….
[LIE Studios | Private Reading Room]
Table reads were an essential part of the Hollywood machinery, usually involving a crowded room filled with the entire cast.
But today, the private reading room on the third floor of LIE Studios was almost entirely empty.
There were only three chairs arranged around the center table.
This was Regal's choice.
The first chapter of [The Dark Knight], directed by Fede Álvarez, had laid the sprawling, physical, and mythic groundwork for Bruce Wayne's transformation.
But the second chapter, which Regal was directing himself, was an entirely different beast.
It was a claustrophobic, psychological war that rested squarely on the shoulders of just two characters.
The unstoppable force and the immovable object.
Christian Isaac, the man tasked with bringing the immovable object to life, was already present, sitting across from Regal.
Over the past four months of pre-production, tactical choreography, and intense filming, the two had developed a comfortable, grounded dynamic.
Christian was a genuine superstar, the former Black Ranger whose presence alone commanded authority.
But right now, that authority was laced with a very specific, undeniable jealousy.
"I watched it again last night." Christian said, leaning back in his chair, swirling a cup of black coffee. "And I am not going to lie, Regal. I am jealous. Genuinely, bitterly jealous."
Regal, who had been reviewing a few marginal notes on his script, didn't look up immediately. "Watched what?"
"John Wick." Christian stated flatly.
Regal finally raised an eye, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"It is a masterpiece of violence." Christian continued, shaking his head in sheer disbelief. "But that isn't why I am jealous. I am fortunate to be cast as Batman. It is the role of a lifetime, built with integrity and a terrifying level of intensity. I know the scope of what we are doing here."
He paused, tapping his fingers against the table. "But John Wick is different. You broke your own rules for him."
Regal set his pen down, fully giving Christian his attention.
"In every film you write, you give gravity to the side cast." Christian explained, his tone shifting into an analytical gear. "Your scripts are structured so that other characters have the scope to perform, rather than just being props for the protagonist. It is what makes your worlds feel lived-in and real."
He leaned forward, locking eyes with Regal. "But John Wick? That whole film is carried on the shoulders of a single person. Keanu Reeves is the entire movie. You wrote an entire world from the ground up just to showcase exactly what he is capable of doing."
Christian exhaled, a self-deprecating smile crossing his face. "I agree with your usual ensemble format. It makes the film work as a whole. But as an actor? To be cast by the best director in Hollywood in a film written solely to be your stage? That is enough to make any superstar in this industry sick with envy."
Regal watched him, recognizing the raw honesty in Christian's words.
"I know it won't happen again." Christian added, the bitter taste of that realization evident in his voice. "It was a one-time departure from your format. And it just shows how much you revere Keanu as an actor, and as a friend."
Christian nodded slowly, accepting it, before suddenly shifting his tone and complaining directly. "Still, I have to ask... why couldn't you have chosen me for something like that?"
Regal chuckled, a genuine, relaxed sound. "Because you are Bruce Wayne. And frankly, Christian, you don't need a solo stage to prove your gravity. You are about to share the screen with a hurricane, and I need you to be the wall it breaks against."
Christian smiled, the tension easing into mutual respect.
He knew Regal was right.
The second chapter of this film would revolve around a dynamic that required absolute parity between the hero and the villain.
Before Christian could respond, the heavy soundproof door clicked open.
The easy atmosphere in the room instantly evaporated.
Darren Hayes walked in.
Christian's breath hitched, and he instinctively sat up straighter.
To say Darren looked different would be a catastrophic understatement.
The man who had been Regal's line producer, the guy who coordinated budgets and wrangled contractors for seven years, was completely gone.
Darren had lost a dangerous amount of weight.
His cheekbones jutted out sharply against pale, almost translucent skin, and his hair was greasy and unkempt, his posture slightly hunched but thrumming with an erratic, wired energy.
Dark, bruised circles framed his eyes that darted around the room with a manic, unsettling hyper-awareness.
For the past three months, Darren had secluded himself in his apartment.
He had completely cut off contact with the outside world, refusing to speak to anyone, immersing himself in diaries, disturbing imagery, and the darkest corners of human psychology.
He was trying to get into the deep, terrifying skin of the Joker.
Regal watched Darren take the third seat, his own expression masking a deep, lingering concern.
When he had offered Darren the role as an act of friendship and compromise, he had been intrigued when he proposed this extreme method of preparation.
It was the exact same method the original actor, Heath Ledger, had famously utilized in Regal's past world.
But Regal also knew the devastating consequences of such absolute, consuming passion for a role.
…and the tragic lengths an actor could go to when they let a monster live inside their head for too long.
So, Regal had not agreed to it fully.
He had allowed the isolation, but with strict, non-negotiable boundaries and mandated a discreet but highly qualified psychiatrist to monitor Darren's mental state bi-weekly.
Furthermore, Regal himself had made occasional, unannounced visits to Darren's flat, not as a director, but as a friend ensuring that the man he had known since university hadn't completely lost his tether to reality.
Darren didn't look at Christian or even spare more than a brief glance toward Regal.
He simply sat down, his hands resting on his thighs, his fingers twitching in a slow, arrhythmic tap.
"Hello, Darren." Regal said quietly, his voice a tether thrown into the dark.
Darren's head tilted slightly.
A slow, unnerving smile stretched across his gaunt face. It didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, Boss."
The voice was slightly raspy, pitched higher than Darren's natural register, carrying a chilling, unpredictable cadence.
Christian felt a cold bead of sweat roll down his spine.
He had acted opposite legendary villains and massive CGI monsters in his career, but sitting across from this raw, fractured human being felt infinitely more dangerous.
The pressure in the small room was suddenly suffocating.
"Christian." Regal said, not breaking eye contact with Darren. "Meet your other half."
Christian swallowed hard, extending a hand across the table. "Darren. Good to see you."
Darren looked at the extended hand for a long, agonizing second.
Then, he let out a short, breathy giggle, a sound that made the hairs on Christian's arms stand up, before lazily reaching out and shaking it.
His grip was surprisingly weak, yet somehow felt like a threat.
"Oh, it's going to be a magic trick." Darren whispered, his eyes finally flicking up to meet Christian's.
The absolute void in his stare was paralyzing. "We are going to have so much fun."
Regal opened his script, the thick document that held the weight of a philosophical war.
He looked at his two actors and the superstar who carried the weight of the world, and the friend who was currently letting the world burn inside his own mind.
"Page one hundred and fourteen." Regal commanded softly, the absolute authority of his World-Class skill settling over the room. "The interrogation room. Let's see what you both have."
As the reading session began, Regal pulled up the interface, his eyes instantly tracking the updated data floating before him.
….
This is the current skill of Darren when Regal checked out.
===
[Name:] Darren Hayes
[Acting Grade:] B+ → -A
[Traits:] Resilient, Loyal, Deeply Observant
[Unique Skill:] Technical Acting(New!)
….
Technical Acting : This approach emphasizes physicality, voice, and precision rather than emotional truth.
===
Regal stared at the prompt, genuinely surprised. He didn't know how in the world it had happened, but Darren had managed to manifest a passive unique skill out of nowhere.
Not to mention, his overall acting grade had officially breached the A-tier threshold.
But looking closer, a profound sense of relief washed over Regal.
This was precisely why he didn't have to worry about Darren slipping into a dangerous psychological abyss. What Darren had developed wasn't a reckless form of method acting.
It was pure, clinical technique.
He wasn't letting the character's toxic emotions hijack his own mind or blindly ride the scene.
Instead, every single twitch of his jaw, every eerie shift in his posture, and every vocal cadence was a completely conscious, deliberate choice.
He was building a monster from the outside in, piece by mechanical piece.
"That was perfect, Darren." Regal finally said, his voice carrying a calm, grounding warmth meant to pull his friend back from the edge. "But remember the boundaries we set. When you step out of this room, you leave him here. Understood?"
Darren looked up, his eyes tired but lucid. He offered a faint, genuine smile that actually belonged to him. "Understood, boss. I am... I am still here."
Regal poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the center of the table and slid it across to him. "Drink."
Christian, who had been sitting in stunned silence, finally let out a long, heavy exhale. He slumped back into his chair, rubbing his face.
He looked at Darren, then turned his gaze to Regal.
"I take it back." Christian said, his voice rough.
Regal raised a brow. "Take what back?"
"Being jealous of Keanu." Christian chuckled, though there was a nervous edge to it. "If I had to carry this film by myself, I wouldn't survive it. I completely understand what you meant earlier. I absolutely need to be the wall, because if I don't hold my ground, he is going to run right over me."
Darren let out a very normal, very non-Joker sigh, taking a long drink of the water. "You're telling me. I feel like I just ran a marathon inside my own head."
Christian leaned forward, resting his forearms heavily on the table. He looked at Darren with profound, unblinking respect. "How long have you been in that headspace? Because when you leaned across the table just now… my heart rate actually spiked for real."
"Around three months." Darren muttered, rubbing his pale, hollowed-out cheeks. "I had to seclude myself completely. I'm pretty sure Simon hates me right now. He called me a few days ago, and I think I unsettled him so much he just hung up on me."
He paused, a dark, fleeting amusement playing at the edge of his lips. "And I am fairly certain I terrified one of the staff member when I gave my unofficial 'audition' inside Keanu's caravan."
Regal smirked faintly, recalling the frantic message he'd received from the crew. "Nah… don't worry about Copper. According to Azari, the kid was just trying to bring you a glass of water."
Darren managed a weak, exhausted laugh. "Right. Poor kid looked like he had seen a ghost."
Christian laughed, leaning back in his chair. "I don't know the exact context, but I can vividly guess what kind of face he made."
Regal watched them, closing the thick script and tapping it once against the table.
The chemistry, tension, and mutual respect, it was all perfectly aligned.
"Get some sleep, both of you." Regal commanded softly, standing up from his chair. "Tomorrow, the cameras roll."
.
….
[To be continued…]
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