Josh's Honda Civic smelled of stale coffee and cheap pine air freshener.
Adrian sat in the back seat, watching Los Angeles pass by outside the window. Buildings. Cars. People walking with Starbucks cups. A normal Saturday for them. A different Saturday for him.
Tyler hadn't stopped talking since they left.
"Do you think there will be a lot of people? There probably will be. Josh, did you say how many people are expecting? Because if it's like a hundred people, I don't know if we'll have a chance. Adrian, are you nervous? I'm nervous. Can you tell I'm nervous?"
"It can," Adrian said.
Tyler laughed nervously. "Great. Perfect. I'm going to get there sweating like I ran a marathon."
Josh, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding a coffee that was definitely already cold, looked at them in the rearview mirror. "Tyler, breathe. It's just a casting call. It's not the end of the world."
"I know. It's just... it's my first real audition. Like, real, real. Not a school play."
"You're going to do great."
"How do you know?"
"I don't know. But you're going to try. That's what matters."
Tyler slumped in his seat. "That's not as comforting as you think."
Adrian kept staring out the window. He wasn't nervous. Not exactly. He felt... empty. Like always. But there was something else now. Something small. Curiosity, maybe.
A week ago, he wouldn't be here. A week ago, he would have said no without a second thought. But Shadow had died. And Adrian had cried in that park. And something had changed.
Not much. Just a little.
But enough to be in this car.
"Adrian," Tyler swiveled in his seat, "are you nervous?"
"No."
"Not at all?"
"I don't know what to expect. I can't be nervous about something I don't know."
Tyler blinked. "That's... surprisingly zen, bro." "It makes sense."
"Sure. Makes sense." Tyler turned to face forward. Then, more quietly, "Sometimes I forget how weird you are."
Adrian didn't reply. Tyler was right. He was weird. He always had been.
But maybe being here was a step toward being less weird.
Or maybe not.
They'd see.
Universal Studios loomed like a concrete and glass fortress against the blue California sky. Josh dropped them off in the parking lot—an endless sea of black asphalt with yellow lines stretching out like scars.
There were people. Lots of people.
Tyler got out of the car and froze. "Oh, shit."
Adrian got out too. He looked around.
Fifty people. Maybe more. Mostly men in their twenties and thirties. Some obviously in shape—muscles visible even under baggy T-shirts. Others average. A few with that professional air about them—the way they stood, the way they watched, the way they existed in the space.
"There are a lot of people," Tyler said, his voice rising an octave. "Look at all those guys. They look like they live at the gym."
Josh locked the car. "It's an open casting call. That means everyone's coming. Professionals, amateurs, people who saw the ad on Craigslist."
"So what category are we in?"
"Amateur."
"Great. Perfect. That doesn't make me feel any better."
Adrian kept watching. Three men in particular caught his attention. Late twenties, maybe thirties. They were in a separate group, stretching. Not casual stretching. Purposeful stretching. Every movement deliberate, controlled.
Professionals.
Adrian studied them. The way they moved. The space they occupied. There was something different about them. Something the others didn't have.
Confidence, he thought. Or experience. Or both.
"Hey." Tyler was beside him now. "What are you thinking about?"
Adrian nodded toward the three men. "They're different."
"Different how?"
"They move differently."
Tyler looked at them. "They look like they could kill me without breaking a sweat."
"Probably."
"Pretty comforting, bro."
Josh started walking toward the building. "Come on. We need to check in."
Tyler didn't move. He stood there, looking at all the people, all the competition, all the impossibility of the moment.
Adrian looked at him. "We came all this way."
Tyler blinked. "What?"
"We came all this way. There's no point in leaving now."
"But look at all these—"
"I've seen them. We came all this way."
Tyler looked at him. Really looked at him. Then, slowly, he nodded. "You're right. Okay. Let's go."
They walked toward the entrance.
Adrian didn't know why he'd said that. It wasn't his style to encourage people. But Tyler had looked... small. Scared. And something in Adrian didn't want Tyler to give up.
Weird, he thought. I'm getting weirder.
But he didn't feel bad.
The check-in was quick and efficient. A woman in her thirties with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail held a clipboard that likely contained everyone's names.
"Names and ages."
"Tyler Chen, sixteen."
"Adrian Cole, sixteen."
The woman looked up. Her eyes flicked between them. "Both sixteen?"
"Yes," Tyler said.
"Do you have parental permission?"
Tyler hesitated. "Uh... do we need it?"
"If you get hired, yes. For now, you can audition. But if someone wants you, you need to bring signed papers on Tuesday."
Josh, standing behind them, said, "I can help with that."
The woman nodded. "Perfect. Group three. The waiting area is over there." She pointed toward a large, shaded tent. "We'll call you."
They walked to the designated area. Metal folding chairs. Concrete floor. The California sun beat down on the edge of the tent, creating a sharp line between light and shadow.
Tyler sat down. Adrian did too.
"Group three," Tyler murmured. "What do you think that means?"
"That we're the third group."
Tyler looked at him. "Thanks, Captain Obvious."
Adrian didn't reply. But something in his expression must have changed because Tyler laughed.
"Did you just make a joke?"
"No."
"I think so."
"I didn't."
"You're getting better at this human thing, bro."
Adrian glanced toward the audition area. A raised platform. Stacks of blue mats. Coordinators with clipboards.
Human, he thought. That's a generous word.
They waited.
Ten minutes turned into twenty. Twenty into thirty. Thirty into forty-five.
Tyler couldn't stay still. He fidgeted with his leg. He stood up. He sat down. He stood up again.
"Do you think they'll take much longer?"
"I don't know," Adrian said.
"Do you think we'll be any good?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think we stand a chance against all these people?"
"Tyler."
"What?"
"I don't know anything. This is my first time, too."
Tyler sighed. "Right. Sorry. I'm being annoying."
"You're being nervous."
"Does it make a difference?"
"Probably not."
Tyler laughed. He sounded a little hysterical. "Okay. Okay. I'll try to calm down."
Adrian looked back at the hearing area. The professionals he'd noticed earlier were closer now. One of them—Asian, in his forties, muscles that suggested years of training—was talking to another coordinator. He moved with that same confidence Adrian had noticed earlier.
That's what someone who knows what they're doing looks like.
"What are you thinking about?" Tyler asked.
Adrian nodded toward the man. "The way he moves."
"Who?"
"That guy. The coordinator."
Tyler looked over. "He looks intimidating."
"He looks competent."
"That too."
Silence.
Then Tyler said, more gently, "Do you think we'll ever look like that? Like we know what we're doing?"
Adrian looked at him. Tyler was looking at the coordinator with something like... longing. Not envy. Something purer. Aspiration.
"I don't know," Adrian said honestly. "But you're trying. That's something."
Tyler turned away. "Since when are you motivational?"
"I'm not."
"You just said something motivational."
"It was an observation."
"It still counts."
Adrian didn't argue. There was no point. Tyler would hear whatever he wanted to hear.
But something small and warm stirred in Adrian's chest. Not unpleasant. Just... new.
This is what it feels like, he thought. Having a friend.
It was strange. But not bad.
"Tyler Chen."
Tyler jumped out of his chair as if he'd been electrocuted. "Okay. Okay. That's me. That's me."
Adrian looked at him. "You'll be fine."
Tyler blinked. "What?"
"You'll be fine."
"Did you just... cheer me up?"
"Go before they call the next one."
Tyler laughed—nervously, quickly. "Okay. Okay. Here I go."
He walked toward the audition area. Adrian watched him from a distance.
The Asian coordinator—the same one Adrian had been watching—was there with two others. A Latina woman. An older white man.
"I'm Rick Tanaka," the Asian man said. His voice carried clearly even from where Adrian was sitting. "Show me a forward roll."
Tyler nodded. He got into position. Adrian could see the tension in his shoulders. The uncertainty in his movements.
Tyler launched himself forward. The roll was... awkward. His hands were at the wrong angle. His momentum stopped mid-roll. He landed unevenly.
"Backward roll."
Tyler tried it. It was worse. He almost fell sideways.
"Okay. Thanks. Next."
That was it. Ten seconds. Maybe fifteen.
Tyler walked back. His face was a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. He slumped into the chair next to Adrian.
"I was terrible."
Adrian didn't know what to say. Tyler had been terrible. But saying that wouldn't help.
"You tried," Adrian said finally.
"That doesn't make it any better."
"No. But you tried."
Tyler glanced toward the audition area. "I don't know why I thought I'd be good at this. I have no training. I have no experience. It was stupid."
"It wasn't stupid."
"Not?"
"You wanted to try. You tried. That's not stupid."
Tyler looked at him. "Are you trying to make me feel better?"
"I'm telling the truth."
"Sometimes they're the same." Tyler leaned back in his chair. "Thanks, bro."
Adrian nodded.
Something in his chest felt tight. Not painful. Just... there. He realized he cared that Tyler was disappointed. He wanted Tyler to feel better.
Weird, he thought again. I'm definitely getting weirder.
"Adrian Cole."
Rick Tanaka's voice cut through the murmur of the waiting area.
Adrian stood up. Tyler gave him a thumbs-up. "You're gonna do great, bro."
Adrian walked toward the audition area.
Three pairs of eyes watched him as he approached. Rick Tanaka in the center. The Latina woman to his left. The older white man to his right. All three holding clipboards. All three with that same appraising look Adrian had seen on teachers, on doctors, on anyone who had ever tried to understand him.
"Name," Rick said.
"Adrian Cole."
"Age."
"Sixteen."
Rick looked up from his clipboard. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Sixteen?"
"Yeah."
"Have you trained? Gymnastics? Martial arts?"
"Gymnastics in school. Nothing professional."
Rick exchanged a glance with the other coordinators. Something happened between them. Silent communication.
"Okay," Rick said. "Show me a forward roll."
Adrian got into position. Hands on the ground. Weight distributed. Momentum calculated.
He launched himself.
The roll was perfect. He knew it was. He could feel it in the way his body moved, in the way he landed—silent, controlled, no wasted energy.
"Again."
Adrian repeated. Identical to the first.
Rick leaned forward. "Backward roll."
Adrian did it. Just as clean.
The three coordinators looked at each other again.
Rick stood up. He walked over to Adrian. His presence was... big. Not physically—Adrian was almost as tall as him. But there was weight in the way he moved. Experience. Years of doing this.
"How did you learn that?" Rick asked.
"I don't know."
"'I don't know' isn't an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
Rick studied him. His eyes were sharp. "See that platform?"
Adrian followed his gaze. A wooden platform. Eight feet high. Blue mats underneath.
"Yes."
"I want you to get up there. I want a basic fall. Back. Land on shoulders. Roll out."
Adrian looked at the platform again. Eight feet was nothing. He'd jumped higher than that before. But this was different. There were people watching. There was anticipation.
For the first time since he'd arrived, he felt something.
Not fear. Something else.
Anticipation.
"Okay," Adrian said.
He walked to the platform. He climbed the ladder. He stood on the edge.
From here he could see the entire area. The fifty people waiting. Tyler watching him. Josh beside him. The coordinators observing.
He looked down. The mats. Eight feet of drop.
Can I do this right?
The question came uninvited.
Adrian didn't know where it was coming from. He didn't usually question his abilities. He just did things. But now, standing on this platform, with all these people watching... He wanted to do it right.
Not just right. Perfect.
He breathed.
He let go.
The world went silent. The air rushed past his face. Half a second of freefall. His body knew exactly what to do. It had known since he was five.
He landed on his shoulders. The impact was perfectly distributed. Roll forward. Momentum converted into movement. Standing.
Silence.
Adrian turned to face the coordinators. Rick Tanaka was looking at him with an expression Adrian couldn't quite read. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition.
"Jesus," Rick murmured.
The Latina coordinator leaned toward Rick. "Rick. You need to keep this kid."
The older man nodded. "I agree. That was a whole different level."
Rick walked over to Adrian. "How old did you say you were?"
"Sixteen."
"And you've never worked as a stunt double?"
"I don't know what that is."
Rick laughed. It wasn't cruel. It was... genuine. "Of course you don't know."
He took a card from his pocket. He held it out to Adrian.
Adrian took it. He looked at it.
JAKE MORRISON - STUNT COORDINATOR
A phone number. An email address.
"What's this?" Adrian asked.
"A job. Potentially." Rick crossed his arms. "Call that number on Monday. Before 10:00 AM. Ask for Jake Morrison. Tell him Rick Tanaka sent you."
"Okay."
"You're going to need parental permission. A birth certificate. A doctor's physical. Can you get all that by Tuesday?"
Adrian thought. "I think so."
"Good. Call on Monday. Jake will tell you what's next."
Adrian looked at the card again. Then at Rick. "What did I see? What makes you give me this?"
Rick smiled. "Natural ability. Control. Things that take most people years to learn." He paused. "Kid, do you understand what I'm offering you?"
"Not really."
"Honesty. I like that." Rick pointed toward the waiting area. "Monday. Don't forget."
"I won't forget."
Adrian walked back. The card felt heavier than it should.
Tyler stood up from his chair before Adrian reached him. "Dude. What was that? What did he give you?"
Adrian showed him the card.
Tyler read it. His eyes widened. "Holy shit. He gave you a card. What does that mean?"
"He said to call on Monday. That maybe there's work."
"Work? Like real work? On a movie?"
"That's what he said."
Tyler looked at Adrian. Then at the card. Then back at Adrian.
And Adrian braced himself. For jealousy. For resentment. Tyler had failed. Adrian had succeeded. That would create distance. That would create problems.
But Tyler smiled.
Real. Genuine. Not a hint of anything negative.
"Dude, that's awesome."
Adrian blinked. "Aren't you...?" "Jealous?" Tyler laughed. "No. Well, maybe a little. But mostly I'm happy for you."
"Really?"
"Yeah. You're my friend. I'm happy when good things happen to you."
Friend.
That word again.
Adrian didn't correct her this time. Because maybe Tyler was right. Maybe they were friends.
"Thanks," Adrian said.
"For what?"
"For not being mad."
"Bro." Tyler put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm never going to be mad when you're successful. That's not what friends do."
Something in Adrian's chest loosened. He hadn't realized he'd been tense. But he had been. Worried. Because he didn't want to lose this. He didn't want to lose Tyler.
Weird, he thought again. So, so weird.
But okay. It felt good.
The ride back was different from the ride there.
Tyler was still talking—that hadn't changed—but now he was talking about Adrian. About the fall. About the card. About what it meant.
"So you're going to call on Monday, right?"
"Yeah."
"And you're going to get the paperwork?"
"I'm going to try."
"Dude, this is huge. Like, really huge."
Josh, driving, glanced at them in the rearview mirror. "Rick Tanaka doesn't give his card to just anyone. If he gave it to you, it's because he saw something real."
Adrian looked at the card in his hand. Small. Rectangular. Plain paper.
But it felt important.
"What did he see?" Adrian asked.
"Potential," Josh said. "Skill. Discipline." A pause. "Future."
Future.
Adrian tested the word in his mind. He'd never given much thought to the future. The future was abstract. Distant. The present was what mattered.
But now, with this card in his hand, the future felt... possible.
"What are you thinking about?" Tyler asked.
"That a week ago I wouldn't have come."
"Why did you come today?"
Adrian thought about Shadow. About that park. About crying for the first time in eleven years. About realizing how stupid he'd been.
"Because I'm trying to be different."
"Different how?"
"I don't know yet."
Tyler nodded. "Well, whatever you're doing, it's working."
Adrian didn't answer. He just stared out the window.
LA was passing by. Buildings. Cars. People living their lives.
And Adrian, for the first time in a long time, felt like he was living his own, too.
They arrived at the apartment at 12:30 PM.
Josh dropped them off at the entrance. "Monday, Adrian. Don't forget."
"I won't forget."
Tyler punched him. "See you Monday at school, bro."
"Okay."
Adrian went inside the apartment.
Rebecca was in the living room, reading a book. She looked up when he came in. "How was it?"
Adrian sat on the couch next to her. He showed her the card.
Rebecca took it. She read it. Her eyes moved over the words twice.
"What's this?"
"A stunt coordinator. He told me to call on Monday. That there might be work."
"Work? On a movie?"
"That's what he said."
Rebecca looked at him. Really looked at him. "Adrian, this is... this is big."
"Maybe."
"Are you going to call?"
Adrian nodded. "Yeah."
"What if they say yes? What if they want to hire you?"
"Then I'm going to need your permission. And paperwork."
Rebecca was silent. Her eyes filled with tears. But she was smiling.
"I'm proud of you."
"Why?"
"Because you went. Because you tried." A pause. "Because you're doing things again."
Adrian didn't know what to say to that. So he didn't say anything.
Rebecca handed him back the card. "I'm going to make lunch. Are you hungry?"
"Yes."
She went to the kitchen. Adrian stayed on the couch.
He looked at the card.
JAKE MORRISON - STUNT COORDINATOR
A week ago, this wouldn't have happened. A week ago, Adrian would have been in his room. Alone. As usual.
But Shadow was dead. And Adrian had changed.
Not much. Just a little.
But enough to be here. To have this card. To have this chance.
He didn't know what was going to happen on Monday.
But for the first time in eleven years.
He wanted to find out.
That night, Adrian lay in his bed.
The bed was still empty without Shadow.
But it felt... different. Less empty.
He glanced at the card on his nightstand.
"Shadow," he said softly. "Something happened today."
Silence.
Of course. Shadow was dead.
"I don't know what. But something."
The wind blew outside. Nothing more.
Adrian closed his eyes.
Tomorrow was Sunday. He would call on Monday.
And then...
They'd see.
He fell asleep.
And for the first time in years, he dreamed.
He didn't remember the dream when he woke up.
But he remembered the feeling.
Possibility.