"In the business of acting, there are no constants." I was told this lie after the tremendous success of my first role in an action film when I was eighteen. My agent had warned me not to get comfortable in the limelight, because it was rare to strike gold twice in Hollywood. That had been ironically followed by two very productive years consisting of four more movies, eighteen promotional late night segments, forty nominations, and twenty-eight wins.

I suppose it wasn't a total lie. As I transitioned through sets, every atmosphere was different: new directors and producers, different crew, a fresh cast, ever-changing sets… even the catering was different.

In the past year, however, I became aware of a new face in the spotlight; Alfred F. Jones, a nineteen year old upstart from Kansas, of all places. He'd had a supporting role in the latest blockbuster rom-com, and apparently upstaged both stars with his charisma.

"Jones is up for the role of the superhero, Omega," my agent informed me as we walked down the halls of the audition studio. I had been immediately cast as the lead in this film, and had even made a cameo as the character in the movie preceding this one. The casting director wanted me to read with the hopefuls to see if any of them had chemistry with me.

"So?" I eyed him curiously, not certain of his implications.

"So, if he gets cast, this movie will get a ton of press! Hollywood's Gentleman meets America's Rising Star in the highly anticipated Marvel movie of the year? It would be a media frenzy!" Had it been possible, his pupils would have morphed into dollar signs.

I shook my head at him. "What makes you think Jones will even get the role? He played a goofy character in a rom-com, that doesn't automatically qualify him for an action movie."

We stopped in front of the audition room, where I would be holed up for practically the entire day. My agent leered at me as he opened the door. "Just try to keep an open mind, Arthur; he may surprise you."

I nodded to him before entering, hearing the door seal behind me. Crew members were making final adjustments to the audio and video to be recorded for later review. I spotted the casting director seated at the sole table in the room, a sole chair beside her for me.

She glanced up from her papers upon hearing me enter and stood, a soft smile on her round face. "Mr. Kirkland, I'm so glad that you could drop by!" she greeted, extending a hand.

I shook it, offering a grin of my own. "It's my pleasure," I answered politely, retracting my hand, "and please, just Arthur will do."

She nodded, sitting back down and gesturing to the extra chair. "Please have a seat. If you need anything, my assistant will be happy to fetch it for you."

A young man stepped forward, silently inquiring if I had any requests. "A tea would be lovely," I stated, nodding to him respectfully.

He turned to his boss, but she waved him off. Dismissed, he exited the room.

"This is mostly a formality," the director explained, shuffling the pile of papers again. "We really want to cast Jones, but unlike with you, who has displayed prowess in this genre, he needs to perform an audition. We decided to use this as an opportunity to test the interaction between your characters. We're really hoping that you two complement each other."

"Well, fingers crossed," I joked, eliciting a small giggle from the brunette.

One of the crew members stepped forward, the others exiting the room. "We're ready to begin when you are," he informed, handing a small remote to her.

The director's assistant entered with a steaming cup in his hands, placing it before me. He glanced up at his superior for further direction.

"Send the first one in," she ordered, starting the camera suspended over us with the remote.

I read with a few hopefuls, none of them very note-worthy. I assumed the director was using them to warm me up for the main event.

"Thank you very much," she addressed the most recent teen, a short bubbly blond with fuchsia eyes. "We'll be in touch."

He bowed and took his leave. I caught a glimpse of four teens patting him on the back, one of them pulling him into a hug, as the door closed.

I sighed, leaning on my hand as the director scribbled down some notes. Those kids reminded me of how nice it is to have friends. Since I began my acting career, I'd lost touch with the few friends that I had from high school. I hadn't been able to keep up a steady relationship over the past two years, either. My closest companion was my money-grabbing agent.

"Okay, I think it's time to bring in Jones," the director called to her assistant, who wordlessly left to bring the American in.

The door reopened a moment later, slapping me with a ray of light. I thought that the last kid was bubbly, but Jones had a way of literally brightening the room. His hair was a reflection of the sun, those rays bouncing off of his megawatt smile. He had naturally tanned skin, probably a result of growing up in the fields of Kansas. His tall frame was supported by muscles that didn't bulge out, but ran smoothly along his arms and torso. He was dressed rather informally in a Superman T-shirt and light wash jeans. Despite his juvenile outward appearance, deep sapphire eyes hinted at another, darker side.

"Hi," he greeted, giving a brief wave. "I'm a huge fan of yours, Arthur! I really hope for the chance to work alongside you." He stepped forward, shaking my hand.

"Likewise, Alfred. I've heard great things about you," I replied, trying to remain professional; at least until the result of the audition.

"It's wonderful to have you here," the director added, exchanging a handshake with him, as well.

"I wouldn't miss an opportunity like this! I love superheroes! Hopefully I'm a fit for this role!"

"I hope so, too." The director flipped through her script, handing another copy to Alfred. The other people who auditioned had been given a few pages from the script, just enough to audition with. Alfred, on the other hand, would read from a different scene.

"Alright, boys, I want you to read from page twelve, line fifteen. This is immediately after Omega steps in to defend James, but James defeats the alien himself. Arthur, you have the first line, so whenever you're ready."

I flipped to the page and scanned the lines. My character, originally twelve in the comics, had been aged four years to appeal to a greater audience. Fortunately, my height and youthful features made me a perfect fit for the role.

I closed my eyes, running through the scenario in my head to find the appropriate emotions. My parents, who I discovered had been robots, died in a car accident that I lost consciousness during. I just awoke in a private hospital a month later, only to be attacked by some alien robot. This superhero, who until now only existed in my dreams, burst into the room to defend me. I panicked and shot a beam of energy from my hands, destroying the robot. I should display great emotion at this, but my character is reserved and detached. Therefore, I am dazed and my thoughts are disorganized.

I reopened my eyes, channeling the few emotions into my line: "I-I… Who… What just happened?"

I noticed that Alfred had his back to me, as the lines before indicated. "So they are after you…" he mumbled in a dark voice. He turned to me, face blank. "What is your name?"

I sat back, stunned at the question. "James… James-Michael Starling. Why do you seem familiar?"

Alfred furrowed his brow. "Perhaps you have seen me in the streets."

I released a dry chuckle, stretching my arms above my head. "I'm sure I'd remember seeing a man in a flashy leotard walking down the street pretty well. But you're… different. And the way that you fought- you're not from here, are you?"

Alfred leaned toward me, eyes scanning me up and down. "How much do you know about yourself?" he asked in a menacing voice.

I glanced down in contemplation as he turned his back on me again, heading for the window that would be there on set. "Wait, where do you think you're going?" I barked in an annoyed tone.

He bent down, as if hoisting a body over his shoulder, and placed his hand "on the window sill," lifting his leg as if to climb out. "I am going to dispose of this. But do not worry, we will be in touch."

I allowed a couple of seconds to pass before calling, "scene."

Alfred immediately transitioned back to himself, pumping his fist once in the air and giving me a high five. I smiled at his adorable antics. Wait, adorable?

"That was an admirable performance, Alfred," I commented. His oceanic eyes lit up at the compliment.

"Thank you, Arthur! The same goes for you!"

"I agree completely," the casting director added, stopping the camera. She signaled for her assistant to step forward, whispering something along the lines of, "send everyone else home."

Alfred looked to me anxiously, but I shot him a reassuring smile. Since when did I do anything to comfort anyone?

As her assistant exited, the director stood, holding a hand out to Alfred. "Welcome to the cast of Omega the Unknown!"


As production of the movie progressed, I found myself spending more time with Alfred, both on set and off. It began with him moving his chair beside mine during breaks, followed by him taking me out for ice cream after long days of filming, and eventually progressed to me inviting him to dinner twice a week. There was something about his charm and attitude that reminded me of that innocence Hollywood usually robs you of. I hoped that he would never lose his.

"Hey, Artie!" he called one evening as I exited my trailer. "This new club is opening downtown tonight and I know the owner. Would you, maybe, possibly… want-to-be-my-plus-one?"

Despite the rushed speech, I understood every word that slipped past his lips, and I blushed at the implications of his proposal. We would be out at an event, likely with a ton of paparazzi, and together. Was this a friendly invitation, or was there greater motive behind it?

"I don't know, Alfred, I mean, we have work in the morning, and I'm rubbish with liquor…" I pushed myself for more excuses. While I was perfectly fine with getting romantically involved with Alfred F. Jones, I wanted our partnership to remain mostly professional while filming.

Alfred's face fell; his features literally drooped. "O-Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he hastily apologized. He hung his head and turned to leave.

My jaw dropped at the sudden detour of the conversation, and I scrambled to recover. "Alfred, wait!" I reached out, my fingers latching onto his. He look back at me, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. Why is he so damn cute?

"I understand if you don't feel the same way, really Arthur."

Arthur. Not Artie, like he'd been calling me since he was cast in the role. The shift made a piece of me shatter. Professionalism be damned! I tugged him toward me and wrapped an arm around his waist, my lips meeting his.

I watched his face for a reaction, seeing his cobalt eyes widen, then slip shut as he relaxed. He kissed back gingerly, still letting me lead. His hands found my hips, and they sat there uncertainly.

I pulled back, a teasing smirk crossing my lips. Ah, that's why he faltered when asking me… "Alfred, have you even been in a relationship?"

The American blushed, confirming my suspicions. "You're my first kiss, too," he admitted softly.

My smirk probably mirrored that of the Cheshire cat's. This was rich! The hot, young new actor, who had probably stolen the hearts of millions of girls with his performance in that romance flick, was not only gay, but had never been kissed! At least, never until now.

"In that case," I whispered in a low tone, leaning up to his ear, "why don't I educate you?" I fisted his collar, dragging him back into my trailer. His eyes widened, but I comforted him with another kiss. "Don't worry, love, I won't do anything that you don't want me to."

I forced myself to pause, waiting for his response. His eyes met mine, and after a moment, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I always was a pretty good student," he joked, wrapping his arms around my neck and playing with the hairs at the back of my head.

I could feel my eyes darken upon receiving his consent. While I had been pushing it off for the sake of the movie, (or at least, what I thought would be best for the movie), I had been lusting after Jones since day one.

Throwing caution to the wind, I flung the door to my trailer open, dragging Alfred in and slamming the door shut behind me. I shoved him onto the sofa toward the back, (where I occasionally took naps during breaks), and straddled him.

"Let's see just how quickly you catch on," I growled, attacking his lips again.


The final day of filming was bittersweet. Our director had wanted to save the final scenes for the last day in order to drag the most emotion out of us.

Trying to remain true to the "canon" Marvel comics, we brought in the cast of The Defenders, whose movie had been released earlier this year, to make something of a cameo appearance. Their movie had to remain partially unresolved so that the end could be showcased here. An extra scene had been shown briefly displaying my character surrounded by them with their guns drawn on me.

Alfred and I stood, hand-in-hand, enduring another lecture about "the emotion of these scenes" from our dearest director. Elizabeta was an award-winning director, and she was amazing at her job, but she had a tendency to occasionally stress certain elements a bit too much.

"Remember to really tap into your emotions for these scenes, Arthur. After all these years of pent up emotions, James-Michael has finally found a reason to release them. Show the raw emotion that is sparked when-"

"Yes, yes, I know. Way to be a downer, Eliza," I huffed cheekily. The ending was truly tragic, and I was certain that, so long as we depicted it accurately, it would produce a heart-wrenching tear-fest and Oscars for us all.

"Right, well, places everyone! Make me proud!" she shouted into the megaphone. "I need Omega, Gramps, Ruby Thursday, and my police officers on set! James-Michael on standby!"

Alfred glanced around to ensure that no one was looking before pecking me on the cheek. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Go make me proud, love," I whispered, pushing him gently in the direction of the cameras. He smiled broadly and nodded, jogging over to his place and allowing the crew to strap him into his harness. I moved to sit near their places, waiting for my cue.

"Quiet on set!" Elizabeta ordered, eyes trained on the screens set out before her. The scene and take were announced and the clapperboard snapped shut. "Action!"

"Would this be enough for James-Michael to permanently move back to the country?" Omega inquired, handing Gramps a stack of hundreds.

The old man flipped through the money, then slipped it into a bag containing his own winnings. Sealing it shut, he held it out to the superhero with a wrinkled smile. "This is more than enough for both of you," he confirmed.

Omega leaped into the air and did a quick back flip. "Thank you for everything, Gramps! You cannot comprehend how this pleases me!"

Omega reached to accept the bag, but was suddenly knocked aside as a woman dressed in a red bodysuit with strange headgear barreled between them, snatching the bag from them both.

"Thanks for the generous donation!" she shouted at them.

Omega frowned, moving to chase after her.

"Omega, don't!" Gramps warned, grabbing onto the young hero's arm. "It's not worth it!"

"That is James-Michael's future! It is most definitely worth it!" Omega ripped his arm from Gramps's grasp and sprinted after Ruby Thursday.

He quickly caught up to her, attempting to snatch the bag back. The woman cried out in alarm, not expecting him to have caught up.

"Help! Thief!" she screamed, wrestling him for the bag.

They wrestled around on the floor, dodging each other's kicks and punches, before Omega managed to pin her down, forcing the bag from her grip.

Suddenly, a shot rang out, blood spurting from Omega's chest. I resisted the urge to panic, reminding myself that it was just an exploding dye pack, and that Alfred was not in danger.

He choked up blood, gaze falling to the bullet lodged in his left pectoral. Another shot hit him just below the first, puncturing his left lung.

That was my cue. I ran out onto the scene, devastation coating my features. I shrieked in alarm, catching him as he fell to the side.

His hazy eyes lit up in recognition as he studied my face. "James-Michael, why did you leave the hotel?"

"I heard screaming and shots and shit, Sam… Wh-What were you th-thinking? …Why?" I stuttered, tears springing to my eyes. I clutched the hand still firmly holding the bag with both of mine.

Alfr-Omega held his hand up to my cheek, gently brushing at the tears that streaked it. "You are crying," he whispered sorrowfully.

I let out a sob, shaking my head. "Of course I'm crying, you idiot! You're dying and there's nothing I can do to save you!" I gasped for breath, wiping my nose with my sleeve. "Why did you chase her? Why couldn't you let her go?"

He shakily pushed the bag into my hands, gesturing for me to open it. I peered inside, sobbing again as I examined its contents. "Sam…"

"My mission was to protect you." He gasped, coughing up more blood. "That money is for you to take to have a better life."

I shook my head again, tossing the bag to the side. "No! I'm not going without you!"

A tear slipped down his cheek, and I wiped it away with my thumb. "D-Don't-" another cough "-be stupid, James-Michael."

His eyes lost their focus, and his chest stopped moving. I cried openly, not caring that a crowd had formed, or that Ruby Thursday had picked the bag back up and was sifting through its contents. I touched my fingers to his eyelids, closing them gently. As I did so, I was engulfed by a sudden power so intense that I fell back.

I remained in that position for a few seconds, knowing that the flashbacks we filmed a few days ago would be inserted here.

"Cut!" Elizabeta called, pride laced into her voice. "That was amazing! We should jump right into the next scene, so can I get Arthur harnessed and his contacts in, please? And I need Moondragon and the Defenders on standby."

We all attempted to remain as still as possible. Two crew members came running onto the set, one handing me a hand mirror and a small box of red contacts. I sat up and slipped them in, allowing the other to hook me up to a harness for my aerial stunts. Checking the mirror to ensure that my contacts were properly applied, I returned the tools and lied back down.

I felt Alfred squeeze my hand, and I allowed a small smile before slipping back into character. I waited for the clapperboard to slam again and the director's command of "action" before bolting upright.

My eyes were wide and red. Much of this scene now would be special effects, so I tried to focus on what I could contribute that the effects people couldn't.

I gently placed Omega's head onto the asphalt, turning on the police officers. "You all did this," I growled, aware that there would be an echo added in later.

The officers trembled in their places, some of them returning their guns to their holsters and holding their hands up in surrender. I stepped toward them, but a shuffling sound caught my attention. Whirling around, I found Ruby Thursday attempting to pick up Omega's body, whispering something about how she could use his "organic cybernetics."

I raised my hands and "shot a large, concentrated beam" at her, "knocking her back" and dropping Omega's body back onto the ground. Thankfully, it was padded for just this reason. I charged at her, but she "pinned me to the ground" with a mechanical arm from her headgear.

"Hmm… Are you like him?" she wondered aloud, moving to stroke my cheek. I shifted away from her, my face twisted into a snarl.

"Let go of me!" I lashed out in blind rage, but she dodged easily.

Suddenly, she was knocked off of me, the arm releasing. A hand was offered to me, but I swatted it away and stood on my own, brushing off my clothes. I looked to see a group forcing Ruby Thursday into a full retreat. After she hopped a gate, they turned on me.

I backed away from them, trembling, then dropped to my knees and clutched my head as another onslaught of flashbacks hit me.

"Don't fight them," a voice advised. I looked up at Moondragon, who watched me with sad eyes. "They are not your imagination; they are memories."

I shut my eyes and shook my head, hands over my ears. I winced in pain as the reality hit me, more tears springing to my eyes. "No," I moaned. "I'm a human! I'm not like him! I'm not one of them!"

I, of course, was referring to the alien assassins who had been attacking Omega and me for the past couple of months. My flashbacks consisted of my creation by them and placement on Earth, coupled with all of the instances that I had not seemed normal.

"You cannot deny your origins," Moondragon asserted. She inched closer to me, but I backed away.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, eyes glowing red. I began to levitate, raising my hands. The crew turned the fans on, wind swirling violently around the set. The final scene would show a ball of light forming around me, red matter shooting from my hands and seeping from my eyes.

I could see the Defenders preparing for a battle, but Moondragon trudged toward them, shouting commands. "You cannot shoot him. You could set him off!"

"More than this?" one of them complained, reluctant to holster his weapon.

"He will cause an explosion that destroys the Earth, and possibly the entire galaxy, if you provoke him too much!" She glanced back at me anxiously. "What you need to do is evacuate the city! I will try to calm him down!"

They all nodded, dispersing to carry people out of harm's way. Moondragon returned her attention to me.

"James-Michael, you cannot do this! I understand how you feel, but destroying your home planet is not the answer!"

"Lies!" I bellowed. "You tell me that I am not from here, then you claim that this is my home! Just stop!" I moved higher, asserting my authority. "Everyone has wanted me dead! My own kind tried to kill me several times! The only person who ever cared for my safety is gone! What's the point of going on if I will continue to be hunted and picked on? No! I won't go back to that! If I can't live in peace, then no one can!"

"What about Dian?" Moondragon demanded desperately. "Does she deserve to die, too?"

I faltered, trapped in another flashback of myself and one of the only friends I had managed to make in school. The memory was of me comforting her after our other friend had been beaten to death by a group of bullies at school. I had promised to take her with Omega and me once we'd secured a place up in the mountains.

The glow of my eyes faded and my mouth turned to a frown. I knew that, even if I wanted to return to her, I would only put her in danger. The Protar wouldn't rest until I was dead; and with Omega now gone, how long would that take?

In that moment, I made a decision.

I gazed back down at Omega's lifeless body, still laying in the road. A tear slipped down my cheek as I whispered, "I'm sorry, Sam."

Moondragon and the Defenders watched as I rose even higher. Moondragon frowned and backed away, aware of my decision. Confused, and afraid that I may attack, the Defenders pulled their weapons out again, approaching cautiously.

I inhaled deeply, channeling my new-found biosphere-energy-sucking power and turned it inward, releasing a smaller blast that shot the Defenders, who'd leaped at me, into various directions, scattering them.

My dead body fell from the sky, but Moondragon flew from the shadows and caught me, laying me on top of Omega.

We froze for a few seconds, waiting for Elizabeta.

"Cut!" she cried, waving a tissue. "That was incredible, ladies and gents! We'll film the final scene in a moment, but for now, take a well-deserved break!"

I opened my eyes, immediately finding blue orbs trained on me.

"You look interesting with those red eyes and black hair… almost reminds me of a vampire," Alfred snickered.

I rolled my eyes and rested my head back on his chest content to simply lie with him. He brought a warm hand up to my back, rubbing it in soothing circles.

"We're finished!" he breathed.

I hummed in agreement. The final scene consisted of Moondragon flying our bodies into space and releasing them together in the direction of a sun. There wasn't much work for any of us in that one; that one was for the special effects guys to work out.

"Hey, Artie."

I felt Alfred sit up, my head rolling into his lap. "What?" I whined, upset at being moved.

"You know how Eliza's throwing a launch party in two months before the premiere?"

I cracked an eye open to examine Alfred's face. "Yes; what about it?"

He flushed, turning away bashfully. "Well, I was wondering, since it would be post-production and all, if you would be my… date?"

I rolled my eyes, leaning up and kissing him quickly. "Do you really have to ask?"


I rubbed my eyes tiredly, trying to adjust to the weird lighting in the room. Alfred sat up on his side of the bed, furiously typing away on his phone.

Ding! Ding! I groaned as the thirtieth message notification went off.

"Alfred, if you're going to bring work home with you, at least silence your phone," I groaned, swatting at him blindly.

"Wha- Oh, Artie, you're up!" he cheered, pulling me into a hug. "I just got the bestnews ever!" He turned the phone to me.

I grabbed his trembling wrist, waiting for my eyes to become capable of reading the bright screen.

Hey Alfred, are you still up? I've got some exciting news for you and Arthur!

Yeah? Shoot!

You know how you asked me about any upcoming Bond movies?

Yes…

Well, there's a strongly-supported rumor circulating that another Bond movie is in the works, and that they're looking for a younger Brit to play him!

I paused there, stomach clenching. I'd jokingly told Alfred about a month into filming Omega the Unknown that there were three roles that I have always dreamed of playing, and that if I could play at least one of them, I could consider my acting career a tremendous success: the Doctor, Sherlock Holmes, and James Bond.

Wait, let me just confirm, this is /the/ James Bond we're talking about, right?

No, Alfred, I'm talking about a movie about the stock market!

Oh, really?

No, not really!

Sorry, sarcasm is hard to translate in text messages…

I raised a brow and looked at my boyfriend with mild concern. "Really? You couldn't catch the sarcasm?"

Alfred pouted and crossed his arms. "Just keep reading, it gets better!"

Anyway, I can arrange for Arthur to audition once the script is finished.

Could you? That would blow his mind!

Would you like to audition, too?

For James Bond? I couldn't, they asked for a Brit.

I don't mean audition for Bond! The villain is set to be a young American ivy-league college student who suddenly inherits his father's Wall Street Company.

Wait, so you're saying there's a chance for me and Artie to work together again?

Yes. I'm sure the director wouldn't object, either. Your last movie together was such a hit that you two are practically the golden duo right now!

This is incredible!

Are you going to ask him about it now?

Nah, I'll wait until he wakes up.

Okay, great. I'll pass the details on to his agent.

Thanks!

I handed the phone back to Alfred, speechless. I had a chance to be James Bond and work together with Alfred, again? I pinched my thigh, wincing when I felt the pain, then ecstatic because I was not dreaming, after all!

Alfred watched me closely, trying to gauge my reaction. I slipped my arms around his neck, yanking him down into a kiss.

He pulled back after a minute, a goofy smile on his face. "So, you're happy?"

I dragged him into another kiss in response.

In the following years, Alfred and I made four movies together and won a combined total of seventy-six awards, twenty-one of which were Oscars, SAGA, and People's Choice. My agent had warned me that there were no constants, but with Alfred by my side, that belief was slowly diminishing.


A/N: Another day, another fanfic! I seriously have a timing issue, but hey, I still manage to beat the deadline!

So, the movie in this is very loosely based on an old Marvel comic by the name of Omega the Unknown. I apologize for the confusion, but I know nothing about the comic aside from the basic plot, which I fell in love with. The ending, though mostly accurate, is widely debated, as the comic was not ended by its original author, who was fired from Marvel before he could conclude it. Marvel considers it to be canon, but that's up for deliberation. Regardless, I do encourage you to at least look it up.

If I had more time to work with this, I probably could have sculpted something much more cohesive and easier to follow. Meh, I blame deadlines -.-

Anyway, tomorrow/today's theme is "Parallel Lines," which means it's basically open to any non-canon AU. Any ideas on what I should tackle? ;)

(No, seriously, I have no idea where to begin with the amount of possibilities, so please give me an idea on what I can write on 3)

Until tomorrow, lovelies~

(P.S.: Whoever caught onto the subtle cameo I slipped in there gets major brownie points! I'll give you a hint: who auditioned before Alfred?)