Aroma of Jealousy

(Arthur POV)

As the credits rolled and the applause thundered through the theater, I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. Firfel, Imkrag, Kurt, and I made our way to the stage, basking in the glow of our success.

The audience settled into their seats as I stepped up to the microphone. I took a deep breath, savoring the moment before speaking.

"Well, folks," I began, my voice warm with genuine emotion, "it seems we've managed to keep you entertained this evening."

The crowd erupted in cheers.

"It was more than entertainment, it was an experience!" someone shouted.

Another voice chimed in, "You've outdone yourself, Morningstar!"

I chuckled, enjoying their enthusiasm. Glancing at my co-stars, I could see the nervousness radiating off Imkrag and Kurt. Poor guys looked like they might bolt at any second. Even Firfel, usually so composed, had a hint of excitement in her eyes.

Turning back to the audience, I continued, "My film has indeed spoken for itself this evening. And despite not preparing a speech at all - rookie mistake, I know - I can only say that I'm incredibly grateful for how well it's been received."

I paused, allowing a hint of genuine emotion to creep into my voice. It wasn't just the film's success that moved me, but also the {System} rewards I'd received for completing my mission. Not that I could tell them that, of course.

The audience quieted, picking up on my change in tone. I seized the moment to add, "Creating this film was no small feat. My team and I faced numerous challenges, from budget constraints to logistical nightmares. It took us over a few months of intense work to bring this vision to life."

I glanced around the room, making eye contact with as many people as I could. "While my crew couldn't be here tonight, I want to emphasize that this film's greatness isn't just down to my admittedly brilliant directing," I said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "It's the result of an incredible team effort."

As I wrapped up my speech a few minutes later, the audience broke into applause once more. I caught snippets of conversation from nearby:

"Who knew demons could be so sentimental?"

"Hey, they've got feelings too, you know."

I smiled to myself. If only they knew the real reason behind my emotions - the {System} rewards waiting for me. But that was my little secret.

For now, I was content to bask in the afterglow of our success, surrounded by the warmth of the audience's appreciation and the pride of a job well done.

"Here with me tonight are some of the talented actors who brought this story to life. First, we have Kurt Vault, who played Frodo."

Kurt stepped forward, bowing nervously to the crowd. Someone in the back shouted, "You've gotta protect the ring, Frodo!" eliciting laughter from the audience.

The crowd's energy was infectious. Someone called out, "How much for the One Ring, Frodo?" eliciting chuckles from the audience.

I couldn't help but grin as another voice piped up, "Don't listen to them, Lady Frodo!"

That last comment set off a wave of laughter that swept through the theater. Even I found myself chuckling softly.

"Alright, alright," I said, trying to regain control of the situation. "I think Kurt's had enough of the spotlight for now." I turned to introduce the next cast member. "Ladies and gentlemen, the actor who brought Gollum to life - Imkrag!"

Imkrag stepped onto the stage, his hair once again a wild afro now that filming was over. He gave a nervous bow and an awkward wave to the audience.

Suddenly, a shrill voice cut through the applause: "Creep!"

The shout opened the floodgates, and more playful jabs followed:

"My precious! Give it to us!"

"Did you brush your teeth today, Gollum?"

"He wants fish, yes he does!"

I watched Imkrag's face fall, his initial nervousness giving way to genuine hurt. Feeling a pang of guilt, I quickly moved to intervene.

As I gently pulled Imkrag back, he looked up at me with worried eyes. "Did I do something wrong, boss?"

The vulnerability in his voice made my heart clench. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and turned back to the microphone.

Seeing Imkrag's crestfallen expression, I felt a pang of guilt. I leaned in close, speaking softly so only he could hear. "Hey, don't take it to heart, buddy. They're just joking around."

Imkrag's eyes met mine, still uncertain. I continued, trying to inject some encouragement into my voice. "Look, you played a villain, and a damn good one at that. They're reacting to Gollum, not you. It means you nailed the role. That's something to be proud of, yeah?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Imkrag's mouth. "You really think so, boss?"

I nodded firmly. "I know so. Now chin up, you're a star."

With Imkrag looking a bit more cheerful, I turned back to the microphone. "And last but certainly not least, the talented and beautiful Firfel, our Arwen!"

As Firfel stepped forward, the audience erupted into cheers and whistles. Then the comments started:

"Hey Arthur, when's the wedding?"

"Aragorn and Arwen, sitting in a tree..."

"Did you write that kiss scene yourself, Arthur?"

I felt my face heat up, a mix of embarrassment and amusement washing over me. Without thinking, I reached out and pulled Firfel closer, which only elicited more laughter and catcalls from the audience.

Firfel leaned in, her voice low and amused. "Unbelievable people," she muttered, but I caught the hint of a smile on her lips.

As we made our way off the stage, the audience's enthusiastic applause following us, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. Despite the jokes and jabs, it was clear that our film had made an impact.

I glanced at Firfel, Imkrag, and Kurt as we headed backstage. They looked tired but happy, still riding the high of the audience's reaction. I knew that this was just the beginning.

***

The premiere afterglow was quickly replaced by the frenzy of the post-screening interviews. My co-stars and I found ourselves surrounded by a swarm of reporters, their eyes glinting with curiosity and hunger for a scoop. Most of them, unsurprisingly, zeroed in on me.

An elven reporter with piercing green eyes thrust her microphone towards me. "Your film's premiere is an unexpected success. How do you feel?"

I couldn't help but smirk a little. "Feels great," I said, keeping it simple.

Another reporter, a dwarf with an impressively braided beard, chimed in. "This new film of yours far surpassed 'The Demonfather' in my opinion. Can you tell us who inspired you to make such a film? Especially, what inspired those powerful ring artifacts?"

I paused for a moment, my mind racing. "Well," I began, crafting my story carefully, "I was inspired by my kingdom's ancient artifacts that contained immense power. I thought, why not make a movie about ancient artifacts? Powerful rings, maybe? And then I wrote a script for it."

Suddenly, a tall elf with sharp features and cold eyes spoke up. His voice dripped with disdain. "Really? Because I couldn't help but notice some... familiar elements in your film. The powerful artifacts, the ancient lore... It all feels rather reminiscent of elven history. Care to comment on that?"

I raised an eyebrow, sensing the trap. "History is full of tales about powerful artifacts. I drew inspiration from many sources."

The elf - whose name tag read 'Thorne Silverleaf' - pressed on, his facade of politeness slipping. "Sources, you say? But isn't it odd how closely your 'inspiration' aligns with elven lore? One might almost call it a... rip-off."

Firfel stepped forward, her eyes flashing. "That's quite an accusation, Mr. Silverleaf. Are you suggesting elves have exclusive rights to stories about magical items?"

Thorne's lip curled. "I'm merely pointing out the similarities. But while we're on the topic of questionable practices..." He pulled out a folded newspaper. "There are some interesting rumors circulating about your previous film, Mr. Morningstar."

He unfolded the paper, revealing a headline: 'The Truth Behind The Demonfather: Ghost Writers and Secret Directors?'

"Care to address these allegations?" Thorne asked, his voice dripping with faux concern. "It does seem rather... unlikely that someone with your background could suddenly produce two blockbusters."

I felt a familiar heat building behind my eyes, but before I could respond, Firfel cut in.

"Unlikely?" she scoffed. "What's unlikely is a so-called professional journalist peddling baseless gossip. Arthur's talent speaks for itself. If you can't see that, perhaps you're in the wrong profession."

Thorne's face reddened. "Now see here-"

"No, you see here," Firfel interrupted, her voice steely. "Your jealousy is showing, Mr. Silverleaf. If you have nothing of substance to contribute, I suggest you leave. There are plenty of reputable journalists here who'd love to ask some actual questions."

As Firfel and Thorne continued their heated exchange, I remained silent, a storm brewing inside me. I could feel a familiar warmth building behind my eyes, a telltale sign of what was to come. My vision started to blur slightly, and I knew that at any moment, my eyes might shift to that intimidating scarlet hue.

Just as I thought I might lose control, a new voice cut through the tension like a knife through butter.

"My, my. What an interesting fragrance in the air tonight."

"Is that... eau de sour grapes I detect?" Caedan continued, his eyes twinkling as they landed on Thorne. "Or perhaps just the pungent aroma of jealousy? It's so hard to tell sometimes."

Thorne's face paled as he recognized the legendary critic. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it. With a final glare in my direction, he turned on his heel and stalked away.