"Mr. Kane, what are you...?"
"No, not him. This is just a cheap knockoff from the village. He is a replacement for one of my extras." James Ryers said loudly to everyone gathered around who were about to start addressing Simon as Mr. Kane again.
"Oh, I thought as much. Mr. Kane would never be caught dead in what this one has on."
"Or with a stupid bag like that. I mean, what cave did he crawl out from?"
"More importantly, what is he doing here? Director would be furious. This is a fifty-million-dollar worth of movie shooting and even a village bum gets to be on it now?"
"Ryers must be desperate. Still, even a homeless man here in the city would be better than a country bum, right?"
"Right. Ugh, did you perceive that smell? All these village people always have a smell about them."
As Simon followed Ryers towards the huge decorative tent where a lot of equipment was set up, he shrugged off what the people around were saying.
He reminded himself that he had a nonrefundable four hundred dollars in his pocket and a place to stay for the night.
By morning, he would be out of the place and would never even see these snobbish lots again.
So, they could raise their nose all they want because that makes no difference to him.
"Who is this, Ryers? Why does he look like...?"
"Like Mr. Kane?" He is not the one, sir. I am sorry, director. One of my extras bailed, and this man here would be his replacement."
A ruddy-faced man with greying, sandy hair, the director rubbed his hand over his goatee while giving Simon a once-over. "Hey you, wannabe Kane. Can you act for shit?"
"Never done it before, but I was told I wouldn't have to say much," Simon said with a confident shrug.
"Oh, my. There is that silly country drawl. Give him the role with the least to say, okay? I don't care if you have to switch him with other extras. I don't want a silly accent destroying this work for me. The Kanes are our biggest sponsors on this project and I will be damned if some hillbilly ruins it for me."
"Yes, sir. I will do that, sir. You have nothing to worry about, director." James Ryers quickly said with a fawning smile.
Then he gave Simon a You-better-not-ruin-this-for-me look.
"In fact, here. Show me something," the director said as he tossed a script to Simon.
"Now?" Simon blurted automatically as he caught the script before it smacked his face. When the director gave him a look, he looked back at the script and said, "I mean, what part?"
"I don't care. Just give me something and stop wasting my time," the director snapped as he waved those currently in front of the camera aside.
"Here goes nothing," Simon said as he headed towards the camera range.
Someone took his picture as he started.
*******
Simon woke up early to leave the set the following morning.
He couldn't believe he had been able to pull off the little role he was given.
Of course, the director had called his first attempt terrible and told him to ditch the country drawl as if it were a cloth he could just change, but he soon accepted the last attempt as passable.
Not that Simon cared.
He made money and got a free space to sleep after eating one of the finest meals he had ever had.
That was more than enough for Simon.
He was in a good mood as he came out of the building.
He could still see some of the crew working like they had never slept at all and James Ryers was nowhere to be found.
As he turned away from the building, he saw a black sports car parked a little bit away from the set.
A young man who looked like one of the action figures in the movies that damn Hans used to watch a lot leaned against the car.
He had on an expensive-looking grey overcoat, a black turtleneck shirt and jeans with white sneakers, and a black face cap pulled low with dark shades that covered his eyes.
Thinking he was probably one of those A-list actors who don't like people to know who they are, Simon began to walk past him with his thoughts on how to get a cab.
But then the man corked his thumb at him to come closer.
He was tempted to ignore the man, but then he gave in, with the thought that he might as well ask him how to get a cab from there, since he didn't see any around.
"Are you Jarvis?" the man asked without so much as moving his lightly moustached mouth.
Simon supposed Jarvis must be the Mr. Kane they had been saying he looked like so much.
Are all these people blind? He wondered as he said, "No, I am not, and I am getting tired of being asked."
He thought he heard the man scoff, but he wasn't so sure before the man asked again, "Are you here to look for your real parents with some hope of mooching off them?"
Simon's shock made him snap, "What? My real parents are dead, you..." He used hand gestures to encompass the man's whole getup and his car as he added, "I don't know what your deal is, but you can be assured that I am not whoever the hell you think I am, and before you know it, I will be out of your city."
Silence followed his statement as the man stood like he didn't hear him.
Simon couldn't see his face and he could only assume his hair was black because of the moustache, but then he could sense that the man was scrutinising him from behind his dark shades.
"Do you know how I can get a cab from here? I can't see any around."
Simon thought he heard him mutter, "I told him this couldn't be him."
Then, without answering Simon, he turned around, entered his car, and zoomed off.
"What the...?"
Simon looked back at the crew buzzing about and decided not to go back to disturb them with questions they might choose not to answer anyway.
So, he started walking down the road with the hope of finding a cab soon.
He wondered what his Ma was doing at that time and knew she would have started worrying about him.
He intended to make sure he got Mandy to see reason that day.
After all, he now has more than enough money for two transport fares. They could just go home together and Ma's heart could finally be at rest.
He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts as three exotic cars pulled up to his side and sharply dressed men in suits came out of the car and bowed to him.
Then one of them stepped forward and said it in a respectful tone.
"Mr. Kane, please come with us. Your parents are waiting to see you."
"This madness again?" Simon thought in exasperation.
"Look here; I am not your Mr. Kane. You people should open your eyes well before you go confronting people on the street. Now, please, excuse me."
Simon sidestepped the man and kept walking.
There would be no point in asking them about cabs, since they would keep spouting nonsense anyway.
"Young master, please, you have to come with us." Simon heard the man say behind him and he ignored him.
Why did nobody tell him that there were a lot of well-dressed lunatics in the city? He really needed to get Mandy as soon as possible and leave...
"Young master, please forgive me," he heard suddenly from behind him.
Before he could turn around, he felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck, and his vision greyed instantly.
"Oh, shit. They would harvest my organ after all," he thought deliriously before he blacked out.