….
Samantha, Simon, and Darren sat across from Regal in his office.
The room was quiet - at first.
Then Regal cleared his throat, held up the script like it was about to change their lives, and said. "Okay, so the next scene on…"
He was giving out his first ever narration in his life.
...or more like a full fledged one.
He explained scene's before but never a full length one.
So it was kind of a new experience to him too.
…and he was enjoying it too.
Of course his delivery wasn't polished, his acting even less so, but that didn't matter.
He was committed.
He gave each line life with over-the-top gestures, wild voices, and bizarrely perfect timing.
The scene?
"A group of friends wakes up after a wild bachelor party in Las Vegas. The hotel room trashed. Like - real bad. There's a chicken walking around. One guy's missing a tooth. And there's a tiger. In the bathroom."
"And no one remembers a damn thing." Regal went on. "The groom? Gone. Nowhere to be found. And one of them finds a baby. A baby. In the closet."
"A baby?" Darren repeated.
"Yup." Regal said, flipping a page. "And they are just… rolling with it. Like, 'Okay. We will figure this out later. Where is Doug?' That's the groom."
And Regal was acting it all out.
Somehow, watching him perform made the absurdity ten times funnier.
Samantha tried to stay composed. She really did. But even she had to bite her lip every few minutes to stop herself from cracking. Darren chuckled steadily, leaning back like a man who had given up trying to resist.
Simon? He was in shambles.
"So they go looking," Regal continued, already acting out the scene. "And suddenly they're in a stolen police car, crashing it on the strip, getting tased by actual cops during a school demo—"
Simon snorted. Loud.
"And Alan - he's the wildcard - dead serious, just goes, 'I think I roofied myself.'"
That did it.
Simon let out a wheeze and bent over, laughing so hard he nearly slid off the couch.
"I can't." He gasped. "I can't already."
Regal kept going, barely hiding his grin.
Simon thought of walking off to take a moment to breathe in.
But he couldn't.
Every instinct told him to crawl out of the room for air, but the story was too damn good to leave.
As ridiculous as it was, it had him hooked.
It wasn't just funny - it was unpredictable.
Every time he thought he had it figured out, it zigged when it should've zagged.
It played with tropes and twisted expectations until nothing made sense anymore, and somehow, that made perfect sense.
Simon loved that.
Let the audience think they know what's coming.
Let them try to guess.
But then flip it.
Not in a cruel way, not in a way that leaves them feeling cheated, but in a way that makes them laugh even harder at how wrong they were.
That, he realized, was the genius of the script. That was the real magic of this absurd, off-the-rails ride Regal had titled The Hangover.
Simon was still wheezing when Regal reached the next scene.
"Then they find out one of them got married to a stripper. Like full-on marriage. There's wedding photos. A ring. The whole thing."
"Please tell me they at least liked her." Samantha said, trying not to laugh.
"Oh, she is cool. But the guy's a dentist, and he is losing it. Meanwhile, Alan's just... vibing with the baby like he is its dad now."
Simon was gone. He slid off the couch and hit the floor.
He tried to speak but failed. He just pointed at Regal with one shaking hand, wheezing like a man on life support.
"You okay down there?" Regal asked, raising a brow.
"I… I am gonna die." Simon gasped. "You mad bastard. STOP—haaaa—STOP already!"
Regal grinned and held up the last page like a cliffhanger.
"Oh, buddy. I haven't even gotten to the rooftop yet."
Simon curled up like he was bracing for impact.
….
When Regal finally dropped the last line of the script, his voice rasped just slightly, and he let the final silence stretch. He glanced up.
They were dead.
Not literally - but close.
Simon was sprawled sideways on the floor, one hand over his eyes like he had just run a marathon blindfolded.
Darren sat hunched forward, elbows on knees, breathing like he had just done a full cardio session.
Samantha leaned back, eyes half-closed, strands of hair clinging to her temples despite the perfectly controlled AC.
Three hours.
That's how long he had been performing.
Standing, gesturing, shouting, whispering - acting every character like he was possessed. Three hours with nothing but a few sips of water between them.
And yet, Regal knew - he felt more energized than any of them.
They, on the other hand, looked like they had been hit by a bus full of punchlines and emotional damage.
Simon wiped his face, blinking up at the ceiling like he needed divine help. "Dude." he said. Just that.
Regal cracked a tired smile. "So… how was it?"
There was a moment of silence, just one, but it carried weight.
Then Samantha straightened a little, rubbing her forehead.
"I don't know how to explain it." She said slowly. "I came in thinking this was gonna be some slapstick chaos. You know? Dumb guys, crazy Vegas stuff. But then… somewhere along the line…"
"...it hit you." Darren finished for her, voice lower now. "Yeah. Same."
"It hurts." Simon groaned from the floor, then added. "Physically. I am in pain. My face hurts, my stomach's wrecked - what the hell, man."
Regal laughed softly. "That bad?"
"No." Simon said, finally sitting up with effort, eyes glassy from both tears and total depletion. "That's good. I mean - honestly, what comedy does this? What movie makes you wheeze and cry in the same breath?"
He looked up at Regal now, suddenly serious.
"It's not just funny. It matters. These guys - their friendship, how screwed up and real it is, how they fight and panic and somehow still hold it together, it means something. And that ending?" He pointed at the script like it had personally betrayed him. "That rooftop scene? You sneak an emotional hook in at the last second like a damn magician."
Samantha nodded slowly. "It got me too. Like… really got me."
Darren gave a small chuckle. "It's the kind of thing you don't see coming in a movie like this. And because of that, it lands. You don't expect heart in a story that starts with a tiger in the bathroom."
Simon leaned forward now, locking eyes with Regal. "I am calling it. This is gonna be your best movie. Better than [Following]. Better than [Death Note]."
Regal raised a brow at that, half-amused, half-curious.
"You think so?"
"I know so…" Simon said without hesitation tapping his chest. "Those were sharp, no doubt. Clever, tight, perfectly crafted. But this?" He tapped his chest with two fingers. "This one's got something else. It breathes. It's messy, it's wild, it's stupid in the smartest way - and then it hits you right in the gut when you least expect it."
Samantha didn't argue.
Neither did Darren.
None of them did.
They were too tired to lie - and too moved to downplay it.
In that air-conditioned room, sweating like they had just been through the desert, the three of them sat in silence once more. But this time, it wasn't from shock or exhaustion.
Regal finally exhaled and let his shoulders drop. "Alright," he said with a tired smile. "Thanks for the feedback, guys. Really."
They each gave a nod, some a pat on the shoulder, some a look that said you've got something here, and filed out one by one, the door clicking shut behind them.
Regal sat there for a moment, alone with the script and the scattered sticky notes covering the wall behind him. A chaotic mess of ideas, arcs, punchlines, callbacks - his brain made visible.
He stood, walked over to the couch, and collapsed onto it like every muscle in his body finally gave up at once.
Reaching for a bottle of water nearby, he took a few sips, then let it rest on the floor.
He leaned back. Closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
When he opened them again, he was still staring up - but not at the ceiling.
Or at least, that's what anyone else would've thought.
But to him?
He was looking at something else entirely.
A system panel. Floating silently in front of him.
….
[New Skill Detected…]
[The user has performed a task for an extended time period.]
[Skill Gained: Actor – Beginner Level]
[All slots are currently filled.]
[Would the user like to swap this skill with one of the eligible existing skills?]
….
Regal blinked once.
Of course.
It was the same format as before.
The same protocol that triggered when he grinded endlessly with a camera until he earned that directing skill.
That had taken him an entire day and half.
Photos. Footage. Edits.
He had practically lived behind a lens.
And this?
Three hours.
Three hours of acting out a movie he didn't even plan on performing.
Not seriously, anyway.
He scoffed, running a hand down his face. "You are hinting at something, bud?"
The system didn't answer.
Like always.
"Some friend you are." He muttered. "What, you want me to act now? Really?"
No response.
Just that screen. Just that choice.
He leaned back again, staring at it in silence.
.
….
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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