บท 65: ch-62
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Small Announcement:
The reason I haven't been uploading chapters lately is that I've been working on creating another book. I wanted to build up enough chapters for a mass release.
Book Name: I Only Act Villain
Genre: Showbiz, Slice of Life
I decided to write a showbiz novel because genuinely good ones are becoming as rare as diamonds these days. Many translations of Chinese showbiz novels leave much to be desired. They often feature protagonists who sleep with countless women, lack proper side character development, rely on one-man-show dynamics, and are full of repetitive face-slapping plots.
This novel is my way of satisfying my craving for a well-written showbiz story. I just hope you'll support this new book as much as you've supported Stuntman to Star Director.
It would be released tomorrow or day after tomorrow
Note: This is not meant to hate on anyone; it's just my personal opinion.
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It had been a week since the mother cat had given birth to her kittens, and the household had settled into a gentle rhythm. The mother cat seemed content, her kittens growing stronger and more active each day under Aryan's careful watch. The young boy had taken it upon himself to be their guardian, ensuring they were fed and warm. Suraj often found himself smiling at the sight of Aryan playing with the kittens or simply sitting by their side, his innocence shining through. It was moments like these that grounded Suraj amidst the chaos of his work at Mythic Productions.
At the office, Suraj had been hard at work, pouring his creativity and energy into writing scripts. Over the past six to eight months, his dream theater—the Origin of Unknown—had gifted him a wealth of stories. Each night, he was transported to alternate worlds, witnessing events and narratives that were sometimes inspiring, sometimes horrifying. Out of the countless stories he'd experienced, ten stood out as exceptional. These ten stories had left a deep impression on him, and he had worked tirelessly to adapt them into screenplays.
However, not all the stories in the dream theater were worth telling. Some were filled with vulgarity, senseless violence, or shallow plots—stories that Suraj had come to classify as "F-rank." These tales disturbed him deeply, not only because of their content but because he knew they were reflections of real events from alternate or parallel worlds. The thought of such corruption and depravity existing somewhere out there weighed heavily on him. For this reason, Suraj had begun avoiding such stories in the dream theater, focusing instead on the ones with depth, meaning, and potential to resonate with audiences.
Suraj often wondered if constantly immersing himself in these otherworldly stories might have a corrupting influence on him. But whenever doubt crept into his mind, he found solace in Aryan. His little brother's pure heart and unshakable innocence served as a balm for Suraj's soul. No matter how dark the stories he encountered, Aryan's presence reminded him of the goodness in the world.
At Mythic Productions, Suraj was now reviewing the ten completed scripts. Each one was a gem, crafted with care and precision. The stories ranged from gripping thrillers to heartwarming dramas, each rooted in the human experience yet tinged with the extraordinary. Suraj had been meticulous in ensuring the scripts adhered to realistic physics and logic—no over-the-top car stunts defying gravity, no nonsensical plot twists. He wanted the stories to feel authentic, even when they ventured into the fantastical.
To protect his hard work, Suraj had approached Kunal, his uncle and trusted ally, to help copyright the scripts. Kunal had readily agreed, but when he sat down to read them, he was stunned. One by one, he devoured the scripts, his astonishment growing with each page.
"These are incredible," Kunal said to Suraj, setting the last script down with a mix of awe and disbelief. "If any of the top production houses got even a whiff of these, they'd stop at nothing to get their hands on them. These aren't just scripts—they're goldmines."
Suraj grinned, feeling a sense of pride but also caution. "That's why I want them copyrighted immediately. I can't afford to lose these stories, Kunal. They're not just movies; they're pieces of a larger vision."
Kunal leaned back in his chair, still processing what he'd read. "It's not just the quality, Suraj. It's the detail. These stories feel real, like they're based on actual events. How do you come up with this stuff?"
Suraj hesitated for a moment, considering how much to reveal. Finally, he settled on a half-truth. "Let's just say inspiration strikes in unexpected ways," he said with a small smile.
Kunal raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, whatever your process is, it's working. These scripts are leagues ahead of anything I've seen from the big studios lately. No unnecessary gimmicks, no over-the-top nonsense—just good, solid storytelling. If we play this right, Mythic Productions could make history."
Hearing those words filled Suraj with determination. For years, Mythic Productions had been a struggling entity, teetering on the brink of obscurity. But now, with these scripts and the success of Ravan's Rampage, Suraj could see a path forward—a way to not only honor his parents' legacy but also carve out a name for himself in Bharat's film industry.
Back at home, Aryan was busy showing off the mother cat and her kittens during a video call with a little girl named Ekaterina, his friend from Russia. Ekaterina was mute and communicated through sign language, which Aryan had been learning bit by bit to talk to her. Though his signs were clumsy, his enthusiasm made up for it.
"Look, Kati!" Aryan signed as he spoke aloud, holding the phone steady to show the mother cat. "This is the mama cat. And these are her babies. Aren't they cute?"
Ekaterina smiled brightly and signed back, her fingers moving quickly. Aryan squinted at the screen, trying to keep up. "Wait, slow down!" he said, laughing. Ekaterina giggled silently and slowed her movements, her hands signing, What are their names?
Aryan paused, tilting his head in thought. "I haven't named them yet," he said, attempting to mimic the signs for "name" and "yet." "I was waiting for them to grow a little. But I was thinking you could help me name one!"
Ekaterina's eyes sparkled, and she nodded eagerly. She signed back, How about Snowball for the white one? Aryan managed to decipher her signs and clapped his hands together. "That's perfect! Snowball it is."
As the two children continued their conversation, mixing Aryan's budding sign language with Ekaterina's patient guidance, the mother cat watched curiously, her ears twitching at the sound of Aryan's laughter. Aryan reached out to pet her gently, and she leaned into his touch, purring softly.
Suraj, who had just returned from the office, stood at the doorway, watching the scene unfold. A smile spread across his face. Aryan had an uncanny ability to connect with people and animals alike. Whether it was befriending a pregnant cat or brightening a friend's day from miles away, his kindness and warmth were boundless.
Later that evening, as the house grew quiet, Suraj sat in his study, reflecting on the day. He thought about Kunal's reaction to the scripts, Aryan's bond with the cat, and the strange memories of his dream theater. Despite the challenges and uncertainties, he felt a sense of hope. His journey was far from over, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was on the right path.
As he turned off the lights and prepared for bed, Suraj glanced at the photo he had taken that morning—the one of Aryan and the kittens sleeping peacefully together. It was a simple moment, but it spoke volumes about the life they were building.
With a contented sigh, Suraj whispered to himself, "We're getting there. One step at a time."
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