A Monodrama for Carolyn August - Chapter 17

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 17.
‘That’s right, it was.’
When Aiden first took on such a role, it sent shockwaves through many in the industry.
“What Sylvia Left Behind” was a play adapted from an original novel.
Though the play itself didn’t delve deeply into certain content, the novel was faithful to its Adult Rating, so when Caroline heard that Aiden was joining the production, she felt some apprehension.
“I was quite surprised when I heard about it. Aiden’s third leading role being ‘What Sylvia Left Behind’—”
“I wanted to bring change to my image, which might otherwise have grown stale after starting as a child actor.”
And it had worked.
Though he had only handled conventional roles before, he came to be seen less as an actor with outstanding Acting Ability and more as one whose popularity defined an era.
Yet by portraying a mechanical character whom few could easily grasp, he earned recognition for his craft at an even deeper level.
“Honestly, I was worried that Aiden made a truly risky choice. It was a role where there was nothing to lose but everything to gain.”
Aiden took a sip of Lemonade and nodded.
“The role of Ipros was far more difficult than the bold choice I made in selecting it. I too found Ipros hard to understand. Since it was my first time staging this play, I had no choice but to rely on the novel.”
Ipros was Isaha’s mother—the core body assembled by Sylvia, then wrapped in a material most resembling human skin by Isaha’s father, creating a mechanical being.
Having ceased functioning not long after creation, Ipros lay buried in the Warehouse, and only when Isaha found her had much time passed.
“An adult body housing a personality far more ignorant and immature than a child. She fears being shut down and forgotten in some corner above all else, making her deeply dependent on Isaha.”
“She remembers the sensation of clay being attached to her as love from Isaha’s parents, and so carries a hunger for physical contact with Isaha born of that deprivation.”
“Exactly. That very fact nearly prevented the work from reaching the stage.”
Caroline remembered that time.
There had been a moment when the play’s ratings restrictions hung in the balance because of the novel’s adult content.
“But it did reach the stage. And that was thanks to Aiden.”
The original novelist had bristled at criticism that his work was suggestive.
His story was a forward-looking science fantasy novel, and what critics deemed adult in nature was merely one facet of character development.
Yet hidebound figures in the Theater World dismissed him.
“At the time, I understood both sides. That’s why I predicted this conflict wouldn’t end quickly. I even wondered if I might not live to see Aiden’s play open.”
“Caroline, have I ever moved against a side I believed to be right?”
Aiden drew both knees to his chest and, resting his arms upon them, gazed out toward the distant Lake.
Migratory birds soared overhead, drawing a line across the water’s surface.
Caroline watched his eyes from the side, reflecting the blue of the shoreline.
“The truth is, I thought the original novelist’s position was mistaken.”
“Really?”
It was an unexpected confession.
Because…….
“But you took his side, didn’t you?”
Even Caroline, who understood the novelist’s heart, could not have claimed his novel wasn’t suggestive.
“Yes, I did think the story being staged was suggestive. Ipros and Isaha achieve spiritual love only in the second half of the play, but they share physical intimacy from the very beginning.”
“Then why…….”
Caroline watched him with wavering eyes, waiting for what came next.
“I disliked the Theater World establishment.”
The light in his eyes, which had been speaking in flat tones, suddenly flared.
A clear defiance shone through like green glimmers upon water.
“What does it matter if it’s suggestive? What does it matter if adult content reaches the stage? I wanted to show those stuffy, mustachioed people who swagger about in their refinement that there exists a world they don’t know, and it is beautiful.”
Caroline found herself unable to respond.
Gaunt, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, yet in this moment Aiden was overwhelmingly bold.
“My Ticket Power convinced those vulgar men chasing money, even if they lacked principle.”
In that instant, Aiden laughed like a beast.
“My argument—that the question was not whether something is suggestive or not, but whether it has merit to be staged—won over the original novelist’s heart.”
Because of that, he said, he was able to practice the character through communication with the novelist rather than studying a single novel alone.
Caroline, learning this for the first time, neither rejoiced nor expressed surprise, but sat quietly.
Aiden was always composed yet pleasant.
At the Mansion, too, he had always carried an air of weariness and dullness.
Yet in his eyes as he recalled the play’s story lay a wildness like that of an untamed horse, and when he performed a role, he was a far more combative person than one might have guessed.
‘He’s never looked more alive than he does right now.’
For just this moment, he seemed more than a mere character.
“And that was one of my finest decisions, Caroline. There has never been a role as enjoyable as Ipros.”
“In what way?”
Whenever he gave interviews in magazines, he always spoke of the most recently closed play’s character as the most delightful.
So this was the first time he’d said anything like this.
“Ipros is a character who has no intention of hiding her anxiety. She’s a machine who never learned such artifice.”
That’s why she whines like a child, grows petulant when denied attention—and that, he said, was simply wonderful.
Aiden leaned in and whispered, and Caroline burst into laughter.
“So you had an excuse to act like a child?”
“An excellent excuse, Caroline. No one treats you as a child, but you can indulge your own whims. It’s a different kind of pleasure than playing James.”
“When did you want to act like a child?”
Caroline laughed brightly, and Aiden smiled in turn, lost in recollection.
“When I felt anxious about the next scene, I’d weave a bit more personal petulance into the previous one, throwing a small tantrum. The director loved it.”
“Ah, so it was a legitimate opportunity to be irritable?”
Her actor was slipping irritation into his performance under the guise of acting, claiming it had worked out beautifully—it was too amusing.
Seeing how delighted Caroline was, Aiden quickly composed his expression.
“Well, don’t look at me that way, Caroline. Everyone wants to do that sometimes, don’t they?”
“Of course, I know. Ah, I wish I’d learned to act a little. Then I could have done it too.”
Her face, bright with laughter and eyes curved like crescents, fell silent at the words she’d tossed out so casually.
‘Did I misspeak?’
She wondered if he might have taken it as a dismissal of his craft. The misunderstanding wasn’t necessarily glaring, but her expression had shifted noticeably enough that Caroline bit her lip.
Yet his reaction didn’t seem angry.
“Still.”
The lakeside wind brushed across the thin man’s cheek.
At the same time, it caught her hair and sent it tumbling, and Caroline squeezed her eyes shut.
“……not learning was probably the wiser choice.”
His long fingers gathered the loose strands of hair and tucked them behind her ear.
Once her hair was cleared away, Aiden’s face came into view—his expression had grown suddenly quiet, yet he was smiling. Only the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, a bittersweet expression.
‘Why does he look so hurt?’
Caught off guard by the sudden shift, Caroline could only blink, bewildered.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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