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Controversial Dance of Star Crossed Partners (Wave and Solo)

WaveVelour

Star
Joined
Jun 26, 2016
In a modestly developed shady part of the city, a pair of hazel eyes stared out through the car window, quietly watching the rather ragged buildings and somber faces she passed by. Hardly the most decent neighborhood to live in, but rents must have been quite affordable at least, especially if one’s business required a spacious office. If truth be told, she had seen a lot worse. Coming from poverty, loneliness where she was abandoned to despair, the young woman had been toughened by the cruelty of backstreets. If it weren’t for the very man behind the wheel who sat next to her, she would have still been scavenging to make a living, in spite of her feisty nature, even might have been captured to be placed in a house of ill repute. A father figure for sure, where she didn’t get to know her own. An adopted daughter, where he lost a son to the profound ambitions for supremacy.

It wasn’t the familiar sight of a shady neighborhood what kept her lippy mouth shut, what puzzled her mind today, but the ultimate destination of this short trip. She respected the old man, definitely owed him a lot. Still, this had been a bold request, asking she helped his infamously big-headed son out, in his twisted journey to notoriety. In a way, it was funny, how much she could hate someone she -in truth- knew so little about. Well, she certainly knew enough to hold an almost imposed detestation. Even if it meant upsetting the man she looked up to, she didn’t shy away from being vocal about her hatred, how much she despised his so-called son. In the end, she had accepted the man’s daring wish, however. Even if it had required quite a bit of convincing. He was a cunning man, Han. Could be quite convincing sometimes. Admittedly, some of his son’s smugness appeared to come from him. And to an extent, maybe some of his charming looks as well.

Junk for some, an underappreciated classic to its owner, the car eventually stopped in front of a five story baroque looking building, a few blocks past the invisible border where the buildings began to look more decent. The rattling of the engine ceased as well, not to disturb the spoken words. “This must be it.” Han announced. Since he wasn’t welcome here, he actually didn’t know how Ben’s base of operations looked from inside. “I’m thankful for this, kid.” His weary eyes found the 19-year-old woman sitting on the passenger seat, gesturing in the direction she had agreed to take. She didn’t seem very intrigued, to be under the same roof with her half-brother. Shaking her head from side to side, she opened the door, still doubtful of her decision.

“He doesn’t even want to use your name.” Above her beady eyes, Rey knitted her brows. It was no secret that in a selfish urge to strike out on his own, Ben had picked a different name for himself. While Rey could have given everything to know more about her past, he seemed to be trying to erase his. A stark contrast between the two, one of many in fact.

“Give him time.” Unable to find the will to use a witty comment to soften the mood, Han suggested. “Be patient. Wait for the best opportunity.” Further guidance rang in the woman’s ears, who stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her as a response.

“I know all about waiting, don’t I?” Leaking into the vehicle through the open window, her voice filled the interior, carrying the hints of a resentful complaint. In terms of how she treated those whom she detested, her emotions shaped her actions, all the while she remained loyal and kindly towards friends and loved ones. Leaning in, Rey flashed a smile still, one she wore quite nicely as her optimistic nature reflected upon her tender lips. “I’ll manage.” She claimed. “In my own way.”

Swiftly turning around, Rey entered the building. A pair of unassuming dark pants and a white blouse loosely covered her figure. Features of her slim form didn’t have a hypnotic sway to them as she moved, however they stood upright and confident like she did. A compact, agile body that could fit into narrow spaces, sought after qualifications in a magician’s assistant. She perhaps didn’t have a physically imposing form, but a stubborn spirit dwelled under her toned skin. Firm legs climbed up the stairs to stand on the relevant floor. Now only a door to separate her from her half-brother, she clenched her fist. “This is a mistake.” A snort of frustration was exhaled out through her nostrils. For a girl of her build, the few knocks on the door were firm and aloud. To prevent a surprise, Han would have told his quick-tampered son of Rey’s imminent visit, if he had been still talking with him that is.
 
Sitting in the back row of the theater, in the far-left wing, directly below a balcony—one of the worst seats, statistically, so the best vantage point for him to judge from; if a show was good from there, it would be good from anywhere—the tall, brooding man dressed in all black rubbed at his temples with two fingers on each side, willing the developing migraine to subside. Awake at sunrise, he had endured a long day of amateurs and outright morons—one had even set himself on fire, and had almost taken the building down with him—and judging by his clipboard, he had… twelve more before he could judge his idea as stupid with finality and go on to continue trying to work a solo show before his next performance.
The fact of the matter was, people wanted things more and more extravagant as the days went by, and while he had innate talent—his shows as Kylo Ren wouldn’t have granted him the moderate success he enjoyed if he hadn’t—it wasn’t enough to skate by on, not any longer. The crowds demanded to be dazzled, and though he managed to finagle enough to keep their money coming, he wasn’t wowing anyone anymore. That was what he had lived for, ever since he was a little kid providing that sense of wonder for his father, and without it, his choice in career was worthless. If he couldn’t impress someone, what was he but a hack? Anyone could make money from something if they worked at it hard enough. It took true talent to consistently amaze.
And if he was chasing the approval of strangers because he knew, deep down, that he couldn’t gain the approval of his parents, well, that was his own damned business.
The son of famed magician Han Solo—known mainly for his stunt driving involving the horrendous bucket of bolts he called the Falcon, though he also had a long run of trick shots with a cork gun that seemed to defy physics—and renowned politician Leia Organa, he’d been in the public eye since before he could walk, learning the basics of magic from his father by the time he was in elementary school. It didn’t lead to him being very popular amongst his classmates, but every talent show there was, he won with flying colors, becoming addicted to the sparkle in the crowd’s eyes as he pulled off his latest trick. Inventive and confident, he commanded the stage in a way fully reminiscent of his father, but his career had taken a dark turn when instead of going his father’s route of wanting to entertain the crowd, he mentored under Alistair Snoke, and became addicted to the power of seeing the crowd eat out of his hand.
Needless to say, it hadn’t gone well. After a public fallout that led to him losing his entire stage crew, he’d used the last of his savings to strike out on his own, purchasing the Upsilon theater from its aging owner and turning it into his personal playhouse. Shows were three times a week, and while tickets were still selling, performing had lost its shine… hence his decision to attempt to hire an assistant.
The only problem with his decision? Everyone that came to him was terrible.
“No, no,” he drawled, his voice booming in the nearly-empty theater. “No more.” The young, skinny teenager on stage’s lip wobbled as he hung his head and stepped off stage. Sighing heavily, Ben shook his head and stood. “We’re done for today. All other applicants can return tomorrow.” With that, he stormed from the seating area and around to his dressing room, palms planted firmly on the dressing table in front of the large, lit-up mirror. Leaning over, his head bent towards its surface, he slammed a large palm down in frustration before bringing it up to run through unruly dark hair.
And then, there was a knock at his door.
Whipping to face it, his face scrunched up in confusion. Who would be visiting him? After a moment of debating, he had a flash of thought—it must be someone just dying for an audition, and if he would just give them a chance, he’d see how talented they are… He’d heard it all before. Teeth ground together in anger, he yanked the door open to face them.
“What?” he snapped, voice low and gravelly. “I said auditions. Are. Done. If you even want a chance at trying tomorrow, you’ll turn around and go back the way you came.”
 
Convincing her inner voice to neglect the sensible action of simply turning down her father figure’s bold request, accepting the challenge of working for someone whom she despised so much: It had been neither easy, nor quick for the woman. Hence, making it in time to the audition wasn’t necessarily her biggest concern. Although she was hardly enthusiastic about squaring the circle by playing the part of a magician’s assistant, she had already made up her mind, that she would keep her word. So, she was indeed determined to get the job, although she saw it more of favour. Cursed with an unyielding obstinacy, she was tenacious to uphold her decision, regardless of what kind of terror she would be voluntarily throwing herself into. Preventing potentially more qualified candidates from getting the job with the aid of a somewhat outside interference, it could have seen as an immoral exercise. However, she saw it as doing them a favour, sparing them the poorly confined onslaught of Han’s notorious son.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could hear the restless thuds of the approaching menace’s heavy steps through the closed door of the place. She was no pessimist, but hoping to find a surprise hospitality within these walls would have been an unrealistic conjecture in this case. Yet, it wasn’t the breeze of a roar what brushed her slim frame when the new owner of the theatre opened the door, but a rather frustrated scolding, exhaustion of failure if she were to guess. Maybe it wasn’t a noisy clamour, but to the woman at the entrance, it wasn’t any different from the concerning whistle of a burning dynamite fuse either. Clad in black, a shadow with a face. A broad man for sure, hard to fit through doorways, if one were to exaggerate his burly physique a little. With a demeanour that, at first glance, seemed to consist of a dangerous mix of depression and subtle anger, he must have been none other than Ben himself.

No matter how demanding, mere words of immediate rejection wouldn’t be enough to make her walk back. Hearing the clearly uttered words of the man quite well, Rey didn’t turn back, insisting her face remained in his sight and not the view of her fit hips moving away from the entrance. If she had randomly stumbled upon Ben, she wouldn’t have identified him as Han’s boy. After all, she only knew him by reputation, and not necessarily a great one at that. Having an overconfident gaze looking down on her without recognition didn’t surprise the woman. She would indeed return tomorrow, as his assistant, however. Albeit inexperienced in the show business, she would consider herself to be a quick learner. Han was a smart man as well, must have had something in mind when sending her here. In the arguable belief that he still knew his son well enough, he had given her some advice as well. Like how she shouldn’t outright tell her name to his son, or that she should avoid mentioning his at the same time.

“I’m Rey.” The woman offered a brief introduction of herself, not entirely sure if it would ring a bell. “Yes, you’re done. I’ll be your assistant.” Rey stepped in closer towards him, trying not to break eye contact with the towering magician in black. “Han sent me.” She continued, standing upright, her honesty in place. “Here I am.” It was no mystery that her abrupt appearance wouldn’t make Ben all that cheerful. Rey spent a moment to let her eyes inspect the adamant figure who blocked her path in. “If you want to debate about it, I’d prefer to do it inside.” She mentioned her wish to set foot in his workplace. Standing 5′6″ tall in the door frame, her assured gaze kept penetrating Ben’s eyes. “Or you could slam the door and see if that would make me jump back.” She dared in a small demonstration of courage.
 
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