….
"I understand completely." Henry stood, offering his hand again. "Thank you for this chance. You won't regret it."
After he departed, Darren exhaled slowly.
"The physicality is perfect, sure." He said. "But did you see the emotional control he had? When he started talking like he was trying to save—"
He kept going, dissecting the performance with growing excitement.
Regal didn't speak. He simply gave him that look, the one that said I told you so without a single word.
Darren eventually caught himself mid-sentence.
"Fine. You are clearly leaning toward him." His expression shifted. "But what about Pixy's request? You are not just going to ignore it, are you?"
He meant Liam Bethell, the youngest Bethell brother.
A few days ago, Elijah Bethell, president of Pixy Studios, had sent a personal request for Liam to get a 'special audition'. The talks went nowhere, but the industry chatter didn't stop. People thought there was a chance, despite the well-known tension between Regal and Pixy.
After all, Elijah had the build. He had played the Black Ranger in Power Rangers. On paper, some thought it made sense.
Regal leaned back.
"I am not ignoring it." He said calmly. "If he were the person I am looking for, I might have cast him."
Darren snorted. "Yeah. You and I both know you would never do that."
….
The auditions had wrapped for the day.
The building had gone quiet, the kind of quiet that felt staged - because Regal was alone only in appearance.
Right outside his office door stood four people.
No - five now, because someone had just hurried up to join them.
Stephen Hawking Jr., grandson of Stephen Hawking Sr., eased into the makeshift cluster. He looked confused, anxious, and entirely out of place.
The original four were Samantha, Simon, Darren, and Rock.
Rock stood planted directly in front of the door, one palm raised in a silent command not to approach, his expression set in that stone-faced neutrality he was famous for.
Not that anyone seemed intent on going inside.
In fact, the opposite.
Simon and Stephen Hawking Jr. were already leaning subtly - terribly subtly - against the door, ears angled, straining to catch anything from the conversation that was about to happen.
They looked like two schoolboys caught in a conspiracy - Simon tense, Stephen Jr. on the verge of spiraling.
Behind them, Samantha and Darren hovered with an attempt at professionalism. They were curious, very curious, but at least they pretended otherwise.
Simon whispered, barely audible. "Is he seriously calling him right now?"
Stephen Jr.'s whisper was even shakier. "Why am I even here? I am not supposed to be here… Why am I here?!"
"Because you sprinted here like a panicked intern after getting your ears on the news from Simon." Samantha murmured, arms crossed.
"I did not sprint." Stephen Jr. hissed back, which only made Simon glance at him like, you absolutely did.
Darren leaned forward. "Quiet. Quiet, the call is connecting any second now."
Of all of them, Simon and Stephen Jr. were the ones visibly losing it, especially Stephen Jr., who truly had no business being part of any of this.
Inside the room, Regal drew a slow breath.
A sheen of sweat clung to his skin.
He hadn't been this nervous when he walked onstage for the Oscars. Not when cameras flashed, not when he waited for the envelope to open. Convincing Stephen Hawking Sr., however… that was a different kind of pressure.
He had declared confidently he would do it. Now he wasn't so sure.
And yes - he was painfully aware of the group pressed up against the door, thinking they were being subtle. Their shadows alone gave them away.
Enough. No more hesitation. He connected the call.
It rang only twice.
"Hello." Regal said.
["Hoo, I see who it is.] Stephen Hawking Sr. replied. ["Guess, the new sun is shining brightly today more than ever."
Regal never understood why the man called him the new sun. And right now was not the moment to ask.
Simon whispered. "New sun? What the hell kind of nickname is that?"
Stephen Jr.'s eyes widened. "He calls him the new sun? He never calls me anything cool."
"Shhh." Darren whispered harshly. "Let them talk."
"How is your health, sir?"
["I am as great as ever. And you?"]
"I am good."
Silence settled for a breath.
"Sir…." Regal began. "I have a character in my film that needs an actor like you. So—"
Crack.
He froze. Something had broken. Wood? A chair?
"Are you alright, sir?" His voice sharpened, concern flashing across his face.
A brief pause. Then Hawking Sr. spoke.
["Yes, I am alright. As for the character - if it's you asking, it must be something worth hearing. I will make some time and meet you."]
….
Outside the door:
Samantha mouthed, Oh my god.
Darren sighed, clearly seeing Regal keeping his word. "He actually said yes…"
Stephen Jr. whispered. "What does that mean? What does 'make time' mean? Is that good? Should I celebrate? Should I panic?"
Simon whispered back. "It means he is coming here, you idiot! Don't scream."
Rock finally turned his head about an inch. "If any of you make a sound, I will carry you out of the building myself."
All four froze instantly.
Inside, Regal exhaled softly. "Of course, sir. Whenever you are free."
On the other end of the line, Stephen Hawking Sr. sat on a wooden chair.
His expression remained unreadable. But his eyes - his eyes burned with a heat that was not youth but something older and fiercer, like the final blaze of a dying star.
["Whenever I am free…."] he repeated softly, ending the call.
He lowered the phone onto the table.
Then he lifted his left hand from the armrest of his chair.
The wooden handle crumbled, the crack echoing faintly.
"Guess I got a little too excited for a second." he muttered.
It had broken the moment Regal said 'act again'. The sheer surge of excitement had done it.
"Well… at least I wasn't shown the door."
It was indeed an expected result.
Despite not having a valid reason, Regal was confident in getting Stephen. Sr, to the very least the former titan of the industry would hear him out before delivering a verdict.
He knows he has that much comfort.
However…
Will he accept though?
The doubt was a cold stone in his stomach.
By the calculations of screen time, the role was surely a small one - a handful of scenes.
Will that be enough?
Enough to lure a legend back to the silver screen? Enough to mark his return?
He doubts that. But instinct 0 the same instinct that brought Regal this far - screamed a different truth.
He needed him for this role. Not just any actor, but him.
Picture it–
Superman is a being of infinite power. A literal god walking among mortals.
And Jonathan Kent?
He is the mortal with the aura to look that god in the eye and teach him how to be human.
Regal leaned back, closing his eyes, letting the darkness of the room become a canvas.
He didn't need a celebrity for Jonathan Kent. He didn't need a 'name.' He needed an earthquake wrapped in a flannel shirt.
The actor playing Dad Kent couldn't just deliver lines–
He had to command the very oxygen in the frame.
He needed a presence so heavy, so undeniable, that when he stood on a porch in Kansas, he felt larger than the alien hovering above him.
That was the crux of it. That was the magic trick.
"It has to be Stephen." Regal whispered to the empty air.
Because when Superman lands - when the cape settles and the dust clears - the audience sees a savior.
They see invincibility. They see the sky.
But for the audience to believe that this god would pause, would listen, and would humble himself? The man standing opposite him must possess an aura that rivals the sun.
He needed a voice that sounded like ancient roots breaking through bedrock. A gaze that didn't just see Clark Kent, but peered straight into the soul of Kal-El and held it steady.
If Stephen Sr. took the role, it wouldn't just be a father talking to a son.
It would be a meeting of two forces of nature.
Regal imagined the scene:
The silence of the farm, the wind in the wheat, and Stephen Sr., standing there with the weight of a lifetime etched into his features.
He wouldn't need to shout.
He wouldn't need to posture.
He would just need to be.
Any lesser actor would be swallowed whole by the spectacle of Superman. They would look like a prop.
But Stephen? Stephen would make Superman look like a child seeking guidance.
His presence definitely elevates the whole experience of the film.
Yet, the transaction is terrifyingly one-sided.
What could this film offer Stephen?
Fame? He is already woven into the history of cinema.
Money? He already has plenty.
Regal had no answers.
He opened his eyes, the determination hardening into cold resolve.
"If he says 'no'-
"...then I might have to tone down the character a bit, as I literally wrote it imagining him in each scene."
….
Unconcerned to Regal's deep contemplation, the hallway was still buzzing in a hushed, frantic way.
Simon whispered. "I am telling you, that was a yes. A yes-yes."
Stephen Hawking Jr. shook his head violently. "No, no, no - 'make time' could mean anything. It could mean the old man is too busy. It could mean he is being polite. He could be lying! People lie on calls!"
Darren was already preparing himself mentally. "He agreed to meet. That's as close to a yes as you get from a man who retired ten years ago."
Samantha added. "It was a yes. Please calm down before you faint."
Stephen Jr. almost grabbed her shoulders. "Why are you so calm?! That's my grandfather!"
Simon snorted. "Yeah, but somehow we are the ones panicking."
Rock stood silent as ever, the immovable guardian, but even he sighed under his breath. "All of you. Stop talking."
They did not stop talking.
"Look, I am saying—"
"No, listen—"
"That tone meant—"
"It didn't mean—"
Then the door cracked open.
Every voice died instantly.
Regal stood in the doorway with a perfectly flat, deadpan expression, eyes sweeping over the five frozen figures like they were children caught stealing cookies.
"You people…" He said, voice as dry as dust. "-sure don't have the guts to stand beside me when I am making the call… but you have plenty when it comes to causing noise outside my door."
Simon straightened immediately. "We—we weren't causing noise. We were… monitoring hallway security."
Stephen Jr. rapidly nodded. "Yes! Yes, exactly! I was helping with… uh, emotional support security."
Samantha stepped forward, professionalism flickering back. "We were simply making sure no one disturbed you."
Darren raised a finger. "To be fair, we did not disturb him. We stayed outside. Technically."
Regal blinked once. Slowly.
Rock didn't move at all, but he spoke. "I tried to stop them."
Simon pointed at him instantly. "He did! He absolutely did."
Stephen Jr. added. "Yes, he blocked the door like a mountain."
Darren sighed. "We were just curious, okay? This is Stephen Hawking Sr. we are talking about."
Regal stared at all of them for three long seconds, expression unreadable.
Then—
He exhaled.
"Fine. Since all of you already know - yes. He agreed to meet."
Then he added. "Now get in here. We have work to do before he arrives."
The five exchanged quick glances - fear, excitement, panic, all mixed - and then hurried into the room.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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