Proving himself and his thoughts

In a quaint rented space in Pennsylvania, the production of the indie project "The Perks of Being A Wallflower" was underway. Lucas found himself in the company of Lianne Halfon, Russel Smith, and John Malkovich, the esteemed founders of Mr. Mudd Productions. The room buzzed with anticipation as they prepared to discuss their upcoming collaboration.

Lucas extended his hand towards the trio, his grip firm and confident. "It's a pleasure to meet you all." His smile radiated sincerity, a testament to his genuine excitement.

Lianne, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile, was the first to respond. "The pleasure is ours. You've been making quite a stir lately, haven't you?"

Russel, another middle-aged man with a hearty laugh, joined in, "Who hasn't heard of Lucas these days? Your name's everywhere!"

John, also shook Lucas's hand with a glint in his eye. "A promising young man, indeed," he said, his voice filled with approval.

As they settled into their seats, Lucas noticed the glint in their eyes, clearly appraising him. He knew they were sizing him up, analyzing every word and gesture. Undeterred, he maintained his composure and joined their light banter.

Then suddenly, John spoke up, "You know, Chbosky had his reservations about casting you as Charlie. He thought you might be too tall and mature-looking for the role, even though your face does have that youthful charm."

Lianne nudged John gently, shooting him a look that said "TMI." She turned to Lucas with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

John raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm not the one who thought that! It was Stephen. But I know you can pull it off, Lucas."

Russel Smith chimed in, "But maybe you could've been a bit more tactful, John."

Lucas waved off their concerns with a grin. "No worries, guys. I understand where he's coming from. I am on the taller side for a high schooler, but I'll make up for it with my acting."

Before anyone could respond, a new voice piped up. "Confident, are we?"

All heads turned to see Stephen Chbosky, the writer and director of the project, sauntering into the room.

Lucas stood up and extended his hand towards Stephen Chbosky, a warm smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Chbosky." However, to his surprise, Stephen ignored the handshake and instead poured himself a glass of water from the nearby dispenser. Lucas's hand hung awkwardly in midair for a moment before he retracted it.

Stephen took a sip of water before continuing, "You know, if it were up to me, I wouldn't have cast you as Charlie. But these producers here," he said, gesturing to Lianne, Russel, and John, "They think you're some kind of acting prodigy." He turned to Lucas, his gaze unflinching. "But I think they just want your songs in the film's soundtrack and to cash in on your popularity."

John Malkovich interjected, "It's not that simple, Stephen—"

"Oh, come on, John. We all know why we're here," Stephen cut in. "Your films only make money because of your fanbase, not your acting chops."

The three producers shifted uncomfortably in their seats, unable to refute Stephen's blunt words. The room fell silent, the tension palpable.

Stephen Chbosky was oblivious to who Lucas was, consumed as he was by his writing and directing responsibilities. He had reluctantly given the casting decisions to the producers, never expecting them to choose someone as well-known as Lucas.

Stephen believed that Lucas landed the role due to his fame, not his acting abilities. His focus on the project had been so single-minded that he hadn't even bothered to research the actors the producers were considering. As a result, he harbored doubts about Lucas's acting prowess, convinced that it was only his popularity that secured him the lead role in the film.

Lucas's mind raced as he digested Stephen's words. "So, they cast me without even knowing my work?" he thought, incredulous. If they had bothered to do their research, they'd know that acting was his first love, and music was just a happy accident.

"Well, it seems I'm not wanted here," Lucas said, resigned. He started to leave when John Malkovich stopped him.

"Wait, Lucas! It's just a misunderstanding." John turned to Stephen, irritation evident in his voice. "You haven't even seen his work, man. Give the kid a chance!"

Stephen scoffed, still unconvinced. "Fine, but I'm only doing this because of you three," he said, reluctantly looking at the other producers. "But if he messes up, it's on you."

Lucas turned around, his gaze meeting Stephen's head-on. "Fine, I'll give you a performance." He was more than a little annoyed by the director's attitude, but he was determined to prove him wrong.

"What are you waiting for? Let's see what you've got," Stephen goaded, folding his arms across his chest.

Russel Smith spoke up, "Shouldn't we at least have him prepare—"

"He's had the script for weeks, Russel. I'm sure he's prepared," Stephen cut in, a smirk playing on his lips.

John Malkovich opened his mouth to defend Lucas, but he beat him to it.

"Alright, here goes nothing," Lucas muttered under his breath. He'd been in this situation before, having to prove himself to skeptical directors on bigger projects, but an indie film? He never thought he'd have to do it again.

Under the watchful gazes of the producers and Stephen, Lucas transformed. It was as if he'd flipped a switch, his very demeanor changing before their eyes. Gone was the confident, poised actor, replaced by a shy, awkward teenager.

Stephen narrowed his eyes, trying to pinpoint the difference. Then it hit him: it was in the way Lucas carried himself, the way he looked around the room.

Lucas, now fully immersed in the role of Charlie, began to act out a scene from the script. His voice, usually deep and confident, took on a quieter, more tentative tone. He moved around the room as if he were navigating a minefield, careful not to draw too much attention to himself. His posture slouched ever so slightly, shoulders hunched forward as if to make himself smaller.

The producers and Stephen watched, entranced. Lucas captured the teenager's vulnerability and yearning for connection without resorting to over-the-top gestures or affected mannerisms. Instead, it was in the subtlety of his performance that he shone: the way he'd dart his eyes around the room, the nervous tapping of his foot, and the soft, almost inaudible mumbling to himself.

As the impromptu audition progressed, even the skeptical Stephen found himself drawn into the performance, forgetting that this was the same actor he'd just written off moments ago. By the end, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Lucas was born to play the part of Charlie.

The room was silent as Lucas slipped back into his own skin, a playful glint in his eyes as he asked, "What did you think of my audition?"

The four of them snapped out of their trance-like state, exchanging glances.

The three producers couldn't help but admit to themselves that they, too, had harbored some doubts when they first laid eyes on Lucas. His youthful appearance in person was at odds with the mature performances they'd seen on screen. But now, there was no denying his talent.

"That was...," Lianne Halfon began, at a loss for words. "Now I see why you're so popular." She applauded softly, her eyes shining with admiration.

John Malkovich nodded in agreement. "I've seen my fair share of actors, but lately, the industry's been lacking. Creativity and talent have taken a backseat to appearances and marketability. But you, Lucas, you've just renewed my faith in the next generation of actors."

Russel Smith chuckled, "Damn straight."

Lucas couldn't help but smile at the producers' effusive praise, feeling as if he were on a talent show in front of judges. He turned to Stephen Chbosky, who remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Stephen finally spoke up, his tone begrudgingly impressed. "You're not bad..." He watched Lucas closely, a newfound spark in his eyes. "In fact, I take that back. You're more than just 'not bad.' It's... your eyes." Stephen's gaze locked onto Lucas', evaluating him, as if trying to see into his very soul. "When you were in character as Charlie, I saw it. The subtlety of sadness, the quiet loneliness... It's exactly how I pictured Charlie when I was writing him."

The producers exchanged discreet glances, surprised by the unexpected level of praise coming from Stephen's mouth. They knew that although he'd been harsh on Lucas initially, this kind of specific, sincere praise was something he rarely doled out.

"Thank you, Mr. Chbosky," Lucas said, a hint of relief in his voice. "I'm glad I could do the character justice in your eyes."

Stephen grumbled, a little embarrassed at the attention, and he stood up, extending his hand for a handshake this time around. "I apologize for my earlier behavior. I shouldn't have doubted you."

Lucas smiled and accepted the handshake. "Water under the bridge," he said magnanimously.

Stephen chuckled self-consciously, "To be honest, it's on me for doubting you. I guess I should have watched your work beforehand. Your performance just now was... unexpectedly good."

Lucas just smiled, knowing it was high praise coming from the writer-director. The three producers exchanged relieved glances, glad that Stephen was finally on board with their casting decision.

John, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, decided to capitalize on it. "Now that we've broken the ice, why don't we discuss the film?" he said, glancing at Stephen. "Lucas, you've clearly studied Charlie's character well. Care to share your thoughts on the script?"

Stephen considered the suggestion, mulling it over, then nodded. "Fair enough, have a seat, Lucas."

Lucas took a seat next to Stephen. The frosty atmosphere had thawed, and they could now focus on the movie at hand.

Lucas was glad to be included in the creative direction of the project. He'd read the script multiple times and had a few ideas brewing.

As they discussed the script, Lucas offered his suggestions, "I think we should highlight Charlie's isolation and his journey of finding a sense of belonging more. Maybe amp up the bullying scenes, but make them more psychological than physical, as to not alienate our target audience. Show how he's drowning in his own thoughts and how meeting Sam and Patrick becomes his lifeline."

To his surprise, Stephen and the producers listened intently.

Lianne Halfon, visibly intrigued, asked, "Can you expound more on that?"