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Chapter - 151
🕑 Added 2025-06-10 18:16:27 +0000 UTC[Title : Trouble]
….
[Note: Slightly darker themes]
–Stirrr~
Stephen Jr. groaned as he blinked awake, the dull throb in his skull pulsing in sync with the hangover pounding through his head.
His mouth was dry, his skin slightly chilled.
With no shirt.
Just a crumpled blanket draped over his lower half - and the unmistakable weight of regret setting in.
This wasn’t his room that much was clear.
Muted morning light crept through sheer hotel curtains, casting unfamiliar shapes on the floor. His eyes slowly tracked across the chaos - discarded shoes, an open minibar, a red cocktail dress tossed casually over a chair - and the sound of running water behind a bathroom door.
Right.
His memory slid into place - blurry, but not broken.
Last night. A divey little bar off Sunset. One too many drinks.
Then… Liam Bethell.
The actor.
His co-star, now.
They had crossed paths ever since Stephen signed onto that small romantic drama, his first role post - [Death Note], and a conscious detour.
He had been drowning in offers, sure, but most were the same type - brooding genius, morally grey, Light-in-disguise.
Stephen wasn’t stupid. He didn’t want to get typecast before he had even started. So he chose something different - a supporting role, a littler softer, looser and less pressure.
The lead? Liam Bethell.
Stephen had hesitated at first, not because of the failure of his last two films. It never was.
It was because - [Mastor] - Liam’s last film - had flopped hard, and worse, it was released in a competition opposite to - [Death Note].
There were definitely debates and industry gossip surfaced back then.
Stephen had worried the tension would follow them onto set.
But it hadn’t.
Liam was…. Surprisingly professional. Friendly, even.
It is no wonder he had made his career in such competitive Hollywood. He is smart in his own offbeat way and over the weeks, they have grown close - laughing between setups, killing time during rehearsals with real conversations.
Still Stephen felt the need to have a barrier in between them.
And last night - Stephen remembered that clearly now - due to all the things happening with him over the month he had let his guard down and got drunk in front of him…. and even passed out.
And despite he hadn't said anything outright, Liam was able to see he was in disturbed state, though he concluded the reasons to be because of the failure of his past two films, which was not.
However, a stabbing question ran through his mind.
How did he end up here? He ran a palm across his face, then forced himself up, the hangover dragging at his limbs.
He could hear the sound of a running shower in the bathroom.
Was he being set up? Most probably. But by whom though? Is it Liam? I mean, he did pass out in front of him.
So many question, but first of off–
Just get out of here. Now.
Then, he scooped out of the bed, wore his discarded clothes, and made sure to collect all his belongings not wanting to leave any of his traces.
Knowing that he didn't have sex with unwomen again is the only thing that is keeping him sane.
Right. He is sure, despite being tipsy he didn't stick his dick in whoever is bathing.
Why because - for the past few weeks after a certain incident he couldn't get aroused from the night he found his girlfriend cheating on him.
Right.
And for the first time he was glad about it.
Without wasting any more time Stephen got dressed fast - jeans, shirt, wallet, keys, phone. He double-checked for anything left behind: charger, ID, nothing slipped under the bed.
The last thing he wanted was someone stumbling onto his name in the morning.
However, just before leaving he found the college ID Card of the women, which he made sure to click a photo just in case.
And immediately rushed out of the room.
He could hear the sound of water turning off, just as he excited the room.
…..
Before Night.
Regal’s Office.
…..
The room was quiet.
Notes were spread across the long table between them - pages annotated in Regal’s tight scrawl, scene breakdowns from the third act, and a detailed emotional map of Snape’s arc.
Regal’s handwriting ran sharp and narrow through the margins, underlining key moments in red, some lines circled twice.
Alfred Molina was leaning forward, reading glasses perched low on his nose, murmuring lines under his breath from a scene.
Regal sat across from Alfred Molina, softly lit rehearsal space at the back of the Red Studio lot.
Today, it was just the two of them, as Willem Dafoe and Robin Williams aren’t here.
This meeting had been scheduled discreetly, off the calendar, off the books.
Not even assistants. Will expect for Rock who was standing a little far… away which Regal didn't in actuality.
The moment Molina stepped in, he was asked to sign a separate NDA.
Stricter than the rest.
The kind that didn’t just carry legal weight - it carried silence like a threat.
Then Regal began speaking.
And once he started, he didn’t stop.
What Alfred had believed - what everyone had been told - was a fraction. A sliver of a sliver. The story known to the world through the two published books was clever, layered, and rich.
But it was incomplete.
“Snape isn’t just a double agent.” Regal said softly. “He is the entire hinge of the story’s soul. Not because he is perfect - he isn’t. But because he is human in a way none of the others are willing to be.”
Alfred listened closely, brow slowly knitting.
Regal continued, flipping to a color-coded sheet titled [The Turning Year].
“This moment here - when he sees Lily’s child in danger, and chooses to act - it isn’t redemption. It’s penance. And that difference matters.”
He tapped the final column with a knuckle. “This isn’t like a general reveal. It’s a tragedy that was always quietly happening behind the curtain.”
Then came the part Alfred hadn’t expected.
A timeline.
Not just of Snape’s arc, but of everything.
Regal had charted relationships like a military strategist: secrets layered on secrets, characters that hadn’t even been introduced in the released books, foreshadowing moments that paid off three novels later.
By the time he reached the conclusion - Snape’s conclusion - it didn’t feel like a twist.
It felt inevitable. And devastating.
Alfred closed the folder slowly, fingers resting on the cover. His eyes didn’t lift right away.
There was silence.
A full minute passed.
Alfred leaned back, exhaling once. He tapped the folder lightly.
“I will need time to let this live inside me a bit.” He said. “But I will tell you this much: I have never wanted to be someone more than I want to understand him now.”
Regal offered a rare smile. “You will.”
Buzz–!
His phone buzzed.
Regal ignored and continued. However, just after a minute–
Buzz–!
It buzzed again.
This time he excused himself from the conversation and looked at the display–
[Stephen Hawking. Jr.]
What does he want? Regal wondered, being contacted after this long time.
When he clicked open, there was a missed call, and a voice message.
Without much thought, Regal tapped Play.
[“.....”]
However, nothing came–
Like literally nothing–
Regal was definitely confused, and even…. felt something was off. But he kept aside the thoughts, deciding to contact him later. Or even met him face to face.
Finishing his thoughts Regal dived back to the discussion.
….
Soon after, an hour or so, late into mid night - Alfred stepped out of the rehearsal space, walking toward the edge of the lot.
He wasn’t in a rush.
The air outside was cooler than expected.
Quiet.
He appreciated that.
Because he was thinking…
No. Not about the voice clip he just heard… he already forgot about that part.
He was focused on something more important.
“Alright… so that was a lot.”He adjusted the folder under his arm, still thinking about everything Regal had just said.
“Snape… huh.”
“Not the way people think he is. Not the way I thought, either.”
He kept walking.
“Guess that is why he didn’t tell me all this earlier. Would’ve changed the way I read everything. Probably would've played it too heavy-handed.”
“Makes sense now. That’s why those scenes felt odd - like something else was sitting under the surface, just not on the page yet.”
He passed by a pair of folding chairs stacked near a trailer. No one was around.
“Kid's sharp, though. Scarily sharp. Not just with Snape - with the whole story. Like it’s already done in his head.”
“Not something you usually see at this stage… Not something you see even after all the whole story is wrapped sometimes.”
He exhaled through his nose, a small smirk.
“Still. Guy knows what he’s doing. That much is clear.”
“Guess I have got work to do now. Real work.”
He reached the edge of the lot, glanced back once, then kept walking. Just him, the notes in his hand, and a very different version of Snape starting to take shape in his head - quieter, sadder, more complex than he'd imagined.
With no big thoughts and drama.
Just... work ahead.
….
Inside, Regal sat in stillness for a moment.
Then came movement behind him - Rock, silent until now, stepped forward from the back wall.
“Prep the car. We are going to see an old friend.”
Rock nodded. “Five minutes.”
Regal rose, pocketed his phone, and dialled to Christopher - Stephen’s friend and agent.
….
A jazz record hummed softly in the background. The air smelled of expensive tobacco and old wood.
Liam Bethell lounged on a leather chair, swirling a half-full glass of wine between his fingers.
Across from him, his uncle, Henry Bethell, watched him with a half-curious, half-indulgent gaze.
“You got them good?” Henry asked.
Liam took his time, watching the wine rotate in the glass. “Rigth. These photos can definitely bring some good trouble if leaked.”
“Well played.” Henry leaned back. “...now we wait for the right time.”
Liam nodded smilingly.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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