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DisCity Classified - Levy
The desire hunter who plays the fool
Part 1 - Ambush
This is just another ordinary Eastside banquet. Nothing is new.
Amid the clinking of glasses, some are plotting their schemes, some are chasing after fame and wealth. Some luxuriate in the surrounding attention, while some are cast aside with their stiffening smiles.
Much like in a colosseum, those in power sit in the lofty VIP booths, sharing their box office forecast for the next quarter and talking about their new productions while peering down at the "products" on display in the hall. Meanwhile, the products are competing to show off their feathers, praying for a chance amid the waves of fake smiles and schemes.
Lamar Shaw sits alone in a corner of the banquet. Laughably, he's left out by the gleeful chatter and laughter in the hall. Even the servers passing by with the drink trays don't bother to check on him.
He's invested a lot of effort into getting an invitation to this banquet from his manager, nearly exhausting all the contacts he's collected in the past year. His original plan was to show off his enviable social skills and network with some A-listers and producers in the hope of landing a gig. But he's realized he's made a mistake.
He has tasted fame. At six, he was cast by a producer at Merville Entertainment to star in Home On My Own. He became a household name and struck gold after making three movies for the series. Shaw was twelve when the producer committed suicide after the exposure of his sex scandal, and Shaw's stardom has since dimmed. Lacking financial acumen, Shaw has used up his savings from childhood and is even troubled by debts now.
Now, he's thirty. Everyone here is younger, has more connections, and can be even more desperate than him... Not a single person cares about him. Coming here is a total mistake.
As he thinks that, Shaw grips his dress pants tightly, then suddenly lets go fearfully like he's reminded of something, soothing that faint crease on the fabric nervously.
"Hey, there's a freak show going on there, and here you're just drinking alone. How poetic."
A man in an eye-catching fur coat paired with a gaudy shirt underneath has sat down beside Shaw and is greeting him in a tone that can be perceived as either relaxed or frivolous.
"Which company are you from?"
Taken aback, Shaw scans the other man up and down quickly. Twenty-something with a flamboyant fashion taste, topped with those funny sunglasses and that frivolous smile... Yes, that's a fop right there.
But Shaw is prudent enough not to mess with even a trust fund baby like this one. He squeezes out a smile and asks carefully.
