Hell's Actor-Chapter 53: Péché

Overlooking the dazzling night of Paris was an establishment called Péché Culinaire, a Michelin restaurant mostly frequented by celebrities.

Considered one of the best places to visit in Paris, it often served foreign filmmakers and film stars alike.

The several autographs on the wall confirmed that.

In this glamorously sinful place of gluttony, two important figures from the French film industry were having dinner at a table by the glass window.

"I tried calling, but he doesn’t pick up," the lady said, separating the lamb from the bone. "He was always whimsical, but where has he gone now?"

She wore a fancy black dinner gown, and her hair was done immaculately.

Her style and her looks were reminiscent of the early actresses.

If one had to describe the modern nobility, they would most likely point at her.

Across her sat an older gentleman. He was thin and bald.

He wore brown suspenders over his pressed white shirt, and his golden-rimmed, round glasses had almost become one with his pensive face.

He had an air of ingenuity about him.

In silence, they enjoyed their lamb.

"I heard something recently..." the middle-aged woman cautiously began. "Is it true?"

"If you heard it, Margaux—then, it must be true."

"I understand if you would rather not admit... Is it true that your latest script was rejected by all of the major studios?"

The bald gentleman looked straight at the woman.

"Yes."

Cinders of a hopeless determination were still visible in his sapphire pupils.

"It will be an arthouse film."

As the scene faded, Averie violently jerked awake from his sleep.

His body convulsed as if he had a seizure. Breathing rough, he frantically looked around.

He was in his room. The door was locked, and nothing looked out of order.

The calming sound of the wind blowing through his curtains was all that disturbed the peace.

’What was that?’ He tried to recall the vision. ’A dream?’

He picked up the phone, which he had dropped to the floor in his sleep.

It was early morning, 4:37 a.m.

’It’s hot.’

His body was drenched in sweat from head to toe, and the tattoo on his chest was burning intensely.

’What kind of gift hurts this much, Lucifer?’

Until now, the tattoo hadn’t reacted one bit to any sort of stimulus.

’Did this gift just show me that vision?’ He wiped his face. ’Who were those two? Why show them of all people?’

He groaned, rubbing his burning chest.

’Am I overthinking it? Was it just a dream?’

"Nah, couldn’t be."

He got up, washed his face, and looked himself in the mirror.

He looked no different than usual.

’I am still Averie Quinn Auclair.’

Pulling up his t-shirt revealed another surprise.

"What did you do, Lucifer?" Averie muttered.

The sinister tattoo was emitting equally sinister black flames.

It was on fire—literally.

Averie cautiously touched it, but it did not burn his finger. It didn’t even tingle.

Out of curiosity, he searched the internet for a film actress by the name of Margaux.

’There are too many of those in the French film industry...’

He looked through all of them, but he could not tell which one was his Margaux.

’Why is that?’

He could clearly remember the face of the man sitting across from her but not her.

’The man’s name did not come up once in the dream.’

The bald man’s remarkable face was burned in his memory, so nothing was wrong with his memory.

But when it came to the woman, he had a hard time recalling the details of her face. Yet he was very familiar with her voice. Her fluttering emotions were as if they were his own.

’Did I even see her face?’

Yes, he did.

At first, he believed he had not, but he certainly had.

He had seen her in the reflection of her knife.

’Did I...’

Hairs stood up on Averie’s body.

He could remember the scent of her perfume. He could remember the taste of the lamb. And he could remember the sweetness of the wine.

’Did I experience the vision through her?’

He looked up the time zones.

’It must be around 9:30 in Paris.’

"Is this your idea of a gift, Lucifer?"

’For a brief while, did I perhaps live someone else’s life?’

It was as if, for a moment, he had peeked into the head of another person.

Averie had no idea how it worked or if it could be considered a gift.

’I wasn’t the one controlling her body, that much I know.’

He had experienced all sorts of things in Hell, but this was still surreal.

"This is weird, man."

For a brief moment, he was inside another living being’s head.

And it was someone from across the vast seas.

***

Averie was sitting across a pair of smiling executives from the drama department of QTM, one of the four major networks in the country.

"We are so glad you decided to accept our offer for the cameo, Mr. Auclair."

Averie gave them a simple smile and a nod.

Hyerin had sternly instructed him not to open his mouth. She was willing to do all the talking.

"We were delighted to receive the offer," she replied. "Mr. Auclair is very selective about his projects, so I was glad to see him pick your proposal, cameo though it may be."

"Oh?" One of them adjusted his glasses. "Well, if Mr. Auclair is interested, we could make him a permanent character on the show."

A vein popped on Averie’s forehead.

’Don’t push it, now.’

He glared at Hyerin.

’Can I open my mouth?’

Horrified, Hyerin quickly scrambled to get the situation under control.

"Oh, it’s a pity," — She clasped her hands on the table — "but we will have to waste that opportunity. Mr. Auclair is exhausted and frankly quite busy because of his hectic schedule."

That was an utter lie.

Since his return from Tokyo, Averie had spent most of his time lounging around, playing mobile games, and making fun of people online.

"What a pity."

As the talks continued, a graceful waitress approached the table.

"Are we ready to order?"

Averie observed her through the corner of his eye.

’She is good at acting composed,’ he thought.

She was feeling a lot more excited than she let on.

In fact, he had seen her whispering with the other waitresses just a while ago.

They were peeking at him from behind the wall, blushing and giggling.

They had even played rock, paper, scissors to decide who’d take his order.

And even now, her glance naturally drifted towards him.

The only thing discouraging her from leering at him was his bored stare.

Seeing her, Averie had an idea.

It was true that Hyerin had told him to keep his mouth shut while meeting the executives for the guest appearance.

’But she didn’t say anything about the waitress.’

He tried to suppress his grin.

’Fun.’

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