Page 30 of King of Players

Leaning forward, I infused my eyes with a playful look. “To let out a secret that the media vultures haven’t figured out yet? I never actually graduated.”

With his eyes wide and mouth agape, he produced a theatrical gasp. He then quickly waved with a hand, shrugging it off. “It’s overrated.”

“And what about you? When did you know that you wanted to act?”

“At school, actually. I tell people that I voluntarily joined the theater crew, but in reality? It was a punishment imposed by my mother.”

“How come?”

“She was afraid I spent too much time playing video games. She panicked, like any mother who listened to television shrinks talk about the damaging effects of graphic violence on young minds.”

I laughed. “And so she shoved you onto a stage? Couldn’t you have played a sport or joined a book club?”

“None of those—according to my mom—required the discipline that theater did. To read a book, you’re alone in your room. And no matter what you were feeling, if you’re playing ball, you call, yell, and scream and hit the opposing players.” He paused. “But acting is different. It forces you to smile when you feel like shouting, or scream when you really can’t be bothered.”

“She sounds insightful.”

“Right? Awesome mom.”

I was beginning to relax as we started to exchange personal truths. Reaching for my glass of water, I asked, “And how did she react when you told her that you wanted to be an actor full-time?”

“You know? It never actually happened like that. First, it was some scout who needed a teenage boy for a commercial. Then, it was a pop music video. After that, I started getting modeling offers, and my mom was proud that at such a young age, I had the full understanding of what it took to earn my own allowance.”

“What about your dad?”

“My dad… a quiet thinker who preferred peace. He never cared, as long as everyone was fine, and no fights disrupted the household.”

I nodded. “Interesting.”

“What about you?”

“What? My parents?” I noticed his smile fade as he surely realized—too late—that his question was misplaced. I wanted to put him out of his misery.

“Well, I—” I shrugged. “From what I remember and what I was told, they were nice people. Never really got to know them, so the stories should do for now.”

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s fine! C’mon.” I laughed. “It was a lifetime ago, I don’t even…” My voice faded before I could tell him a lie. Something urged me to speak the truth. “I don’t really miss them. But I feel like I missed out on the whole experience of having parents, you know?”

He nodded. “You had your grandparents, though.”

“I did. And as grateful as I am for everything they did for me, I can’t help but feel that… there’s a dissonance, you know? The generation that raised me and the one I belong to—they’re light years apart, and I’m in the middle, still trying to find my grounds.”

His smile returned, this time radiating kindness. “I think you’re doing really well.”

“You think?” I tried to make my laugh sound as airy as possible.

Thankfully, I was also saved by the waiter who brought our food.

For the rest of our time at the restaurant, I couldn’t help but wonder what the real Chadwick Niles was like. Underneath these layers of politeness, courtesy, and going by the book. I was dying to see him transition to the point of reaching his true target.

twelve

The Spell

Chad

It was nearly three o’clock in the morning when I walked Kaira out of the restaurant, with my hand barely touching her lower back. Since we had come in my car, it was only natural that I’d drive her back home.

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