F*ck

(??? POV)

The name's Rupert Darkflame. Yeah, that Darkflame family. The one with the famous actors. But unlike my younger brother Damien, I'm not exactly the family's pride and joy.

For 30 years, I've been waiting. Hoping. Praying to whatever dark gods would listen for a demon studio to create a film I could proudly call a masterpiece. But year after year, I've been disappointed.

It's why I'm not following in Damien's footsteps. Why my family looks at me like I'm some kind of failed experiment. Because I refuse to settle for mediocrity.

Ten years ago, I made my debut. The film was trash, pure and simple. I can still hear the snickers from demons, humans, and elves alike. It was... humiliating.

So I quit. Or at least, that's what everyone thinks. My family tried to talk me out of it. "Who cares what they think?" they said. "The money's good, isn't it?"

But I couldn't accept that. Is it so wrong to want to be part of something... good?

I've been searching ever since. Meeting with studio executives, trying to find someone who gets it. But all they see are dollar signs. They don't understand that quality and profit aren't mutually exclusive. Make a good film, and the money will follow. Is that concept really so hard to grasp?

The demon film industry... it infuriates me. We're so far behind, it's embarrassing.

But now... now I'm watching "The Demonfather," and I've lost count of how many times I've felt goosebumps. It's... it's everything I've been waiting for.

And yet, I feel... conflicted. Regretful.

A few weeks ago, I received a script. "The Demonfather," it was called. I barely skimmed it before tossing it aside. It didn't seem interesting, and when I saw the writer's name - Arthur Morningstar - I scoffed. Threw it back to my manager without a second thought.

Now? Now I'm kicking myself. Hard.

As I watch this film unfold, as I see the depth, the nuance, the sheer craftsmanship on display, I can't help but think of what could have been. I could have been part of this. I could have been up there on that screen, making history.

Instead, I'm just another face in the crowd, watching as someone else - someone I dismissed - redefines demon cinema.

I've spent years searching for the perfect demon film, only to reject it when it was right in front of me. All because I couldn't see past a name, past my own preconceptions.

As the film continues, I find myself both elated and devastated. Elated because finally, finally, there's a demon film worthy of praise.

I watch, transfixed, as Sonny's character unfolds on screen. The role I was supposed to play. The role I rejected like an idiot. Sonny's hot-headed, sure, but there's something endearing about his fierce protectiveness of his sister.

When he beats the hell out of Carlo for abusing Connie, I can't help but nod in approval. But then... Carlo's abuse escalates, and I feel a knot forming in my stomach. If I were Sonny, I'd do more than just rough the bastard up. I'd end him.

Seems I'm not alone in that sentiment. The theater is buzzing with barely contained rage.

A frost demon in front of me snarls, "If I met that Carlo guy in person, I'd give him a taste of my Glacier Crush spell. See how he likes being on the receiving end of some pain."

"Glacier Crush? Too quick," a succubus to my left hisses. "I'd torture him slowly. Make him beg for death."

I can't help but chuckle darkly at their words. Glancing towards the front rows, I spot the actor who plays Carlo squirming in his seat. Poor bastard. Hope he's got good security when he leaves the theater.

As the scene continues, showing a pregnant Connie enduring more abuse, I feel my blood boil. Damn it, Sonny. How can you not know what's happening? The audience around me is practically frothing at the mouth, desperate for some sweet, sweet revenge.

The scene shifts, and we see a woman tending to children when the phone rings. She answers, and her expression changes as she listens to the voice on the other end. Without a word, she hands the phone to Sonny.

"What?" Sonny's surprise quickly morphs into fury. His eyes blaze with a rage that sends a shiver down my spine. "You just wait there."

He slams the phone down, muttering through gritted teeth, "That son of a bitch."

The anticipation in the theater is palpable. I can feel it crackling in the air around me. This is it. Carlo's about to get what's coming to him, and by the dark gods, we're all here for it.

Sonny, true to his hot-headed nature, storms out and jumps into his car. The Corleone men look on, bewildered by his sudden fury, but they don't dare intervene. As Sonny peels away, the excitement in the audience reaches a fever pitch.

That loudmouth dwarf from earlier is at it again, but this time, his outburst mirrors what we're all thinking. "Haha! Sonny's about to whoop that Carlo's ass!" he exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat.

For once, nobody shushes him. We're all too caught up in the moment, too eager to see justice served.

I can't help but smile, agreeing with the dwarf's excitement. We're all anticipating some well-deserved payback.

But as the scene shifts to a toll booth, I feel a strange sense of unease creeping in.

"Why does this scene at the toll booth need to be included?" I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

The human beside me chuckles, "It's filler, obviously."

I shake my head, unconvinced. "Filler? So far, this film hasn't wasted a single frame. It's... odd."

"Heh, you're only saying that because it's the first time we've seen such an engaging demon film," the human replies with a smirk. "Just watch the movie."

I settle back into my seat, uneasy as Sonny waits for the toll booth operator. The tension in the theater is palpable.

Suddenly, the tall booth operator ducks, and several demon men emerge, wielding Tommy guns adorned with powerful runic magic. They're aiming straight at Sonny.

"Shit!" I exclaim, my heart racing. "Those are enchanted weapons! They'll tear through protection spells like paper!"

Someone nearby shouts, desperation in their voice, "Run, Sonny! Get out of there!"

The audience is in an uproar. Despite Sonny's hot-headedness, he's become a favorite. He's the character I should have played, and now...

It's over in seconds. The scene that should have been Sonny's moment of revenge becomes his brutal end. The gunshots are deafening as Sonny tries to escape, but it's futile. He's caught in a hail of bullets, falling to the ground only to be riddled with more.

"Fuck," I curse under my breath, watching Sonny's life ebb away in a pool of blood.

"This is bullshit!" someone nearby shouts, echoing the sentiment rippling through the crowd.

The shock in the theater is palpable. This isn't how it was supposed to go. Sonny was supposed to save the day, to be the avenging brother. Instead, he's been cut down in a moment of vulnerability, caught off guard and alone.

As the scene fades, I'm left with a whirlwind of emotions.

---

Sorry for the title. I really couldn't think of a good title for this chapter.