Six More To Go

….

The special show for the kids and their parents was completed.

The theatre was almost empty now, as the lights had come up - and the occasional murmurs of a cleaning staff could be heard from outside as they were preparing.

However, they haven't proceeded, because of a presence inside.

Regal.

He still stood where he had been the whole film - at the balcony's edge, just behind the exit door.

The last two hours had been constant monitoring of reactions - making sure he captured everything and everyone.

And the emotions he witnessed were the purest he had ever seen.

It doesn't matter whether it was - love, laughter, heroism, fear, anger, disgust or wonder.

Just ten minutes ago, the space had been packed with all these emotions generated from the people - the people who he makes films for.

And this was the ultimate satisfaction he yearned for - at this moment, wherever effort he had put in - all felt worth it.

He could still recollect how the first flash of the film title - [Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone] - had sent a ripple of squeals and yells down the rows - preparing themselves for the ride.

And that was just the beginning of Regal's most memorable firsthand pre and unbiased reactions of what had come with every character intros, and scene progressions.

Indeed, nothing can beat this feeling.

Regal could still see it, could feel it in his chest like an echo.

….

Simon had been there too.

He had looked back once, during the final act, searching for Regal up in the dark.

When he spotted him still standing, he gave a soft shake of his head and turned back to the film with a half-smile.

Muttering, no doubt. "He is not coming down, again."

Down in the front, Tom had nudged Rupert - Ron, and whispered something that made both of them laugh hard enough to get shushed by the girl beside them.

Not that anyone minded, it was joy.

Honest, unfiltered, familiar.

Even the parents, Regal recalled, weren't immune, some of them had softened visibly during the movie.

Leaned in with quiet smiles, one dad in particular - he remembered this clearly - had his arm around his daughter's shoulders the entire time, never moving it once.

That kind of thing stuck with Regal more than the applause.

The applause was gone now, the people too…

Only a few plastic cups were left behind, a soft trail of popcorn, faint fingerprints on the back of a seat from a child who had stood up too fast.

And silence…

He should have left too…

Everyone else had.

But he stayed, like he always did.

Because this was the real part, for him, not the red carpet or the box office numbers.

It was the space after the story ended - when you are left standing with nothing but the feeling of what it all meant.

His gaze drifted down toward a particular row, center-right, that's where Gwendolyn would have sat, had she been here.

And if she had been here, she would have rolled her eyes at him still standing up here.

Or more likely, dragged him down into a seat against his will, and whispered every five minutes how proud she was.

Even now, he could almost hear her voice, teasing and soft.

He missed that.

He missed her.

She would have loved this.

And just as he turned to take one final look… something shifted.

A quiet rustle behind him, the sound of brisk heels on wood and then—

"I swear, sneaking in is the only way to catch you red-handed." A familiar voice whispered low, a little breathless.

Regal didn't turn right away.

He knew that voice.

"You are late…" He said quietly.

When he did finally look, there she was.

Gwendolyn.

Her coat folded over one arm, hair slightly windswept from the night air, strands framing her flushed face, there was a little grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

She stepped fully into the balcony light, scanning the cinema hall like she was trying to soak in what was left of the moment.

"Barely missed it…" she whispered. "Caught the ending… from the corridor."

She looked past him, toward the empty rows, and now dimmed out the projection.

Even though the room was empty, it still felt full energy.

Regal instinctively stepped aside, letting her join him at the railing, she did, leaning slightly forward, fingers resting just where he had been a moment earlier.

For a while, they didn't say anything.

She smiled as she looked over the room, seeing not the absence of people, but the presence of something left behind.

"You stood here the whole time… huh?"

He exhaled. "Guess I did."

Gwendolyn looked forward again aimlessly.

"You know." She said. "You really are going to wear out that doorway."

Regal let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing against hers where it rested on the rail.

"And that's the first thing you say after sneaking in?" He asked, feigning offense.

He was going to add something else, but he never got the chance.

Because Gwendolyn, without warning, closed the distance and threw her arms around him in a tight, breathless hug.

Regal was surprised at first, until her voice cracked gently near his ear.

"Thank you." She whispered. "Thank you for everything, that was the most magical thing I have ever watched."

He didn't need to ask if she meant it, he could feel it.

In the weight of her arms, the way she held on - not like a person clinging to a person, but like someone holding onto a feeling.

Happiness.

Pure, unfiltered happiness.

In that second, she could have been the happiest person in the world.

Regal, smiling now, pulled her in a little tighter, whatever tension he had been carrying all night slipped out of his shoulders.

After a moment, he whispered into her hair with mock seriousness. "You know… you still have six more babies to raise."

"Hhah…" She laughed softly against his chest.

It was an inside joke - one they had shared since the beginning, Gwendolyn always called [Harry Potter] her daughter, not just a book.

A daughter, Regal never asked why, and she never explained.

It just was.

"Well…." She said, pulling back slightly, her eyes glassy but warm. "If the rest grow up anything like this one… we will be fine."

They stood there a while longer, two silhouettes against the quiet hush of a theatre that had already lived a thousand lifetimes in a single night.

….

Behind the far corner of the balcony hall, just out of sight from where Regal and Gwendolyn stood by the railing, Simon tilted his head and grinned.

He wasn't trying very hard to hide the fact that he was watching them.

In fact, he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"Damn." He whispered under his breath, arms folded, leaning slightly against the wall. "That was smooth, Regal… real smooth."

He was still grinning when Samantha shot him a sideways glare.

"Simon." She hissed, tugging at his sleeve. "You can't just spy on our boss like this."

"I am not spying." He replied, still staring ahead like a man watching the final scene of a romance film unfold in real time. "I am appreciative."

"You are eavesdropping."

"It's not my fault they are standing in a public doorway whispering sweet nothings about magical children." He said, shrugging. "Besides, don't act like you are not watching too."

Samantha crossed her arms tightly. "I am watching you."

That was a lie, she had stolen at least three glances.

A few feet behind them, Rock, the ever-silent, ever-watchful bodyguard, stood like a human statue.

He had shown up a few minutes ago, returning with Gwendolyn after escorting her from the airport.

Samantha glanced over her shoulder and whispered. "How is he okay with this?"

She was still baffled at how Simon, just two minutes earlier, had managed to talk him into letting them 'observe.'

They had originally come to call Regal back, it had been a while, and he hadn't returned downstairs, but they had been stopped cold by Rock.

"Miss Gwendolyn ordered me to not let anyone pass by." He had said, short and simple.

That's when Simon, with that same dangerous charm he used on casting assistants and coffee vendors alike, decided to bend things a little.

"—We are just checking on Regal." He spoke smoothly. "Standard safety protocol."

Rock had raised a brow.

"And we are not going in." Simon continued. "Technically, that means you are not breaking any of Gwen's instructions."

Still no response.

"I mean, she said not to let anyone pass the hallway." Simon added with a slow hand gesture. "We stopped, that's a responsible decision, right?"

Now, back in the present, Samantha stared at Simon, still processing it.

Simon grinned and whispered. "I explained the difference, Rock accepted the logic."

Behind them, Rock hadn't moved an inch, if he disagreed now, he certainly didn't show it.

Samantha sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"You and your damn loopholes." She muttered, still a little red in the face.

But she didn't walk away.

And neither did Rock.

So for the moment, the three of them stood there, side by side in the shadows, silent witnesses to something rare and unspoken.

Gwendolyn had leaned her head gently against Regal's shoulder now, the theatre silent.

And the three spectators?

They didn't interrupt.

Not until the scene, their real scene, was ready to end.

.

….

[To be continued…]

★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★

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