Look At Him, Finally Taking His Rightful Throne

….

The taxi came to a stop outside the restaurant, pulling Regal from his thoughts.

He stepped out, taking in the warmly lit façade and the lively chatter filtering through the glass doors. The entire crew was here, everyone from the lighting technicians to the lead actors.

That was how he wanted it.

Success wasn't the work of a single individual, and Regal understood the importance of recognizing every hand that had shaped the film.

As he approached, laughter and snippets of conversation filled the air. Through the glass, he spotted familiar faces, their expressions relaxed, their smiles easy.

The atmosphere inside was celebratory.

Taking a steady breath, he pushed the door open.

The moment he stepped inside, a sharp gaze locked onto him.

Seren - his sister.

She stood near the entrance, arms crossed, her signature look of disapproval firmly in place.

"You didn't wear the suit I gave you?" She complained, her gaze sweeping over his outfit.

Regal glanced down at himself - he already knew what she was seeing. A sleek, geometric-print button-up, slim tapered jeans, and sneakers with a futuristic design. A decade ahead of its time, at least in this timeline.

It was stylish, sure, but not quite the formal attire Seren had painstakingly chosen for the occasion.

"It's not like we invited the press." He replied.

By now, heads had turned, and the room collectively noticed his arrival.

"Yep, that's definitely something Regal would say." - someone quipped from the back.

"No doubt about it." - another chimed in, laughter following soon after.

And then, a playful shout rose from the crowd. "Don't worry, Regal, we don't judge you!"

Regal smirked, firing back. "Elias, you don't have a girlfriend yet, so your opinion doesn't matter."

A chorus of exaggerated reactions followed.

"Hahhaa…"

"Hah…"

"Haahhhaaaaaa…"

Laughter rippled through the room, the energy shifting into something livelier, more infectious. Even the quieter ones found themselves grinning.

"Hey, what does not having a girlfriend have to do with this?" - the same voice called out, mock-indignant.

"There is a lot to do with it, man." - someone else chuckled.

Another voice chimed in. "Wait, Mike, don't you also not have a girlfriend?"

Meanwhile, Regal moved through the crowd, exchanging greetings and quick words with crew members.

Seren trailed behind, her unimpressed expression firmly in place. Yet, even she couldn't ignore the effect Regal had on those around him.

For all his rough edges, his presence subtly altered the atmosphere, steadying the energy while somehow heightening it at the same time.

As Regal scanned the room, his gaze moved over the gathering, taking in every detail.

On one side, Keanu stood at the centre of a group, talking with his usual enthusiasm.

Beside him, Andrew nodded along, occasionally chiming in.

Off to the side, Grace stood in her usual quiet presence, observing the room with a calm demeanor. Simon, who had played a supporting role in the film, stood next to her, exchanging words with Zack, the editor.

Tom, the middle-aged actor who had portrayed the police officer, leaned against a nearby table, a drink in hand and a relaxed smile on his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, Regal also noticed Ben and Darren. There was still a bit of tension between them, but with drinks in their hands, it didn't seem like anything serious.

As Regal made his way towards the centre of the room, something caught his eye, a chair.

Not just any chair, but a director's chair, placed right in the middle of the gathering.

It wasn't anything fancy, no decorative details or flashy design.

Just a plain, practical chair, yet it stood out, commanding attention in a way that felt deliberate.

Regal arched his brow. "What is this?"

Before anyone else could answer, Keanu broke away from his group, grinning as he approached. "What? Feeling touched already?"

Simon smirked, jumping in before Regal could respond.

"It was Grace's idea." He said, nodding towards the quiet girl standing off to the side. "You know, since you barely had a chance to sit in the director's chair during production. Always running around with that heavy camera."

Regal's gaze flicked to Grace. As expected, she said nothing, only glancing away as if the conversation didn't concern her. But the faint blush dusting her cheeks gave her away.

"Haa…" Regal let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. Stepping closer, he placed a hand on the back of the chair, running his fingers over the smooth wood. "Well, at least it's good to know someone noticed how much work I was doing."

Keanu clapped a hand on his back. "Don't get all sentimental on us now. You are already hard enough to deal with without adding emotions into the mix."

Laughter rippled through the room, and Regal couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah, no chance of that. I just didn't think you lot actually cared."

Regal took a moment to look around at everyone, his crew, his team, the people who had worked tirelessly to bring [Following] to life. He was never one for grand gestures, but something about this, the simplicity of it, left an impact.

Finally, Regal added. "Alright, let's see if this chair is as comfortable as it looks."

"Horaayyyy!!" - "Wooohhh!"

The moment he sank into it, the crew erupted into cheers, some clapping, others tossing out playful jabs.

"Look at him, finally taking his rightful throne!" Keanu teased, lifting his drink in an exaggerated toast.

Regal smirked, leaning back with exaggerated ease. "Alright, enough of that. We're here to celebrate. Someone hand me a drink."

Simon was already a step ahead, holding out a bottle. "Figured you would ask. Here."

Taking it, Regal pushed himself to his feet, raising the bottle high. "To all of you, for making [Following] what it is today. Cheers!"

Cheers erupted again, louder this time, as the crew toasted, clinking glasses, bottles, and even plastic cups together.

"To Regal!" someone called out from the back.

"To [Following]!" Andrew added, his voice carrying over the crowd.

Grace and Zack had joined the circle now, and Grace shot him a sidelong look. "You barely lasted a minute in that chair."

"Yeah, well." Regal said, holding up the bottle with a shrug. "I work better on my feet."

"Spoken like a true workaholic." Zack muttered, shaking his head.

The atmosphere remained charged with energy, conversation flowing freely as laughter and stories passed between them.

Regal moved through the crowd, exchanging nods and words of appreciation with Keanu, Andrew, Grace, Simon, Zack, and Tom, the people who had poured their time and effort into the film.

Then, a vibration in his pocket.

He pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. An unknown number.

He hesitated for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket.

Tonight wasn't about business, it was about them.

Just as he was about to turn away, his gaze landed on someone standing off to the side.

When did he get here?

Long blonde hair, a polite but somewhat reserved smile, one that barely concealed how out of place he looked.

Ludwig Göransson.

Regal frowned slightly. He had made sure to greet everyone, yet he was certain Ludwig hadn't been here earlier.

Without a second thought, he set his drink down and made his way toward him.

Ludwig blinked, visibly caught off guard as Regal approached.

"Hey, Ludwig. Guess your sense of time is even worse than mine." Regal greeted him with an easy smirk.

A few people nearby glanced over, briefly curious about who Regal was talking to. But from his casual tone, they quickly assumed the newcomer must be someone important to him.

Ludwig let out a short chuckle. "Yeah, my bad. Had some last-minute sound mixing for the next episode."

Regal waved it off. "Nah, I am just messing with you." He turned back toward the others and raised his voice. "Hey guys, I know it's late, but this here is Ludwig Göransson, the guy behind the music for [Following]."

A brief pause, then recognition clicked.

"Ohh! Welcome to the crew, man!"

"Yeah, good to finally meet you!"

"Dude, your work on the film was amazing."

Ludwig's shoulders relaxed a little as he nodded in appreciation, his smile becoming more natural.

"..."

But the initial burst of greetings faded just as quickly as it came, leaving behind an awkward silence, the kind that happens when people finally meet someone they have only heard about.

Even Regal's closest crew, including Keanu, had never actually met Ludwig in person - they had praised his work and acknowledged his contribution, but he still felt like an outsider.

Unlike the rest of them, he hadn't spent a month together on set, sharing late-night shoots, inside jokes, and exhaustion-fueled bonding.

Regal picked up on it immediately.

Without missing a beat, he clapped a firm hand on Ludwig's back and nudged him forward. "Alright, I have got an idea."

Ludwig barely had time to process before Regal continued, ignoring the questioning looks. "Let's have Ludwig sing a song for us."

Ludwig's head snapped up. "Wait, what—?"

Regal was already moving. He pulled out his phone, shot a quick signal to the DJ, then turned to Seren. "Seren, record this for me, will you?"

Before Ludwig could object, a mic was shoved into his hands.

"…Sing?" He stared at it, then at the expectant faces around him.

"Yeah, man. Let's have them hear what they missed in the film." Regal's voice carried a knowing edge.

And just like that, Ludwig understood.

The song.

The one they had poured their hearts into, the one meant for [Following], was only to be scrapped at the last minute for many following reasons.

Budget. Deadline.

…and most importantly, Regal couldn't find the voice for it - a professional vocalist.

He had fought for it, argued with Regal, frustrated that something so important had been tossed aside.

Regal had promised it would make it onto the DVD release. Ludwig had agreed, not out of certainty, but out of hope.

Because he didn't want this song, his best work, to gather dust in some forgotten folder.

Something about Regal's lyrics, the way they bled into the film's characters, had moved him in a way he couldn't quite explain. It was rare to find that kind of synergy, and he wanted people to hear it.

And now, apparently, they would.

The awkward tension from before had shifted, curiosity and anticipation filling the space instead. Even Keanu, who had been quietly sizing Ludwig up from the side, leaned in with interest.

The DJ queued up the track. A familiar hum filled the speakers.

Ludwig hesitated for just a second, then stepped forward, adjusting his grip on the mic.

The first chords hit, stripped-down.

The murmurs died. The air tightened.

Then Ludwig's voice, low and tentative at first, cut through the silence like a whisper against static.

"Ooooooh—stop…"

His voice was soft at first, barely above a whisper.

"With your feet in the air and your head on the ground

Try this trick and spin it, yeah…

Your head will collapse

But there's nothing in it

And you'll ask

Oh, where is my mind?

Oh, where is my mind?

Oh, where is my mind?"

Ludwig's voice carried through the room, no longer tentative.

The words lingered, more than just lyrics, they were a question that had no real answer.

"I think I am alone now,

The crowd has gone home now,

I think I am alone now,

The crowd has gone home now…

Oh, where is my mind?"

The melody settled over the crowd like a slow, rolling tide. This was the soul of the song, the version that never made it into the film, stripped of studio polish, left raw and aching.

As the song neared its end, the DJ looped the outro, a dissonant, feedback-drenched riff humming through the speakers. The room vibrated with it, a stark contrast to the smooth, radio-friendly score that had made it into the final cut.

Ludwig's voice dropped to a whisper, the edges frayed, trembling.

"Oh, where is my mind?

Oh, where is my mind?

Oh, where is my mind?"

Then, silence.

For a heartbeat, the entire room stood still.

Then, one clap.

Keanu.

Another. And another.

The applause swelled into a roar, rippling through the space, turning into a standing ovation that shook the floorboards.

A voice from the back rang out, clear and insistent.

Ludwig stood there, frozen, the mic still in his hand.

Regal lunged forward, slapping him on the back with a grin. "That was freaking awesome!"

But Ludwig wasn't looking at Regal. His gaze locked onto Seren's phone screen, catching the faces in the crowd, teary, awestruck, connected.

The moment the applause began to fade, Keanu stepped closer, his expression still caught between disbelief and something close to reverence. "That's the song you cut?"

Regal grinned, nodding. "Not for long. DVD release. Promise."

Ludwig swallowed hard, his throat tight.

The song wasn't forgotten anymore.

....

[Song Name: Pixies - Where Is My Mind]

….

[To be continued…]

★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★

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