As Ophelia reaches the theatre grounds she notices the overwhelming confusion. The staff kept on running around like small ants who had lost their path.

“What’s wrong?” she grabs one of the scriptwriters, preventing him from walking forward.

“The Male Lead is missing!” he states, “No one has seen him in three days!”

“Oh shit...” she lets out a long sigh before heading towards the producer, “I heard the news Edgar, what are we going to do?”

“We don’t have time to host auditions...” his grip around the wooden chair tightens.

“Why not try some member of our staff? Maybe it will work?” this was a risky suggestion but, as things stood, there were no other possibilities.

“Alright, gather all the men that fit the requirements and bring them here!” he yells and the little cockroaches wandering around aimlessly finally gain a course to follow.

Half an hour passes and as Ophelia reviewed the script, Edgar leans toward her.

“I would like your insights in this as well,” he states and her eyes widen.

“Me? Why me?” she wasn’t used to this type of responsibility.

“I trust your acting skills,” he smiles widely before clapping his hands, “Let’s go, everyone! Time is ticking!”

‘You’ve got to be kidding me...’ Ophelia thinks as her attention is focused on the row of men before her.

“Each one of you has been given a short monologue from a scene, do your best to interpret it and improvise if you’d like,” Edgar declares right before looking at his information sheets, “Mace, the lights boy, you go first.”

All the other men exit the stage, leaving only a young boy with dark brown hair.

“I thought we were friends but I guess I was a fool... You’ve never seen me as a friend, did you?” Mace’s voice was low as he tried his best to portrait the pain behind the character however, after several lines the soft sound of a snore was heard.

“Edgar...” Ophelia whispers but, seeing how deep asleep he was, she tries to rock him slightly, “Edgar...!”

“Uh...? Uhn?!” he finally wakes up and everyone observes him from afar. Giggles surrounded the air as the producer straightened himself up.

“Should I continue...?” Mace questions.

“I think we’ve seen enough,” Ophelia comments while letting out a long sigh.

“His voice is soothing, like a cactus in a desert...!” Edgar replies with a smile on his face.

‘How is that soothing!?' she begins to question the sanity of the producer but, at the end of the day, she knew that, to be known you need to be a tad bit crazy.

“Next is...” he looks into the sheets, “Bradley, the scrips boy!”

‘Can you stop with that!?’ Ophelia begins to feel the disappointment gather on her soul.

“Oh, aren’t you a treat to the eyes?” Edgar comments when seeing his golden hair and his emerald eyes hidden behind a pair of circular glasses, “Start when you wish.”

“Thank you,” even if he was a pretty boy it was clear he wasn’t cut for theatre since he looked filled with nerves.

He puts down the paper sheets he was holding and begins to travel with his eyes, observing the lights, the people, everything carefully. Suddenly, he removes his glasses and a seductive smile appears on his lips.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“I thought we were friends but I guess I was a fool...” he pushes his hair backward while glaring into Ophelia’s eyes right before heading towards her, stopping only when they were almost able to touch, “You never saw me as a friend, did you...?”

A charming smile is placed on his lips as his finger caresses her chin, pulling it upwards.

“I think I’ve always known but I always tried to deny it since I knew that...” his face approaches hers, “The moment I embraced that truth I would...!”

“You would what? Confess to me? Own me? Chase me?” Ophelia stands up and begins walking forward, making the womanizer back away with every step, “Or perhaps you would rip off my heart and feed it to your greed?”

“No, I would...!” as he was about to speak she interrupts him.

“You would never do anything, you coward!” she yells and he falls onto the floor, “Edgar you may call the next one, this one is done.”

“Let’s see... Layton! Camera boy, come here, it’s your turn,” Edgar comments right before focusing his attention on the stage, “Why is a kid here!?”

Ophelia turns around and sees a little boy, no older than six years of age, standing on the platform unattended.

“Ralph! There you are!” Mace appears, “I’m sorry, I lost my little brother for a moment, please proceed!”

“Are you ready Layton?” Edgar questions.

“Y-Yes sir...” he answers reluctantly.

Several minutes pass and the boy was silently standing on the stage, looking around in conflict.

“Don’t waste my time boy,” the producer declares while paying attention to the other information sheets.

“A-Alright sir!” and again, several minutes pass and the boy was standing silently on the platform.

“Layton! Are you making a fool out of me!?” it was clear he was beginning to feel the accumulative anger.

“N-No! O-Of course not!” he declares as loud as he can.

“Then act!” Ophelia states loudly.

“C-Can I start?” the boy questions once again.

“YES!” they both yell in unison, filled with anticipation.

“I-I t-thought that we w-w-w-were f-friends...” the poor boy couldn’t even finish a sentence before he was interrupted.

“Thank you, Next!” Ophelia yells.

“Blake, the janitor boy?” a bright red-haired boy filled with tattoos enters the stage.

“...” he remains quiet and with an extremely cold expression.

“Start when you wish,” Edgar states, and the boy soon begins.

“I thought we were friends but I guess I was a fool...”

“Stop! You were supposed to memorize the script beforehand...!” the producer was mad.

“I am the one doing you a favor so shut up old man,” he replies and the environment grows quiet.

“Thank you, Blake, who’s next?” Ophelia tries to soothe the suffocating air by trying to change the subject.

“There’s no one else,” he lets out a sigh.

“Let me try! I’m really good you’ll see!”

“And you are...?” Edgar frowns seeing the man’s appearance.

‘Oh no... Trashell!’ Ophelia thought as he saw him.

“I’m Terrel! I take the trash out!” he happily smiles.

“I’m sorry but...!” he interrupts the producer.

“You’ll see Ophelia, I’m the best you’ll ever have!” he comments while approaching her.

She quickly opens her bag and removes a paper sheet.

“Remember this restraining order? You better back off or I’ll call the cops,” she smiles coldly and he clicks his tongue.

“Tsk...” he then leaves towards the back of the room.

“Don’t ask,” noticing Edgar was about to question their relationship, Ophelia cut it by the root.

“Who should we choose?” he comments while walking through the sheets.

“They are all terrible,” she comments while leaning her back onto the chair.

“Indeed... What should we do?”

“Let’s change the genre, why do I need a man anyway? I can do the whole show by myself Edgar and besides, the strong and independent woman is trending nowadays, it will for sure be a hit,” she suggests and after pondering on it a bit, Edgar agrees.

“It was decided this play will no longer be a romance! Thank you for participating, you can go back to your chores!” once Edgar makes this remark the boys head towards him and begin bombing him with questions and demanding explanations.

Ophelia left them and returned to her house since she didn’t want to deal with those bureaucratic problems.

“Did you miss me?” she smiles after opening the door to her basement.

“Mmgnh!” the Male Lead had a large piece of cloth in his mouth as his hands were trapped within large and tight pieces of rope.

She opens up her hidden fridge and removes some food.

“Until the play is over, you won’t leave this place, you know that right?” she smiles politely.

The Male Lead nods. He knew that he had been greedy and now she had power over him, trapping him in her house from the start.