Stardom Reset: From Washed-Up Actor To Global Superstar

Situated just off Melrose Avenue, Silver-Crest Studios’ high-rise modern building, fitted with floor to ceiling glass windows was modestly busy as staffs briskly made their way in.

The area around the studio itself was equally also lively but not overwhelming, with cafés, parked production vans, and the occasional crew member walking by.

As the late morning sun hung overhead, Niall drove into the fairly occupied parking lot.

Dressed in a vintage-brown button-down shirt with its sleeve slightly rolled up, an elegant silver wristwatch on his wrist and sleek ash-grey pants, Niall alighted from his vehicle, his vintage-brown Chelsea boots accentuating the fit.

Script in hand, he walked into the building and checked in with the front desk, got his visitor badge, and made his way into the designated conference room.

A couple individuals were already in. Production staffs and crew members involved in the movie, Niall presumed.

Exchanging low greetings with them, Niall set his script on the long table as another production staff walked in to set the table, placing additional scripts and bottle waters to designated spots.

’Seems I’m the first to arrive amidst the main cast,’ Niall thought to himself as he quietly pulled out a chair to sit on.

Casually flipping through the pages of his script with a measured calm, the faint hum of the air conditioning, the hushed exchanges between the staff members and the occasional distant clatter from elsewhere in the building keeping him company, the young actor simply awaited the arrival of the movie’s ensemble.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long.

Five minutes later, a bunch of them quietly trickled into the room, each exchanging greetings with each other and equally, Niall himself.

The main leads arrived not long after, their presence shifting the atmosphere almost immediately.

David Wilde, a handsome yet rugged-looking young man in his mid-twenties, stepped in mid-conversation with a manager on the phone, his hands briefly running through his inky-black hair.

A light smile hung on his features, his amber irises sweeping across the room in a show of respect as he inclined his head.

Then, ending the phone call, he greeted the room properly, offering quick handshakes and light smiles as he took his seat. He was the movie’s male lead.

Equally taking her own seat next to him was the gorgeous Emily Turner, her hands brushing a few stray bangs away from her forehead.

Her long natural blonde hair was parted onto one side, falling over her shoulder in an elegant fashion, and her electric-blue irises exuded warmth as she reciprocated the many greetings she was receiving. Notably in her early twenties, she was the movie’s female lead.

In any case, following their arrival, more actors and key personnel filtered in.

From costume leads, to a dialogue coach, and even a script supervisor, each took their places as the room gradually filled up with quiet anticipation.

Curiously, as Niall glanced over to them, he couldn’t help but asses them with his gift.

Much like he’d assessed himself, hues signifying their potential exuded from each individual, with various icons popping up above their heads.

Practically most people in the room had a golden hue, with most of their icons silver-framed.

As for the main lead, he had a hue of platinum indicating his potential to be excellent, and a gold-plated film slate icon that made it clear that he had great acting skills.

Emily on the other hand, despite having a similar hue of platinum, had a film slate that was slowly bleeding from gold to platinum.

’Wow. That’s quite... something,’ Niall’s thoughts reflected his genuine surprise.

Sure, he’d been expecting the main leads to be a cut above the rest but even then, the gap was jarringly impressive.

That said, a few minutes later, the director entered, accompanied by a small cluster of assistants and producers.

Conversations in the room dipped slightly as attention shifted towards the lady in her mid-thirties.

Assessing her, Niall watched a hue of platinum exude from her as well, two gold-plated icons--a camera icon and fountain pen--lingering above her head.

Greeting the cast with a warm but authoritative tone, and exchanging brief pleasantries before settling at the head of the table, Ivelia York, with her bobbed, bleached-blonde hair, swept her gaze over the room curiously.

Then,

”Good turnout. That’s always a good sign.” she casually remarked.

That earned a good chuckle from the room.

Following up from that, she gave the room a small acknowledging nod, her steel-blue irises focused as she tapped the script before her with a pen.

”Alright,” she began, her voice steady.

”Let’s bring [The Promised Queen] to life.”

In response, chairs scraped softly against the floor, pages flipped, pens clicked and the atmosphere in the room shifted.

”Alright, from the top,” Ivelia said, adjusting her red-rimmed glasses as she glanced towards the script supervisor, a middle-aged man who seemed to be in his late fifties.

”Page one,” the supervisor confirmed and in an instant, the session went into full-swing, Emily acting as the narrator.

”Before the myth, before the legend of my son, Arthur Pendragon, Camelot was once at its prime... ruled by another that wasn’t a Pendragon,”

The opening narration was read cleanly by her, setting the stage for Camelot at the peak of their power.

Like that, the session continued, with the actors taking over when their parts came.

At intervals, some actors pointed out certain things here and there--contributions, concerns and the likes.

Niall however, simply remained quiet through it all.

Those were things an average joe in the industry would pick up without fail with a brief look over.

However, the much more obscure details... the ones that required deeper scrutiny, those were the things he was planning to point out.

Only through that would he have the avenue to truly challenge the director’s vision without his contributions being overlooked.

Soon enough, midway through the session, an opportunity came.

”Wait,” David said, lifting a hand slightly.

”Just a quick one, timeline-wise... Morlund’s been Captain long enough to earn this level of trust, right?”

”Yeah. Years.” one of the assistant producers nodded in response;

”Okay,” David then continued, flipping back a page as he queried;

”Then, does anyone suspect him at all? Because the betrayal’s clean... maybe too clean, in fact.”

To that, Ivelia leaned forward slightly;

”You’re thinking the foreshadowing’s not strong enough?”

”Yeah. I do. It seems way too obscure,” David clarified.

”But maybe one or two lines earlier, something that reads normal the first time, but off in hindsight.” he offered.

To that, Ivelia nodded slowly in response, the script supervisor quickly jotting down the observation.

”Maybe a hesitation during the toast,” Emily casually suggested.

”Or, maybe he avoids eye contact with Uther briefly...?” Gareth Armstrong, a fairly-bulky, sharp-looking man in his late thirties added with a slight furrow of his brows.

He was the actor playing Morlund.

Musing to herself, Ivelia was about to make a comment when a new voice spoke, almost as if reading her thoughts;

”Or overcompensates,”

Casually speaking, his tone almost objectively calm, Niall’s gaze remained on the script as he continued;

”He could be too loyal in earlier scenes. Almost like he’s performing it.”

”Makes his sudden switch all that more unsettling later.” the young man raised his gaze from the script, only to realize that all heads had turned in his direction.

Granted practically everyone in the room had noticed him when they’d arrived--what with his striking looks that made it impossible not to--most had still been caught off guard.

It also didn’t help that most in the room had written him off as the supporting actor who probably didn’t have much intellectual input to give in the first place anyway and was simply here for the sake of attendance.

That however, didn’t seem to be the case as they’d assumed.

Judging by the conversational tone he’d used to explain his thought process... especially since he’d been reading the parts in his script professionally thus far, it demonstrated that he was in fact, invested in the session and not there just for the necessity of it.

Blinking a few times though, almost as if wondering if he’d said something wrong, Ivelia broke the silence whilst giving a small nod;

”Good. That’s good.”

”I can work that in.” she added immediately after and then gestured for the session to continue.

A few minutes after, midway through reading his lines, Gareth paused and then spoke;

”Hold on, sorry,”

”Logistically... how do only some of the knights turn on Morlund?” he asked, confusion evident on his features.

”Split allegiance beforehand, maybe?” David replied, then shook his head in denial whilst countering himself;

”Nah. That doesn’t feel right. There’s no way the king or Uther wouldn’t have caught wind of it. They were too trusting of him.”

”Right? So, in the chaos of the banquet ambush, how are they identifying sides that fast?” Gareth gestured vaguely in response.

”That’s... actually a fair point,” Emily admitted, her expression curious... only for Niall to casually remark;

”The reason’s actually simple. That’s why it so easy to miss.”

Once again, all head turned towards Niall as he explained;

”It’s because it’s not instant.”

”The split happens during the fight, yeah. That means everyone’s confused at first, and then, choices start being made. Loyalty to the crown, or loyalty to their traitorous Captain.”

”Sort of makes the scene a hundred times messier, now that I think about it,” he added, a glint of dark fascination in his irises.

”And more believable.” Gareth nodded in realization.

Lightly tapping her pen on her script, a thin, acknowledging smile spreading across her lips, Ivelia spoke, her eyes glancing over in Niall’s direction;

”Let’s continue.”

To that, the script reading session continued on, with Niall giving very crucial inputs and surprising insights through the entirety of it.

At some point, people even began looking towards him, notably eager to hear his insights.

That said, towards the latter half of the session, Igraine’s character shift began to take center stage, her harsher, more decisive tones appearing in the dialogues.

As a result, Emily paused after reading a particular line.

”This part... I’ve been having issues truly grasping the undercurrents involved,” she stated.

”It feels like a jump, if I’m being honest.” she added with a furrowed brow.

”I mean, I get where she ends up... she’s lost her parents, her kingdom’s at the danger of being overthrown by Morlund’s forces, she’s worried she might not survive the hunt...”

”But the shift between both of these scenes... it still feels like we skipped a step.” she tapped the page with a thoughtful expression.

”I just,” she began and then paused, pinching her forehead.

”Emotionally, I just want to know what’s swimming in her head to truly earn that version of her.” Emily said gently.

For a while, no one in the room spoke, every individual realizing just how deeply passionate Emily was about her role as Igraine.

But for Niall, he’d realized exactly why her grade was slowly shifting towards platinum.

Emily Turner, asides from being notably talented, was truly sinking herself into Igraine’s shoes and feeling around even the most diminutive detail for what it meant to fully embody her character.

Ivelia on the other hand, unsure of what to say to ease Emily’s dilemma, chose to instead push the question to Niall.

Considering she herself hadn’t been able fix that little detail in the script--especially with all the unwarranted changes she had been forced to make to it--she was hoping Niall’s insight could help.

Afterall, he’d been giving solid inputs thus far. Maybe he could also do the same again here.

”Niall,” she casually called out.

”Perhaps, you have some insight into this as well?” she gestured, a hint of curiosity dancing beneath her irises.