Notes: These 4 chapters were already posted on my Royalroad and Ao3 account (under the same username, Garmfild). Both places will update side-by-side starting the next chapter.
Harper flipped through his script, rereading the lines he had gone over for the past couple of days, muttering them to himself. His leg bobbed up and down with nervousness as he frequently glanced at the clock. The time for his audition was about to occur in a couple more minutes, and tension grew in his body with each passing second.
Harper wasn't the only one in a state of anxiety; the waiting room was filled with actors and actresses who wanted the starring role as much as he did. The people rehearsing aloud to themselves only solidified to Harper that he was about to say the same lines to the interviewers.
He had heard that the director himself was there to oversee the casting call, an unusual occurrence but not unheard of. The rumor only fueled Harper's need to get the role, a chance to impress the casting agent and the director himself, which was perfect for his dream to happen.
Taking a deep breath, he attempted to calm the butterflies swirling in his stomach. The waiting room buzzed with anticipation and quiet desperation, with everyone vying for the opportunity to shine in the spotlight. The air hung heavy with the collective hopes and dreams of aspiring actors.
As he continued to review his lines, Harper couldn't help but steal glances at the diverse talent around him. Each face carried its own story of ambition and determination, creating an unspoken camaraderie among the anxious performers. Some exchanged supportive nods, while others remained lost in their own worlds of preparation.
The rumor about the director's presence intensified the stakes. Harper couldn't shake the image of impressing the casting agent and the visionary behind the project. It wasn't just about landing a role but about making an indelible mark that could shape his entire career.
As the minutes dwindled down, the energy in the room became electric.
Harper's palms felt clammy, and he resisted rechecking his reflection in the mirror. The door to the audition room loomed like a gateway to his aspirations, and he couldn't escape the sense that destiny hung in the balance.
With a final glance at the script, Harper steeled himself. The nervous energy transformed into a fierce determination. He whispered the lines again, committing them to memory, and rose from his seat. As he joined the line of hopefuls awaiting their turn, he knew that this audition could be the turning point he had been tirelessly working toward. The room pulsed with the collective heartbeat of dreams. Harper was ready to take the spotlight and give the interviewers what they wanted and more.
Just as he had finished rereading the last part of the script, he heard a voice from the door dividing him and his last shot as an actor.
"Number 13, Harper Moore! You're next!"
Harper stood up from his chair, collecting his thoughts, and walked over to the person who called his name.
"Harper Moore, that's me."
The employee stood to the side, keeping the door open with his hand on the handle. Harper gave his thanks as he walked in, later taking deep breaths to calm himself down further.
As he entered the dimly lit audition room, the fluorescent lights flickered above Harper. The atmosphere was charged with suspense, but Harper could sense that the interviewers already harbored a certain disapproval. Their looks of contempt struck Harper as he made eye contact with each person.
One of them began flipping through sheets of paper before taking one out, reading through as Harper stood nervously in the limelight. The fact that he had everyone's resumes and sat in the middle of the table confirmed the rumor. The director really did show up to help pick the starring role.
"You're Harper?" The director asked. He nodded in response. "Alright then, let's get this over with, we have nearly 20 other people to look at."
Harper cleared his throat and started reading the script. As he read the lines, the interviewers exchanged skeptical glances. Harper felt their eyes on him, judging every expression, every nuance of his performance. The role demanded more than he could offer regarding looks, but he pressed on, determined to prove himself.
However, the director interrupted him before he could finish the first page.
"Sorry, Harper, but we're seeking someone different for this role," he explained as he placed Harper's resume face down in another stack. "You're not the type of actor we envisioned."
Harper looked up from his script, confused written on his face as his heart sank. What did they mean by that? Was Harper's looks the reason? His tone of voice? Before he could ask, another interviewer spoke up, already prepared to answer.
"You're just not what we need. Your acting style doesn't fit the vision we have for this character."
A cold realization crept over Harper. He wasn't merely being rejected for this role; they were dismissing him as an actor altogether. One of the interviewers punctuated the rejection when they whispered to their neighbor, "Honestly, he's not even noteworthy enough to be an extra."
Harper overheard their insult, but with proper etiquette, he took a slight bow, thanking them for their time. Harper left the audition room, the weight of disappointment clinging to him like a cloak. The door closed behind him, sealing the chapter of his failed attempt at breaking into the film industry. He threw the script he had been devoting the past week into a trash can with force, along with his self-esteem.
Wandering through the corridors of the casting office deep in dejection, Harper spotted a job board adorned with various fliers. A glimmer of hope ignited as he noticed a particular flier seeking a best boy grip with film school and movie tech experience. Harper's years of film school and projects wouldn't go to waste; it was an opportunity. A compromise on his dream of being in front of the camera. Still, it was a chance to be part of the filmmaking process.
The sting of rejection faded as quickly as it came. The urge to defy his mother's beliefs out of spite and his newly repaired dream gave Harper a new-found determination. Harper ripped the flier off the bulletin board. Resolve flickered in his eyes as he clutched the paper, hoping that this unexpected turn might lead him to a new path in the world of cinema.
As soon as Harper stepped out of the casting building, he found himself out in the middle of the desert. The flier had disappeared and in his hands was a C4. A combat tank stood tall in front of him, the heat of the sun reflecting off the metal into Harper's face. Harper began to look around, confused by the sudden change in the environment. Before he could drop the C4 in his hands, he heard a familiar shriek from the distance.
"SIR NO DON'T PUSH THE BU-"
Realizing what he was reliving, Harper attempted to run away, but just like the first time, he got caught in the blast.
Harper's eyes shot open, a gasp escaping his lips as he jolted upright in bed. His chest heaved with rapid breaths, his heart pounding against his ribs. The lingering echoes of his dream still clung to the edges of his consciousness, the most vivid image of the shift to his death in the movie set. He began to look side-to-side, disoriented about where he was, before the two appendages on his head hit his eyes.
Harper winced from the pain, mumbling, "Stupid dread thingies." After rubbing his eyes, he began to look around. Harper sat on a pullout sofa embroidered with flowers covered in a similarly designed blanket. A coffee table decorated with a single potted plant sat in front of the sofa. Winston and Willow slept nearby in front of the unused fireplace. The living room's decor featured vintage farm tools, throw pillows, and fresh flowers. Despite the traditional appearance, modern utilities like a flat-screen TV and DVD player were seamlessly integrated into the comfortable rural setting.
Winston and Willow woke up from their nap from Harper's movement, their heavy-eyed faces quickly shifting to one of happiness. Winston dashes out of the living room and to the front door, yelling, "Reed! Meadow! The kid's finally awake!"
Willow stayed behind, standing up and leaning her paws on the sofa's edge, staring tenderly into Harper's eyes.
"Are you feeling any better? You've been sleeping for an entire day."
"An entire day?" Harper repeated as he looked at his body. All his appendages were wrapped in bandages, even the extra one behind his back. His chest area was also enveloped, making it hard to turn his entire body.
"How bad of a condition was I in?" Harper thought to himself. "I guess the adrenaline at the time made me forget the pain."
"It's a good thing we found you so soon as well; if you were out there any longer with those injuries untreated, I don't want to imagine it."
Reed and Meadow walked into the living room led by Winston. The couple knelt by the sofa as Winston stood next to Willow.
"Your injuries were treatable, but if the Herdiers didn't find you…" Meadow said until she started looking downward, imagining something dark until Reed spoke up.
"Thankfully they did, and we had enough rawst berries to treat your burns."
Harper's new nose scrunched up from a bitter scent. He took his right arm up to his face and sniffed. The bandages were the source of the smell.
"Rawst berry juice burns greatly if applied like an ointment, so just bear with the scent for a while," Reed explained. "You'll make a full recovery other than some scars and burn marks but your fur will block them out of sight."
When he finished explaining, Reed sighed as he thought to himself before asking Harper, "There was also something we wanted to ask once you were awake. Do you know what caused your injuries?"
As Harper heard the question, he began to sweat, unsure of how to respond to their curiosity.
"What do I tell them?" Harper began to think of ideas. "I can't just tell them I'm from another world like it's normal. I also can't mention that I was a human; they wouldn't even believe me if I told-"
"Are you not sure, Riolu?" Meadow asked as she put her hand on his hand, or now his paw. "If you don't remember, it's alright."
Harper decided that memory loss was a decent coverup to his secret previous life and nodded in response.
"Well, that's somewhat concerning, but I'll take your word for it," Meadow continued. Reed and I believed a fire Pokémon attacked you before Winston and Willow found you. There wasn't any smoke in the forest, so we were stumped about how you came to be."
"I'll send a word to the police later about a potentially dangerous fire-type wandering in route 20's forest. Just know that you're safe here, Riolu."
"Thank you for treating me," Harper said to the human couple, "and thank you for finding me," he thanked the Herdier couple.
Reed and Meadow smiled, not comprehending his exact words but understanding their meaning before going back outside, the Herdiers following suit.
The familial connection he tangibly felt with everyone made Harper realize that he left his family behind as well.
Harper never had a wife, his work life made sure to keep his marriage status single. He was also an only child, Being the only child, he experienced a deep sense of isolation that was made worse by his unsupportive mother. His father had been his pillar of support, but destiny took a nasty turn. In addition to being his father, he was also a driving stuntman before he was tragically killed on a movie set.
Harper's relationship with his mother deteriorated further following his father's death. Their once-tense relationship finally shattered because she never came to terms with Harper's intense wish to follow in his father's footsteps in the film industry. The very business that had killed his father was now shadowed by the tragedy.
His loneliness turned into his regular companion. No friends to turn to, no siblings to share memories with. The emptiness that surrounded his existence was a reflection of his father's absence. He had no genuine relationships at work and felt alone even there. Colleagues remained as colleagues; they never moved past the work environment to become real friends.
The harsh truth was hard to swallow, but it was inevitable.
Harper didn't miss his old life.
His path towards his dreams and aspirations to be an actor were met with criticism from his mother and his peers. Even when he compromised his dream to make movies by changing his dream job to key grip, he was still horribly treated. The years of mental beatings brought him down multiple times but he continued to hope that something would eventually change.
An explosion to the face answered that hope. The combustive response to his desire affirmed Harper what the little voice in his head told him each day when he woke up.
"Cinema didn't need Harper Moore."
A tear dropped from his eye, and another, before they became sobs, muffled by a blanket on his face. Harper cried until no more tears fell before he fell back to sleep from exhaustion.
"You won't need your bandages anymore," Meadow said as she unwrapped Harper's bandages. "Your body needs some fresh air as well so I want you to go outside and walk around, ok?"
Harper gave an attempt of a thumbs up with his right paw, curling two pads and leaving one up.
Meadow chuckled at Harper's response, unwrapping the last of the bandages and throwing it away in a nearby trash bin.
"You can walk around the ranch anywhere you want, just don't disturb the Mareep and Flaaffy while they're grazing. I also don't want you to leave Floccesy Ranch as well for now. We want you within eye-contact in case you get attacked again. If you need anything just call for anyone nearby, alright?"
When the Riolu nodded, Meadow smiled at him before leaving the house, moving on with her daily tasks. Harper scooched to the edge of the sofa and jumped off.
Immediately losing his balance, he stumbles around before catching himself on the coffee table.
"Right, my feet aren't human."
Harper remembered that dogs walk like how a person would walk on their toes. With that in mind, he began to take small steps before walking at a steady pace.
"Aha, I can finally walk now, at least one more thing is making sense in my life."
Harper walked to the front door that was left ajar and gave it a push. The sunlight hit his eyes as he stepped into the outdoors. Harper began to look around, shading his eyes as he observed the area. With nothing else to do, he walked over to a nearby fence and looked at all the electric sheep Pokémon.
Harper's change in height created a few problems, one being that he couldn't look over the fence. He climbed the fence, and embarrassment filled his body as he finally reached the top. Harper hung his arms over the fence railing, staring at the Mareep and Flaaffy in a detached state.
After what seemed like hours, Harper noticed a middle-aged man approaching the ranch's front gate.
The man wore a purple suit and navy blue dress pants. He was balding, the sides of his head being the only area with hair. The blondeness of his remaining hair stood out the most from his eccentric outfit. Most noticeable was his curled, yellow mustache, which he gave a twirl as he took a phone call.
"What do you mean we still don't 'ave someone to take ze role? That's preposterous! I thought we would 'ave sorted zis out by now." He huffed as he continued his brisk pace on the ranch's pathway. Harper overheard the conversation and was now fully engaged in the man's conversation. Thankfully, the man was so absorbed in his one-sided talk that he didn't notice the Riolu sneaking behind him a distance away.
"You know extremely well! Without zat role, our studio will go bankrupt if we don't release zat movie. If ze personnel at ze Pokéstar Studios can't find a proper Pokémon, zen I'll 'ave to do it myself!"
With every word he spoke, Harper's hope for the future grew. Maybe he had a proper shot at a new life after all.