Ade had been around the Bing long enough to understand the unspoken rules. You didn't walk too fast through the place, like you were on your way to an interview. You didn't linger too long in the wrong corner, like you were looking for trouble. You didn't talk unless someone asked you a question, and even then you measured your words like coins.
Tonight, none of that mattered.
Christopher had come storming into the apartment earlier, Adriana trailing behind him like a shadow. His shirt half buttoned, his hair slicked back unevenly, he'd barked out the words without meeting Ade's eyes:
"Tony wants to see you. At the Bing. Tonight."
The air in the room had changed immediately. Ade felt it in his chest, like the sudden shift when a plane dips unexpectedly. Adriana glanced between them, her mouth opening then closing, as if she wanted to stop this train before it left the station. But Christopher was already pacing, muttering about how Ade better not screw this up.
Now, standing outside the strip club's glowing neon, Ade took a long breath. He knew this wasn't about the movie, not really. It was about Tony, about whether this strange kid who always seemed to have the right words in the right moment was someone to humor, or someone to keep a closer eye on.
Inside, the Bing was its usual blur of bass-heavy music and laughter that didn't quite reach the eyes. The smell of smoke and perfume clung to the air. Ade followed Chris toward the back, past dancers weaving between tables, until they reached the heavy door that led to Tony's office.
Silvio stood outside, arms crossed, his face carved from granite. He gave Ade a long once-over before glancing at Christopher.
"This him?" Silvio's voice was flat.
Chris nodded. "Yeah, this is him. Ade."
Silvio stepped aside, though not without a parting shot. "Hope he's better with movies than he is with introductions."
Ade smiled politely but said nothing. Rule number one: don't take the bait.
The office was dimmer than the club, the sound muffled, though the low thump of bass still pulsed faintly through the walls. Tony sat behind his desk, chewing on a cigar though it wasn't lit. Paulie was perched on the couch, his white hair gleaming under the lamp. Pussy leaned against the far wall, arms folded, watching.
Tony's eyes flicked up as Ade entered. He didn't motion for him to sit right away, letting the silence stretch.
"So," Tony said finally, his voice carrying that mix of boredom and quiet threat, "this is the kid with the big ideas."
Christopher hovered near the door, shifting from one foot to the other. Ade stayed standing, hands at his sides, posture steady.
"I guess that's me," Ade said carefully.
Tony smirked, tapping ash from the unlit cigar onto a tray. "Chris here tells me you got a movie idea. Not another one of these mob pictures, I hope. We don't need the FBI learning how we tie our shoes."
Paulie chuckled, shaking his head. "I told him, Tone. You see the way they glamorize this shit? Next thing you know, some pimple-faced kid thinks he's Al Capone, robbing gas stations."
Ade cleared his throat lightly. "It's not a mob movie. It's horror."
Tony raised his eyebrows. "Horror. What, like Dracula? Freddy Krueger? Guys running around in masks and shit?"
Ade shook his head. "Not exactly. It's more… grounded. The idea is to make it feel real. Like the audience isn't watching actors, but actual people. You give them shaky camera footage, normal conversations, things that seem mundane at first. And then slowly, you let the fear creep in. Until they can't tell if it's fake or real."
Paulie squinted, skeptical. "Shaky camera? Who the fuck's gonna pay money to get seasick?"
Even Pussy cracked a grin.
But Tony didn't laugh. He leaned back, studying Ade with a look that was half curiosity, half appraisal. "So, you're saying… people like it 'cause it looks real."
"Exactly," Ade said. "It's cheap to make, but the audience fills in the gaps with their imagination. That's what scares them, not special effects, not monsters. It's the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it actually happened."
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Paulie snorted again. "Sounds like a scam. You shoot a couple idiots in the woods with a camcorder and call it a movie?"
Tony ignored him. He tapped the desk, eyes narrowing. "You believe in this?"
Ade met his gaze. "Yes."
It wasn't bravado. He said it simply, like a fact.
Christopher jumped in, voice eager but edged with defensiveness. "Tone, it's got legs. I mean, you look at the market, right? Slashers are dead, nobody's scared of hockey masks no more. But this? This could be the next big thing."
Tony's expression softened just a fraction at Chris's enthusiasm, though he didn't look away from Ade.
"You know," Tony said, chewing his cigar, "there's something I like about this. It's… different. Everybody's out there chasing the same shit, guns, tits, explosions. But this, it's like… you're flipping it on its head. Making people scared of nothing."
Paulie frowned. "I don't get it."
"That's the point," Tony snapped, waving a hand. "You ain't supposed to get it. It's for the kids. They eat this shit up."
Ade caught the flicker of pride on Christopher's face, though it was tempered by a shadow of resentment. This was his world, his dream, and now Tony was listening more to Ade than to him.
Tony leaned forward, planting his elbows on the desk. "Alright, say we go through with this. Who makes it happen? You?"
Christopher stepped forward quickly. "Me. I mean, us. I'll handle the writing, the directing. Ade's just… he's helping me brainstorm."
Tony smirked. "Helping, huh? Seems to me he's doing a lot of the heavy lifting."
The tension in the room thickened. Christopher's jaw clenched, and Ade could almost feel Adriana's imagined eyes boring into his back, the silent plea not to push Chris too far.
So he smiled faintly and stepped back. "Chris is the real filmmaker. I'm just… giving him a spark."
That seemed to ease Tony, who liked balance, liked knowing the hierarchy was intact. He leaned back again, waving the cigar. "Alright. We'll see where it goes. Don't make me regret wasting my time."
Christopher exhaled, shoulders loosening.
Paulie stood, brushing off his pants. "I still say it's bullshit. But hey, what do I know? I still got a Betamax."
The room chuckled, breaking the tension.
Tony dismissed them with a flick of his hand. As Ade turned to leave, he felt Tony's eyes on him still, sharp and calculating.
Back in the club, Chris grabbed Ade by the arm. His grip was tighter than necessary, his voice low and charged.
"You almost stepped on my dick in there. Don't forget who's the director, alright? This is my shot."
Ade met his glare calmly. "I know. I'm just trying to help you take it."
For a second, it seemed like Chris might swing. But then the fight drained out of him, replaced by a grin that was half crazed, half relieved.
"Jesus Christ," he muttered, shaking his head. "Tony actually liked it."
Ade didn't answer. He just lit a cigarette and watched the smoke curl upward, disappearing into the haze above the Bing.
Adriana was waiting outside when they emerged. She looked at Chris first, searching his face, then at Ade.
"Well?" she asked.
Chris's grin widened. "Tone's on board. Can you believe it? He actually fuckin' liked it!"
Adriana smiled, though her eyes flicked to Ade again, reading something unsaid. Something deeper.
Ade just shrugged, exhaling smoke into the night.
"It's a start."