outright scrutinise or look down on him, and so he asked,
"Do you want to be my friend? My friends are allowed to see my epic performances."
The man let out a stale chuckle.
"Sure kid. The name's Bruce."