Zenith of Desire: The Hollywood Incubus

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******

*”I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they’re gone. I guess I just miss my friend.”*

That quote from *The Shawshank Redemption* moved Marvin’s soul.

As an Incubus existing in the frail body of a child, he understood the reality of having feathers too bright for the cage of humanity. He was a creature of the limitless cosmos, had to play by the bureaucratic rules of Hollywood.

---

Inside the AMC Lincoln Square theater, it was pitch dark. Only the flickering light of the silver screen glowed, illuminating the faces of the Hollywood elite.

Marvin and Scarlett sat in the plush VIP second-row seats, legs casually crossed.

In the dark, a trembling white hand reached tentatively across the armrest. It nervously found Marvin’s hand and playfully scratched his palm.

Marvin smiled proudly to himself in the shadows. He opened his hand and firmly enveloped Scarlett’s.

It was noticeably damp with nervous sweat, but soft and warm. Marvin’s tastes were specific.

Compared to the starving ”Ozempic beauties” that would eventually plague the future entertainment industry—women who aggressively starved themselves until they looked like walking x-rays—Marvin preferred healthy, fit beauties who actually had soft flesh and muscles over their bones.

The thought of the manufactured starvation aesthetics of the future turned his mood off.

Scarlett, even at thirteen, possessed a natural, healthy vitality that was refreshing.

Scarlett had just spent forty-five minutes of the movie mustering every ounce of courage she possessed to reach out and touch him. Her forehead beaded with sweat in the air-conditioned theater, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it.

When Marvin responded immediately by warmly squeezing her hand back, a massive wave of relief flooded through her. Scarlett turned to him, a radiant smile spreading across her face as her green eyes sparkled with shy excitement. Marvin flashed a devastating smirk and pointed toward the screen, suggesting they keep watching.

But Scarlett’s mind had abandoned the movie. Her mother’s words from the subway earlier that week shot through her. Her briefly relaxed mood vanished. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her palms grew sweatier. Marvin squeezed her hand, his heightened senses picking up on her slippery skin. Playfully, he pinched her fingers, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, spreading her nervous sweat.

Scarlett wanted to die. She felt embarrassed and furious at her body. ’What’s wrong with me?!’ she screamed inside. ’Why am I sweating like a pig?’ She could smell her adrenaline clashing with her perfume. ’Would Marvin feel sick? Would he think she was disgusting?’

She cursed herself violently for not being cool, calm, and sophisticated like the glamorous women Marvin was used to. She desperately wanted to yank her sweaty hand back in shame, but Marvin’s grip only tightened. He held it firmly, securely, and gently pulled her arm, effortlessly guiding her closer until she was leaning her full weight against his side.

Her soft, developing chest pressed warmly against his strong arm and ribs through their clothes. The constant subtle friction made her nipples tighten into sensitive peaks, sending little sparks of unwanted pleasure through her body. Her hip and thigh molded tightly against his, and every small shift caused their bodies to rub together in the dark.

”Marvin... I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m sorry. Do you hate me?” Scarlett whispered, her trembling lips brushing his ear. Her voice was thick with embarrassment and shy arousal.

Marvin smiled softly, his nebula-blue eyes glowing in the reflected light. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. He tasted the salty tang of her sweat — and didn’t flinch. Instead, he inhaled deeply, then leaned his head against hers, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in her body’s natural scent.

”I don’t care, Scarlett,” Marvin whispered directly into her ear, his velvet voice low and intimate sending a delicious shiver racing down her spine and straight between her legs. ”Hide your face in my shoulder so people won’t smell how nervous and excited you are.”

Scarlett’s racing heart melted into something warm. Her eyes turned soft as she looked at his flawless profile. He didn’t mind. He even seemed to like her body’s scent. The thought made her cheeks burn hotter and that fluttery ache between her thighs grow stronger.

She buried her face deeper into his neck and shoulder, pressing her warm body tighter against his. Her breasts squished gently against his arm as she clung to him, completely lost in the safe, electric warmth of his Incubus aura and the addictive closeness of their bodies in the dark theater.

He really, truly didn’t care. He finds the natural scent of women’s bodies pleasant and endearing.

Jokingly, being an entity from the World of Gods and Demons, Marvin had intimately experienced all sorts of horrifying, exotic scents over the eons.

For instance, Marvin had once favored the fierce women of the subterranean Goblin race. In the vicious Goblin race, the vast majority of the males were hideously ugly, deformed, and weird. But the females were surprisingly all incredibly petite, and strangely beautiful.

However, because the entire species had lived in dark, damp, muddy underground caves for millions of years, the natural, earthy smell on their bodies was truly hard to describe to a human with a weak stomach.

Yet, Marvin, the Incubus who had been intimately close to them, had not only gone ahead despite the smell, but had conquered many fierce goblin girls, leaving behind an entire army of mixed-race, magical descendants.

This was the true spirit of a Demon of Lust! He appreciated the soul and form, ignoring biological realities.

In the chaotic World of Gods and Demons, the powerful descendants of the Incubus and the massive Dragons are the most numerous across the realms. These two races seem to have no genetic or reproductive isolation from any other magical races—they will breed with anyone to expand their power.

Fortunately, the stable Demons at least possessed high, aristocratic aesthetics and sought out physical beauty. The towering Dragons, however, were completely indiscriminate!

Marvin vividly remembered seeing a massive Dragon mating with a gargantuan swamp crocodile. At that moment, Marvin had almost wanted to gouge out his own eyes.

So, for him, a little bit of nervous sweat on Scarlett’s body was no different from the scent of a natural female body. He knew this beautiful girl was a future global icon.

This was a girl that even a NBA superstar in the future would desperately desire to drink the bathwater of... but would absolutely never, ever obtain!

Scarlett had no idea what was happening on the movie screen. The film had become blurred colors and distant sounds. She had given up trying to follow the story. Instead, she slowly leaned her head against Marvin’s broad shoulder, nuzzling in closer until her soft cheek rested comfortably against the warm fabric of his shirt. Their fingers stayed tightly intertwined on his lap, her smaller hand nestled inside his larger one, thumbs gently stroking each other in slow, absent circles.

She closed her eyes, fully surrendering to the rich, intoxicating scent of his magnetic Incubus aura. It surrounded her like a warm, invisible cloud — clean ozone mixed with something darker, sweeter, and dangerously addictive that made her head feel fuzzy. Every slow breath she took pulled more of that delicious warmth into her lungs, sending pleasant tingles racing down her spine and spreading heat through her entire body.

Her chest rose and fell against his arm with each breath, the soft swell of her breasts gently pressing and rubbing against his bicep through their clothes. The constant, subtle friction made her nipples tighten into sensitive little peaks, sending tiny sparks of pleasure straight to her core. A warm, fluttery ache had settled low in her belly and between her thighs, making her shift slightly in her seat and squeeze her legs together without realizing it.

For the last two hours she had been grinning upward involuntarily, her lips curved in a constant, dreamy smile she couldn’t wipe off her face. She felt giddy, flushed, and strangely excited in a way she had never experienced before. Marvin’s body heat radiated into her side, making her feel safe, protected, and tingly all at once. Every tiny movement caused their thighs to brush together, her hip to press more firmly against his, and their intertwined fingers to tighten with quiet affection.

Marvin glanced down at her with deep nebula-blue eyes, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he felt her relax even more against him. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, letting another subtle wave of his charm wash over her — turning the simple act of cuddling in a dark movie theater into something far more charged and addictive for the young girl beside him.

Scarlett let out a soft sigh, her body melting into his side, lost in the warm closeness and intoxicating scent. When the movie ended and the credits rolled, Scarlett was so dazed by the romantic proximity that as everyone in the theater stood up and applauded the director, she almost didn’t even hear Robert Redford calling the cast to come up on stage.

Thanks only to Marvin’s gentle nudge made her react in time to run down the aisle, her face a brilliant red.

---

Immediately after the premiere concluded and the press dispersed, Marvin invited Scarlett and her mother, Melanie, to a private dinner at a three-star Manhattan restaurant. He paid for the lavish meal. Afterward, he kissed Melanie’s hand, offered Scarlett a lingering hug, and bid them goodbye on the curb. He plans to fly back to Los Angeles the next morning.

On the subway ride back to Long Island, Melanie cornered her daughter in the empty train car.

”Alright, spill it, Scarlett,” Melanie demanded. ”What did you talk about with Marvin alone in that dark theater for three hours today?”

Scarlett stared out the dark window, touching her lips. ”Hee hee.”

”Did you meet anyone else important while walking the carpet with him? Did he introduce you to any studio heads?”

Scarlett twirled her blonde hair around her finger, staring into space. ”Hee hee.”

”Scarlett, look at me. Is your relationship with Marvin actually progressing? Did he try to kiss you? Were his hands wandering? Tell your mother!”

Scarlett hugged her purse to her chest, her eyes glazed over with pure infatuation. ”Hee hee.”

Melanie Sloan sighed, leaning back against the plastic subway seat. Her daughter was hopelessly smitten. Lost in the sauce. She and the Wonder Boy had gotten along famously in the dark, putting the pragmatic Melanie in a triumphant mood.

’He likes her,’ Melanie calculated, weighing the Hollywood leverage this would bring to her family. ’He actually likes her.’

---

Upon returning to Los Angeles the next day, Marvin had Gordon drive him directly to the Miramax post-production facility to oversee the editing process for *The Sixth Sense*.

Stepping out of the elevator into the air-conditioned corridor, he heard M. Night Shyamalan arguing loudly with the lead film editor.

As a new, unproven director, Shyamalan did not have ”final cut” rights written into his standard guild contract. But with the power of the Meyers family standing behind him, Harvey Weinstein had reluctantly given the young director the right to make creative suggestions.

The Shyamalan family’s medical wealth was not involved in funding this movie—a fundamental shift from the original timeline.

Naturally, Marvin would never miss the opportunity to make a mountain of money.

In the corporate structuring of this movie, Marvin’s father, Grant Meyers, had invested $22.5 million of pure liquid capital—utilizing the Zenith Trust’s funds and his own money—securing a 50% investment share of the total gross profits.

The total production investment stood at $45 million. Miramax invested the remaining $22.5 million, which included their studio resource investments. This figure did not count the impending $20 million global publicity and marketing budget Miramax had to front, giving the studio the remaining 50% of the total investment.

Marvin knew the financial math of what he had altered.

In the original timeline, the investment share had been structured differently. The Shyamalan family funds had invested $10 million. Miramax had invested $15 million. Bruce Willis had famously agreed to forgo his standard upfront salary. Instead, he rolled his $14 million salary directly into the backend investment share. He eventually received a staggering return of over $100 million from that single movie, becoming one of the highest-paid actors in film history, tied only with Tom Cruise.

But in *this* timeline? Marvin had no intention of letting Miramax or anyone else walk away with the lion’s share of his intellectual property.

Bruce Willis still received a handsome guaranteed salary and a small percentage of the profit, but the $100-million backend windfall he had enjoyed in the old world vanished. That river of cash now routed directly into the Zenith Trust’s offshore accounts.

*****

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