….
The script of [Spider-Man: Destiny Of Web] was finished, storyboarded, budgeted, printed the actor's versions and saved.
Right after the publishing of [Harry Potter] volume 3 was winding up, Regal had spent nearly every waking moment over the past month weaving together the story that would launch the cinematic universe of MDC.
A film that had to both honor legacy and break new ground.
…and finally distilled into a story Regal was proud of.
So… what came next?
The door creaked open with the kind of tension that never announced good news.
Footsteps echoed as two men entered…
The first was a legend.
The second was his Tolliver Lee.
Stan Lee scanned the room with a writer's eye before locking eyes on the man standing near the back wall.
"So." Stan said, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity. "This is the kid you have been telling me about?"
Before anyone else could speak, Tolliver answered for the room, the tone dry and unimpressed.
"No offence. But, he looks like a …kid." He eyed Andrew from head to toe. "Are we seriously putting the future of this franchise on a guy who could get carded buying soda?"
?!!Andrew stiffened instinctively, his breath hitching for half a second.
Tolliver wasn't done and kept going. "I mean, come on, you want Spider-Man, not some artsy barista from downtown L.A. I see ten guys like him every week, knocking on agency doors with headshots and a dream. Do you expect me to believe this one is different?"
"Enough." Stan cut in, firmly, his eyes hadn't left Andrew, like he was trying to read something deeper than appearance. "Let's hear what the kid's got."
Simon, standing nearby, leaned closer to Regal and muttered under his breath, "Aren't you going to step in to save your kid Regal?"
Regal didn't respond, he trusted Andrew.
…and he is aware that the moment Andrew slipped on the mask, stepped into that suit, stood in front of a camera, it would click.
All doubts, all mockery, all noise… gone, just like that.
Now, though, Andrew stood silently.
Just a shirt and jeans, normal as ever, while Stan and Tolliver circled him like scouts at an auction.
Not hostile, but not welcoming either.
Tolliver kept throwing out little remarks, nothing outright cruel, but sharp enough to cut if you weren't ready.
"This one's too quiet."
"...well, he seems tall enough."
"Still though, don't scream leading man to me."
They weren't insults, not exactly, more like probing jabs meant to see if Andrew would crack.
He didn't.
Regal glanced at Andrew once, the dude's jaw was locked, shoulders square, eyes didn't waver, not even a blink.
He could feel the room pressing in, but Andrew wasn't shrinking.
Because deep down, unconsciously he knew that this wasn't a zoo, it was the arena before the first round.
And Andrew Garfield was ready.
"Huh… don't you think you should maybe try helping your own buddy a little?"
Regal exhaled lightly, shaking his head.
"Nah… he is fine—"
But before he could finish, something shifted.
Something unexpected.
Andrew, who had been quiet this whole time, politely enduring the scrutiny, suddenly stiffened, as if someone had just smacked him in the back of the head.
In his mind, a voice echoed, loud, familiar and almost like thunder.
"What are you supposed to do when someone is trying to look down on you? Huh? You just let it pass? Make some arrogant statement you can't even back up? Or do you show them who the hell you are?"
It was the voice of his old acting coach, a relentless Ross with a cane and a temper.
These days, he haunted Andrew's dreams like a half-serious nightmare.
Andrew blinked, chest rising.
He didn't even think.
"I AM ANDREW GARFIELD." He suddenly declared, his voice slicing through the room louder than anyone expected. "IT'S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, SIR, AND I AM HERE FOR THE FIRST LOOK TEST."
Stan flinched slightly, even Lee's son paused mid-step, caught off guard by the sudden outburst.
Andrew's heart pounded as he pushed forward, his voice trembling slightly but never backing down.
"I WAS ASKED TO KEEP THE REST CONFIDENTIAL, AND I INTEND TO HONOR THAT, SO I APOLOGIZE IF I AM BEING VAGUE…"
He inhaled sharply, just for a second, the rush of adrenaline was burning away his restraint.
"I LOOK FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU, AFTER I PROVE MYSELF, THANK YOU… FOR THE OPPORTUNITY."
He stopped.
Chest rising, fingers clenched, that was it.
It wasn't a rehearsed speech nor was it elegant, but it was like a polite declaration…
'I am here to stay and will do so…'
Andrew wasn't thinking, he was doing.
And then…
That voice again, echoing in the back of his mind like a phantom drill sergeant.
"None of that crap, you don't puff your chest or throw around big words you can't back up, you just show up, and say you are here to stay, that's it. Leave the arrogant speeches to that one reckless brat who actually can afford to talk like that. Do not try to copy, he is an exception, you are not him, don't try to be."
The voice faded, and so did the fire in Andrew's limbs.
His shoulders fell.
And the silence that followed nearly crushed him.
The room was eerily still, so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat thudding behind his ribs.
Andrew's eyes flicked to Stan Lee, then to the younger Lee, then to Regal… still calm, unreadable.
A slow, creeping panic began to settle over him.
Oh god.
"I blew it."
That thought alone rang louder than anything he had just said.
His face flushed red, his fingers twitched as the weight of the moment came crashing down on him in full, all that noise, was it too much? Did he just blow his one chance?
He wanted to disappear into the floor.
But the silence didn't last much longer…
Andrew's lips parted, about to apologize, to somehow backpedal the storm he had just unleashed, a thwack landed hard against his back.
"Oof—!" He grunted, jolting forward from the sheer force of it, that wasn't a casual pat, it felt like someone tried to knock a cough out of him.
He turned his head, eyes wide.
Regal stood there, grinning, hands casually in his pockets.
"Damn, Andrew." Regal said, his tone light but proud. "When did you start pulling stunts like that? That was… dope I felt goosebumps, right, Mr. Lee? "
He glanced sideways at Stan, then nudged Andrew with his elbow. "You have been working with that old man too long, you are starting to pick up some of his habits. Hopefully not his temper, though."
Andrew blinked, still reeling, more from Regal's reaction than the slap.
Regal wasn't stepping in to shield him…
No, he was stepping in because what he just saw had genuinely impressed him.
When Andrew had introduced himself, loud, clear, and unshaken, it had sent something through Regal, a chill, that rare kind of shiver you get when someone means it.
Across the room, Stan Lee remained still, arms loosely crossed, but Tolliver? His posture had shifted - subtly, but noticeably.
That smug confidence from before… was now laced with something else.
Respect? Not yet, but intrigue, definitely.
He had expected the kid to snap under pressure, or worse, fold.
That's how these types always went, fresh-faced, wide-eyed, eager to please.
One sharp comment, and they would stutter their way back to irrelevance.
But this one… didn't just withstand the heat, he stood in it, met it and answered it - not with arrogance, or bravado, but with fire and restraint.
And that?
That wasn't common.
"…Maybe the kid is something after all." Lee's son thought, quietly.
Still, neither he nor Stan spoke, they didn't need to.
Andrew, slowly recovering from the wave of adrenaline and disbelief, finally let his shoulders settle.
He wasn't sure what had just happened… but one thing was certain:
He hadn't fucked up.
.
….
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
Author Note:
Visit Patreon to instantly access +1 chapter for free, available for Free Members as well.
For additional content please do support me and gain access to +12 more chapters.
--> p@treon.com/OrgoWriters