The Chameleon’s Shadow - Short Story

He’s staring at the ceiling above him, his head propped up on the couch by a small pillow, his feet resting on the opposite arm. The room is dark and brown, adorned with old bookshelves and wooden desks. A man sits adjacent to him, in a sturdy maroon colored chair. The man in the chair is considerably older, equal amounts of hair in his beard as there are on his head, a pair of eye-glasses sit on his nose just above his grey mustache.

“So when did this start?” The older man asks.

“I’d say it started a month or two after I moved here”. The younger man answers.

“About a year ago then?”

“Yes. It started a year ago.”

“Alright Jack, lets start there.”

Jack readjusts his positioning, shifting his back higher up the arm of the couch so he’s more upright. His legs still resting atop the arm of the couch; he is of an average build, with an athletic leanness to him. His hair is trimmed tight on the sides with a gradual build to longer hair on top. His dark brown eyes stare up at the ceiling. There is restlessness present in his gaze, it is not overtly present, but it is there, lingering and weighing on his mind, uneasy he is.

“Again, I know this sounds crazy.”

“I know Jack. Just relax, there’s no judgement.”

“I just want you to know I’m aware how this will sound.”

“That’s why I’m here. Just let it out.”

“Okay.” He says shutting his eyes.

His apartment is scant, serviceable as it may be for someone on a low-budget like he is. The barren interior is evident of a recently moved resident, but the dull décor is in need of an awakening, one that Jack hopes will grow with his career. A square nook in the corner for his kitchen. The half-wall separating it from the living room doubles as a countertop. He has a circular wooden table unfolded next to the wall. It has two chairs around it, although only one has been used. An old sofa he was able to pay a few bucks for sits across from his T.V screen. The inability to pay for the services renders the T.V useless for now, until that optimistic awakening occurs. Just to the right of the sofa, behind a short turn in the walls is a Jack’s bedroom space. He’s thought about purchasing one of those thin dividers to pretend it’s a different room, but for now he holds off on such a luxury. Jack is maneuvering his mattress along the floor trying to find the optimal spot to maximize his space, an act he often undertakes. He doesn’t mind the mundane somewhat pointless work, he’s just happy to have a mattress. He spent his first few weeks sleeping on the floor, it didn’t bother him as much as he thought, the carpet provided adequate cushion for his back and he felt a satisfying comfort he didn’t expect. It also provided him some work to fill the time between auditions. If he wasn’t changing his living space he’d be found walking the streets, exploring his new surroundings. He’s heard the moniker that “nobody walks in Los Angeles” but he feels immune to that, as he is new to the city he feels like a “nobody”, so it fits. Earlier in the morning it was raining but as he peers out the window now he sees that the sun has broken through, he’ll walk today as well. After a few more minutes shifting the mattress around, Jack is comfortable with its final resting place, for now at least. He exits his apartment and makes his way down the staircase. As Jack is walking out he recognizes one of his neighbors.

“Good morning Mr. Draco.” Jack says with a smile.

“Oh it’s you again, busy morning for you is it?”

“Um, yeah I mean with the new place there’s been a lot of work, I’m just trying to get everything settled.”

“Well I certainly understand that. Keep working hard! It’s good to see you again, good day!” Mr. Draco shouts cheerfully as he enters the building.

Jack smiles and waves him by, he shrugs and begins to chuckle, it seemed as though the old man thought he’d already seen me today he thinks to himself. His smile turns to worry as he makes his way out the door. That’s something he has wondered to himself before, wondering if his similarity in looks would be a hindrance to the audition he’s about to attend, or every audition. He always feared he was too average to ever be noticed, and with Mr. Draco thinking he saw him today that only enforces this fear.

“So this was a fear?” The old man in the chair cuts in to Jack’s story.

“Yes, of course it was.”

“Why do you say of course?”

Jack tilts his head back, trying to look directly at the man.

“Because there’s probably a thousand people who look just like me, which means that there is a thousand people going for the same parts as me. Of those thousand there’s a ton who are more experienced. That’s a tough thing to figure out.”

“Figure out what?”

“Figure out what makes you different.” Jack answers.

He has been waiting well over two hours, or maybe it was three, he got there early to find a seat in the room. A veteran move he learned from the auditions before this one, it proved effective this time as the room has filled with people and now overflowed into the hallway. It’s full of young actors practicing their lines. They are all dressed alike as the rules stated: black shirt and jeans. The negative thought emerges again. They all look like me, not just the clothes, similar heights and similar weight; even the hair is like mine, how am I going to do this?

He shields his worrisome face with a piece of paper, head down from the people, staring at it but not actually reading, he’s already memorized his lines, that’s not why he’s worried.

I need to find something, I need to find a way to be different.

The nerves mount with each passing moment. His worried thoughts are cut off as his name is called.

“Jack Sterling!” A lady opens the door and yells into the room.

Jack raises his hand and rises from his chair. He takes a deep breath and walks confidently towards the woman.

She greets him with a warm smile, “Follow me please.”

Jack strolls into the room confident and calm, he feels a soothing ease, mere moments ago he was a nervous and edgy, but that feels like years ago to him now. The presence of the people behind the table do not worry him, he confidently steps up to the designated spot.

The streets are drenched with sunlight; the buildings around him have been bleached white by the rays of sunshine. The only darkness is the shadow casted on jacks phone, his head is down as he walks along the street, texting his mom about the audition he was just at.

“It was ok.”

“Just ok?”

“I just think I could have done better. Hopefully I was good enough.”

“I’m sure you were fine, you always are your toughest critic.”

Jack smiles at the last part before placing his phone in his pocket and finally looking up to observe the beautiful sky.

The weather here is amazing. He thinks, trying to shift his thoughts, but only briefly. Man, I really hope I get this part.

He crosses the street to his apartment, just reaching inside in time to evade passing water drops from the sky.

“And did you get it?” The old man asks, shifting forward in his chair.

“Well that’s when things really started.”

“It started when you got this part?”

“It was…” Jack struggles to find the remaining words, “Yes, it really started to pick up at this point.” He leans back and closes his eyes again. “This was the day I really noticed this feeling, it was strange, made me uneasy. When I got back I went upstairs and laid on my bed, frustrated from the audition. I replayed it in my head many times, each time I found something else I could have done better, it was agonizing. It started raining again so I decided to take a nap hoping to clear my head. When I woke up it was night-time and I slept several hours, even had this recurring dream of mine.”

“A recurring dream?”

“Yes, it’s happened to me before.”

“What happens?” The old man readies his pen against his notepad.

“When it starts I’m in the woods, I can hear the noise of something above me, it sounds like a helicopter. Whenever I move there's a strong light on me, well not directly on me, but just behind me. I’m doing my best to avoid this light, for what reason I don’t know. When sprint out of the woods, the light trails behind, I can feel the cold grass beneath my feet. Ahead of me is a fence, For some reason I sprint toward it and just before I reach it, I jump, clearing this fence easily. Landing on the other side I’m met with the same fence ahead of me, but jumping again clears it with ease. This goes on a few more times, with the light still close behind.”

“How does it end?”

“When I clear the final fence, lights shine into my eyes, I can’t see in front of me. I hear noise to my left, I can’t make out what it is but I move towards it. It gets louder and louder but I keep moving towards it. Then just like that, I wake up.”

The old man sits back in his chair. “And what do you think this means?”

Jack takes a moment to think, “ I don’t know. Isn’t that part of your job?”

“When you walk towards this noise, are you afraid?”

“Yeah, I guess so. But I’m drawn to it for some reason.”

“Like you have no control over yourself?”

“Yes, it’s like it’s pulling me in. Like something or someone is pushing me.”

The old man scribbles something on his notepad, “That feeling of being pulled or pushed, it is the same as the uneasy feeling you’ve been having?”

“Is that a statement or a question?”

“You tell me.” The man responds.

“It felt like I had no control over either of them.” Jack answers simply.

Jack peers out his window to see that the rain has stopped. The night is clear and quiet. He quickly reaches for his phone. There are no messages, an unwarranted sense of excitement gone.

Why would there be? It takes longer than a few hours to decide an audition, doesn’t it?

He shakes these thoughts off and gets dressed. He’s gotten familiar with a local pub nearby, Quincy’s. It’s been one of the only constants in his life thus far, perhaps why he frequents it so much.

Inside Jack is seated at the bar, high up on a comfortable stool.

“Another?”

Jack nods in the affirmative, the bartender pours a dark, thick foaming beer, and places it next to the half eaten plates of food. Jack takes a refreshing sip.

“How’d it go today?” Asks the friendly bartender.

“I wish I knew.” Jack grumbles back.

The bartender smirks, “Well, just stay positive. Big breaks can come at anytime”

Jack shrugs his shoulders, nodding politely for the optimism. The bartender shuffles over to serve other patrons, Jack smirks at the thought of the bartender being one of the few friends Jack has in LA, well close to a friend at least.

And this stout, always there by my side.

A tap on his shoulder breaks him from his thoughts; Jack notices he was staring at his beer for an unusual amount of time.

“Is that any good?” Asks a blonde haired girl.

“It has a strong flavor, but you get used to it.”

“And you’re used to it?”

“I’ve had a few”. He faintly smiles, unexpectedly receiving one in return.

“I’ll have one of those.” The girl calls to the bartender, she pulls out the stool next to him and sits, her long blonde hair sways back and forth, brushing against Jacks shoulder.

“What’s your name?”

“Jack.”

“Nice to meet you Jack. I’m Summer.” She says batting her calm blue eyes.

Summer, of course her name would be Summer.

The bartender places the beer in front of her; she raises her glass to his.

“To trying new things.”

They clink cheers and Summer takes a sip. Jack tries not to pay attention but he is curious about her reaction. Summer purses her lips, tilting her head side to side.

“Eh, I guess it takes some getting used to.”

“Well, to each their own” Jack says shrugging his shoulders.

Making herself comfortable, Summer slides off her black leather jacket, unearthing her tan shoulders, bronzed from hours under the southern California sun.

“So, I guess I’ll just have to sit here and see how long that takes.” She says with another smile at Jack.

Jack raises his glass, “I’ll cheers to that.”

A tired Jack stumbles through his apartment, a few steps to his bed; he flops down, letting out a big exhale and falling asleep. Beside him, raindrops run down his bedroom window.

Two days have passed since Jack’s audition, the familiar worry emerges once more, and he knows it’s still early, but inexplicably he feels a strong connection, that maybe he will get it.

Maybe this is the big break.

The bland bowl of cereal before him quells the exciting thoughts within his head. His cell phone rings, quickly answering before even checking who it is.

“Hello?” He says excitedly.

“Jack, you got it.”

“I got it?” “They loved you, they loved how assertive, how confident, above all they loved how comfortable you were.”

Jack is silent.

“Speechless. I get it. I have to admit I was too.”

“Yeah, that’s great” He responds flatly.

“You’re damn right it’s great!” His agent continues, “You need to come down to the office, go over some stuff, sign a few things, and well get this going, sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great.” He responds, too excited to even show it.

The phone call ends. Jack paces around his apartment.

I got it? … I got it. I can’t believe I actually got it.

His surprise conflicts with his earlier hopefulness he felt prior to the call, the prophetic “big break” he imagined.

“Why were you so surprised you got it?” The old man asks.

“It was a big deal. It’s a big movie.”

“No not that. You said you felt a connection that you would get it. So why were you so surprised?”

Jack shakes his head, “Look I don’t know, this was what I’m trying to say. A lot of things started to feel different at this time.”

“Different how?”

“I’m getting to that.” An agitated Jack answers.

Jack grabs his jacket and heads for the door. His phone buzzes again, a message reads:

“Hey :)”

He stops, unfamiliar with the number on the screen, the texts continue.

“I guess you win the waiting game..”

Jack ignores it and heads out the door. At the bottom of the stairs he sees Mr Draco.

“Well look who it is.” Mr Draco says with a wry smile. “You had yourself some night last night didn’t ya?”

“Uh yeah, had a few too many I guess.”

“Or maybe you had just the right amount?” He says raising his eyebrows and grinning.

“Um-“

“Okay I get it, you don’t want to talk about it. No need to be embarrassed though. We’re all human and have human needs.” Draco says with a wink.

“I got to go.” Jack says awkwardly, hurrying out the door. Mr. Draco mockingly salutes him.

Jack zips up his jacket, his agent’s office is walking distance, well walking distance for him that is. Luckily the rain has stopped so walking is an easy decision. His phone buzzes again.

“What are you doing today?” The mystery number asks. “Want to hang out?”

“Who is this?” Jack texts back.

“Ughhhh. Wow.” The next text reads. “Summer.”

Jacks eyes squint in reflection. Summer? I don’t even remember giving her my number.

“So this was the first real instance? Where you had an experience and knew that something was up?” The old man with the glasses asks.

“Yes. This was really the first moment.” Jack responds.

“You didn’t remember coming home that night?”

“I did. I just went to sleep, that’s all.”

“But-”

“Well yeah, I’m telling you what I remember.”

The old man scribbles on his notepad.

“And from this point on you noticed it more?”

“It was everyday.”

“And what did you do?”

“I went with it. What else was I going to do?”

“But did you tell anyone about it?”

“Who would ever believe me?”

“Do you think you tried to protect it? Because, it was helping.”

Jack slightly turns his body, shifting his head so he is almost looking directly at the old man.

“If it was helping me, then why would I be here?”

“So you don’t think it helped?”

Jack exhales and leans his head back, staring up to the ceiling.

“Yes it helped. It helped with all that outside nonsense.” He says through an exhale. “But it didn’t help me.”He says pointing towards his chest.

“Tell me more about Summer.” The old man says.

“I saw her again the next day. At the same bar we met.”

The old wood floors creak beneath Jack’s feet, he sidesteps around bar patrons hoping for a spot for himself. Near the end of the bar he sees an open stool, the girl next to the open spot has her back turned, cigarette smoke floats in the air above. As he gets closer she turns.

“Hey you!” Summer says, leaning over and placing a firm kiss on Jack’s cheek. “I saved you a seat.”

Jack awkwardly leans in to her kiss. “They let you smoke in here?”

“I’m very persuasive. You want one?”

“Oh, no thanks I don’t smoke.” Jack says sitting down.

“Oh, so now you don’t?” Summer leans forward and brushes her hand against Jack’s chest. Jack forces a smile, uncomfortable in the awkward situation. He spots a unique tree tattoo on the back of Summer’s right shoulder.

“Is that a tattoo?” Jack asks. Summer grins, “That was the first thing you noticed last time”

Last time? What does she mean last time?

Summer stands up abruptly, turning her back to Jack, she curls her hair in one hand, clearing it from obstructing the view of the tattoo.

“Now does it look familiar?” Summer backs up, pushing between Jack’s legs, she leans back so her body is almost touching his. “I don’t think I’ve seen one like that, looks cool though” Jack responds. Summer pulls away, she sits down holding her hand to her face laughing. Jack peers over at multiple empty glasses in front of her. “Oh shoot, I’m sorry but I just remembered I have to be up very early tomorrow.”

“Already we’re leaving?” Summer stumbles up, trying to grab Jack’s hand.

“Yes, I have to. Are you going to be okay?”

“Am I going to be okay?” Summer giggles.

“Do you have someone who can help get you home?” Jack asks with concern.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for,” She brushes his chest with her hand once more. “Like last time.”

Jack stops her hand.“What do you mean like last time?”

“Oh these games you play,” says a grinning Summer, “You want a reminder?” She frees her hand and starts moving it down the rest of Jack’s chest, slowly moving lower, “Always in control aren’t you, Jack?”

During his story the white ceiling above him has acted as a form of hypnosis for Jack, putting him at ease to share his experience, he doesn’t notice the old man has been asking him a question.

“What did you say?” Jack asks.

“I said, this idea of control, having control over your life, was this something you struggled with before?

“Did I always feel in control of my life?” Jack rewords the question. He doesn’t wait for the old man to respond. “If I say no then you will think I’m lying.”

“I only care about the truth Jack.”

“Well who is ever really in complete control of their lives? All this automation, everything behind an invisible firewall, nothing actually exists anymore.”

“You’re evading the question.” The old man says sternly.

“It’s a complicated question.”

“Is it though?”

“I don’t believe any of us ever in control, it’s not just me.”

“So you didn’t make any choices? You didn’t decide to move out here? You didn’t decide to go on the auditions? You didn’t decide-“

“Yes I did!” Jack interrupts, “But, it always felt like something was pushing me towards it. A feeling I can’t describe. It felt like it wasn’t me making the decision.”

“But you always wanted this life, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but-“

“But what Jack?”

“But at what cost? I wanted this life yes. But now that I have it, it doesn’t even feel like me, what part of me did I lose chasing this?”

“Sacrifices in life are necessary.”

“What if that sacrifice costs you who you are? Or who you thought you were supposed to be?”

“Well Jack, who are you supposed to be?”

Seated in the back of a limousine, Jack rests his head on his hand, staring out the window, a glass of champagne in his other hand. He’s wearing a simple black suit and black tie. A decision that wasn’t his own, it was a recommended choice by his agent, who said it’s a classic look that will show he belongs. It hasn't had that effect on him yet. The limo wasn’t his choice either, he mentioned he was thinking of walking to the event, his management laughed at that, even though he wasn’t joking. He sips the glass of champagne, another idea that wasn’t his. A simple beer would serve him better, he misses the stouts at Quincy’s. The limo slows to a stop, loud cheering and bright flashes surround the car. Jack steps out to a rising wave of cheers and screams.

“Over here! Over here!” Several people yell behind eye-stinging flashes.

Jack extends his arm to his side, a woman grabs a hold and steps out of the limo. Jack and Summer make their way down the red carpet, flashes and yells surround them. Jacks eyes count the steps to the door, a man with a microphone steps into his view, Jack doesn’t hear his question amid the noise, and he leans forward to hear it once more.

“Can you describe what you’re feeling right now?” The man shouts.

Jacks answer is interrupted by a raindrop that hits his hand. The sky gets a shade darker as a rumble of thunder is heard. Several more drop until soon there is a steady stream of rainfall.

“How did you prepare for this role?” Another microphone pushed in his face.

“I-” The rain is falling hard on Jack now.

“Lets go.” Summer says pushing him forward.

The man with the microphone backs into the crowd, several people scurry forward into the theater. The rain cascading down the window of the building catches Jack’s eye, he looks at his reflection.

How did you get here?

Summer tugs on Jacks arm, Jack is still staring at the reflection of who he is now, his face blank, absorbing his new appearance. Jack’s eyes widen at the moment the reflection grins, it winks at him, surrounding people push Jack inside; his reflection fixes its tie and walks away.