ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ
Kennedy Wayne was a thirty-year-old man who had an intense passion for the theatre. Twenty years ago he had wished to be in front of the camera, playing the leading role in the action-filled movie, but, unfortunately, he didn't get what he wanted. Yes, Ken was in front of the camera; that was no lie, but he wasn't the lead — okay, maybe he is sorta.
Ken was a stunt-double. A leading stunt-double. That should be worth being thankful for, right? However, Ken wasn't satisfied with his role in the acting world. Why? In this part of the world, stunt-doubles were degraded terribly and Kennedy was not exempted from their wrath.
As Ken pulled out the dark sun shades in a bad boy type of act, the director yelled a loud "STOP!" One thing Ken hated more than being a stunt-double was working with this director. The man was of average height — standing beside Ken made him look like a twelve-year-old. He had that thick French accent that made girl swoon hard, his eyes were deep Egyptian blue; hiding his harsh demeanor. "Why can't you get your part right, Ken?"
Ken shocked Lorenzo's voice toned down just a bit lower than the norms. He decided to play along with it. "What did I do wrong?" Locking eyes with the director, he noticed something he hadn't seen in all his few months of working with him. A smile. Delight. Somewhat like a blush.
He watched with uttermost shock as the man explained soothingly. Strange! Who hit him with the calm spell? Is he wearing some kind of new cologne that only permitted calmness? Most importantly, what's with this blush?
Last scene for the day. C'mon, K-man!
Ken re-ran his script, memorized the bad boy act Lorenzo had taken time to explain and took in a deep breath.
**
Ken having gotten his part right, made his way through the slightly crowded building. People were roaming around, getting ready to leave for their homes or lunch. He hummed to a little sentimental music playing softly through his earphones.
He had mentally noted his plans for the rest of the day.
1. Crash into Preston's house.
2. Help him tidy the place since he's always making a mess.
3. Start their usual conversations.
Ken hailed a cab and boarded in after stating where he was headed to the driver. The driver gave a humble, tired look when he nodded in affirmation, but behind all that, if you took a closer look, you'd notice grave sadness. Grief that knew no bounds.
Of course, being in the theatre had its perks. One, which Ken enjoyed the most, was being able to read people's facial expressions. Maybe he didn't get this from the theatre. It had been a part of him since he could remember, even when his dad was still alive. "So, how has the day been?" He decided to start a conversation with the old man.
"Good! Good. A little sun affecting my eyes more though!" Ken chuckled at the man's attempt at humor. The trip ended up short with Ken collecting the man's number for future purposes. "Anytime I need your services, Mr. Clan!" He had said once the yellow taxi halted.
"Please call me Ben." He politely requests, but Ken remained adamant. This man should be enough to be his father, why would I call him Ben? He pulled down the black face cap he was wearing to shield his eyes from the sun and progressed to Preston's house.
Ken made his way through the door to his friend's little house. A smile crept up his white face as a playful thought wriggled into his mind. Spotting Preston on the couch in front of the tv, Ken tiptoed towards the living room and screamed right into Preston's ears. With a terrified Preston on the cold tiles, Ken laughed hard. A really cute laugh — something he had practiced in front of the mirror when he dressed up.
"Ken! When will you stop sneaking up on me?" Preston scowled — a deep frown still plastered on his dark chocolatey face. He perched beside Ken who had now helped himself to the bag of Doritos he had been snacking on. Annoyed that Ken had changed the channel from the rom-com he was watching to a soccer game, he growled. "So, how did it go today?"
Ken groaned, his usual tone before he began ranting. "Awful! That stupid Durrell guy has no acting skills whatsoever! You see, it isn't fair. What does he have that I don't?" He kept on ranting, his words spreading across the living room like hot fire choking Preston's mind as he tried to sort everything out.
Flowing to how the director's behavior changed today to the blush on his face, Preston predicted his rant would be over in another twenty minutes. "You know what the world is against?"
"Stunt doubles?" Preston answered, tired of the same question every single day.
"No!" Ken's voice thickened; his head straight as he stared into Preston's black eyes. "Guys with sexy blue eyes!"
"And black Americans," Preston muttered. "I feel like you're running crazy, Kennedy! Stop it!"
"No, I will not! It's like the whole world is against me, dude!" He roared. "And you're turning into one of them, you jerk!" The words fell out of his mouth quicker than he could have held them in.
Ken shifted uncomfortably, gazed at the brown rug then back at his friend. "Okay! We'll talk when you calm down." His voice had gone soft. Sad. Like a girl whose parents refused to let her go to prom. He faced the television with a stern look then changed the channel back to the rom-com movie.
**
Best friends, right? I just hope Preston isn't annoyed with Ken's attitude today because he'd definitely see more of it. The very first chapter of My Double!! Hope you like it! Updating soon.
