“Zeno’s really cool. You did a great job casting him, Devon.”
“Thank you,” Devon muttered, scratching the back of his neck. It had been a while since he felt this much happiness while watching someone act. After letting go of his dancing career and transitioning to screenwriting and directing, he had thought he could no longer feel the same fire and zeal.
Yet, a single actor managed to elicit that feeling from him again!
“Devon’s been doing a great job since the first season,” another staff member said.
Devon’s cheeks reddened, feeling bashful about the praise.
“Yeah, even more so than—”
“You guys are having a nice conversation.”
They fell silent when Victor PD emerged from behind them. He was on his fourth can of coffee, and his hands were trembling. Whether it was from caffeine overload or simply from anger, he couldn’t quite tell. Maybe both.
No—it was definitely both.
Devon turned to Victor before his anger could explode through the proof. “The staff are just telling me how this is going to be a great series,” he smiled. “Good job, sir.”
Victor scoffed and turned away, walking from the set and heading to his hotel room—the biggest one in this entire building. He opened the balcony and grabbed his cigarette before staring out at the vast expanse of forest-like scenery.
He scoffed and shook his head. He couldn’t wait for this place to be commercialized. It was what it needed.
Then, he took a long inhale of the cigarette before blowing it out in the wind.
Zeno Han had a way of catching him off guard. It felt like Zeno could see right through him, and no matter how hard Victor hid, he would always find him.
Just then, that familiar face appeared in his mind once more—his taunting words echoing like they came from someone who had lived through too many hardships.
At five years old, that boy made him feel pathetic.
“Uncle, why don’t you have any money?”
At ten, that boy made him feel ashamed.
“Aren’t you sorry for my father? He didn’t give birth to you, but he might as well have.”
At fifteen, that boy made Victor question whether he was truly a horrible person.
“Until when are you going to depend on everybody else? Frankly, it’s shameful to ask everything from your siblings while you don’t make an effort.”
At twenty, that boy became the reason why he always felt on edge.
“You have a new script? Don’t lie. I know your student wrote it.”
Fortunately, at twenty-five, that fucking boy died. But not before imparting these words—
“Somehow, someway, you will get what you deserve. Mark my words.”
Victor scoffed as the first cigarette burned out. He tossed it away and grabbed another one.
Even while he struggled to breathe… Even with a tube down his fucking throat, his nephew always made him feel like he was the smarter one between the two of them.
Victor looked up and showed the sky a middle finger. “Guess what?” he exclaimed. “You’re fucking dead while I’m thriving.”
He shook his head and smirked to himself.
***
Meanwhile, back in the field, Zeno was helping the staff clean up before their next shoot tomorrow.
“You don’t have to do this, Zeno,” Devon said with a small smile. “Get some rest for tomorrow.”
Zeno shrugged. “I didn’t have a hard time on set today. It wasn’t so tiring.”
Devon scratched the back of his neck. It wasn’t so tiring? He was literally flying everywhere!
However, it seemed Zeno’s mind was already set, so Devon allowed him to. A small smile appeared on Devon’s lips. The more he got to know about Zeno, the more he admired him.
While Zeno picked up some trash, a person stood next to him.
“No matter how much I ponder, it just doesn’t make sense.”
Zeno turned to see Marvin with a thoughtful expression.
“And you said you didn’t serve any of the special units of the military,” Marvin added.
Well, Zeno didn’t serve in the Navy Seals, the Marines, or the Special Forces.
However, he had served in the British Special Air Service in the 1940s. His mission was to continue the legacy of his father as a well-respected soldier. The body that was given to Zeno at that time was as thin and flimsy as a popsicle stick, and he had to start working out at the age of four to get to where he was.
That, paired with his skills as a hitman, made those moves much easier.
“Perhaps,” Marvin muttered, turning to Zeno with wide eyes. “You’re a genius at this!”
Zeno sighed. “I told you—it’s because you’re a great teacher.”
Marvin shook his head. “That can’t be. I’ve taught my students for years, but none of them have been able to accomplish it as well as you did.”
“Was this your previous job?”
“Nope,” Zeno said, going back to cleaning. Then, he glanced at him once. “Are you alright now?”
Marvin smiled, genuinely this time, before nodding. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Much better. For some reason, I feel like Victor would stick with our company until the end now.”
“But if he doesn’t, I guess that will be alright, too. You made me realize that I tolerate what I deserve.”
“I was prepared to be treated less than a person just because I was desperate. I started thinking low of myself because that was what Victor regarded me as.”
“But you’re right,” he said, smiling once more. “He’s not more valuable than I am just because he has made a name for himself already.”
“It just sucks that people like those still have the means to influence others,” he continued, his smile falling a little.
Zeno tied the garbage bag and threw it over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” Zeno said, walking to the disposal area. Marvin followed after him earnestly with a curious expression. Then, as Zeno threw the garbage bag into the disposal, he spoke, “Somehow, someway, he’s going to get what he deserves.”
“Mark my words.”