A Monodrama for Carolyn August - Chapter 54

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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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Episode 54.
Aiden was exceptional.
He had a gift for imagining any situation and setting, then behaving as though they were utterly real.
It was a depth of skill that even adult actors struggled to reach, let alone child actors.
After Evan cast Aiden in one of his productions,
Aiden quickly landed contracts for several more plays.
He had not only won Evan’s favor but captivated other directors in his circle as well.
For a child actor, he was already receiving an unusually high appearance fee, with portions paid in advance.
“Aiden is truly remarkable, Michelle. He’ll be a wonderful actor. Just like you were as a girl—shining brilliantly with talent.”
Mileva’s work was finished there.
She drove Aiden to the Mansion, spoke those words to Michelle, who seemed unmoved, and returned home.
She had wanted to believe in Aiden’s talent and champion him.
And she had hoped that by recalling Michelle’s former glory, the woman might recover even a glimmer of vitality. Those were her reasons.
“He’ll be a wonderful actor. Just like you were as a girl—shining brilliantly with talent.”
Upon hearing her words, Michelle found herself thinking of The Count again.
He had come to her during the time when she shone brightest.
He must have been captivated by the brilliant skill she displayed upon the stage.
And she thought:
‘Then, if he were to witness such remarkable talent again, wouldn’t his attention turn that way?’
The Michelle of today could no longer perform beautifully as a dancer, as she once had.
But she had a son, did she not.
A prodigy of acting, with the extraordinary talent Mileva had spoken of.
Michelle made her decision.
She would raise her son to greatness and ensure that The Count’s gaze fell upon him, even once.
And within the Darvel Mansion, hell unfolded.
Michelle began to conduct herself as though her very life depended upon Aiden’s performance.
Despite his already remarkable skill as a child actor, Michelle saw nothing but flaws in her son.
“Stop making that same expression the entire time.”
“Don’t twist your mouth when you cry. It’s hideous.”
“Can’t you enunciate more clearly?”
At merely ten years old, Aiden was demanded to achieve perfection in his acting.
Michelle followed him to his performances, watched over him, and offered meticulous feedback on every shortcoming.
She did not stop at urging him to improve and develop.
If Aiden failed to meet her requirements, she would withhold meals, beat him harshly, or refuse to let him sleep.
This control gradually extended into every aspect of Aiden’s life.
Unless it was for acting, he was not permitted free time to read, play football, play chess, or anything else.
He had to remain within his mother’s sight and was not allowed to move about as he wished.
The placement of Aiden’s room directly in front of Michelle’s own was for this very reason.
Whether fortunate or unfortunate,
as a result of Michelle’s rigorous training, Aiden garnered conspicuous attention.
“The finest child actor—no bad habits, no juvenile shortcomings…… What manner of actor will he become?”
Actors tend to have certain expressions and gestures they use as shortcuts.
Small mannerisms that, if not careful, can tire an audience.
But because he had a mother who obsessively hunted down such flaws, Aiden maintained habits cleaner than those of adults.
His delivery of lines, his management of gaze, his emotional expression—nothing bore the mark of immaturity.
Renowned directors praised him as though he had been sculpted by a machine.
A machine.
If a machine is an entity that operates blindly according to its embedded programming, then it was apt.
Aiden had been raised as a machine by Michelle’s hand.
Time passed.
Aiden grew into a teenage boy capable of taking on a greater variety of roles.
Naturally, the number of productions seeking him increased.
Soon he found himself preparing for two or more plays simultaneously.
For Aiden, this was no small source of stress.
It was difficult enough to immerse himself in a single role, and now he had to juggle multiple characters.
It was an understandable confusion and burden, but Michelle refused to allow her son to falter under its weight and produce substandard work.
Aiden had to obtain more roles.
He had to work faster, busier, and receive more attention.
Then came a particular day.
The Mansion had become far more splendid than it had been on the day Mileva first visited.
Michelle’s appearance was much the same.
She wore expensive dresses and jewelry, and kept many similar things stored in one corner of her room.
All of it was money earned by the son she had raised, trained, and made act.
That day was like any other—she was fingering her pearl necklace while gazing into a mirror.
Knock, knock.
A polite, measured knock sounded at the door.
From that alone, Michelle knew who it was.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Aiden, dressed in a crisp shirt and brown vest, entered with light steps and closed the door behind him.
“Dinner is ready, Mother.”
Michelle lifted her gaze from the ornate hand mirror to look at her son.
Her long nails tapped, tap-tap, against the back of the mirror.
It was not a pleasant sound.
“Say it like James would.”
James Blair.
It was the role Aiden had taken in the play “Quiet Graduation,” which dealt with the friendship between a temporary teacher and students at a school facing closure.
A troubled student who weighted the argument for shutting down the school.
A rebellious, violent boy whom not a single adult in the rural town looked upon kindly.
“Pardon?”
It was a bewildering command.
Without thinking, Aiden repeated it back, stupidly.
But no answer came.
Confused by the silence, as he looked calmly at his mother, Michelle regarded him in return with an unchanging, cold gaze.
And after a long moment, she gestured.
A signal to come closer.
The moment Aiden, with clasped hands, arrived before her desk at the slowest possible pace.
Crack!
His head snapped to the side.
“James wouldn’t repeat back like such an idiot.”
“……!”
A sharp, cutting sound that seemed impossible for a delicate woman to produce.
Young Aiden, clutching his cheek, had to struggle to understand what had just happened.
His face flushed hot, but the back of his neck went cold.
‘What is this?’
Some kind of shock treatment?
The absurdity of it left him reeling, as if he’d stumbled into a melodrama.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and he felt every hair on his body stand on end.
“Mother.”
“Again!”
This time a cold hand struck the other cheek.
It felt as though his ears were ringing.
His heart pounded wildly, blood surging through his body, yet he felt frozen all over.
Only then did Aiden understand.
His mother wanted him to behave like the character he was playing.
This was not a soundstage, and they were not rehearsing.
But that did not matter to Michelle.
A hollow laugh escaped him—but this was the method Michelle had chosen.
Aiden had no choice.
“……Ha.”
Aiden slowly raised his head to look at his mother.
Eyes bitter and treacherous.
She showed no remorse whatsoever for striking her son’s face.
In that moment, defiance stirred within him.
Something twisted and bitter rose up from deep inside.
“If you want to starve, then stay here.”
It was a disrespectful remark.
What kind of child spoke to their own mother that way?
Even as he spat out the words, Aiden caught himself and quickly checked his mother’s face.
“……!”
She was smiling—a smile more radiant than he had ever seen.
Curved eyes, brilliant white teeth, lips lined with lipstick so perfectly applied there wasn’t a millimeter of imperfection.
Michelle was strikingly beautiful, and anyone would have called that image lovely.
And yet Aiden found it utterly strange.
It was almost frightening.
‘Like a monster.’
So without a word of greeting, he shut the door with a bang and hurried downstairs to the Dining Room.
As though he were fleeing.
It was only later that he learned Michelle had actually approved of even that act—his hasty retreat carried such a defiant spirit that it pleased her.

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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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