Was Once the King: Chapter 18: The Dust Settles Where It Must

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The week after the interview, the world spun differently.

Hector Brandon's name no longer belonged to whispers or headlines dripping in scandal. It belonged to stories now. To voices rising. To fans remembering not what he'd lost, but what he'd survived.

Studios sent scripts again. Directors whispered his name in meetings like a secret they didn't want stolen. And every time he stepped on set, someone new would stop to nod. Not with pity. Not with shame. But with something resembling respect.

And Sam Aron noticed.

He'd seen it in the articles. Felt it in the silence that followed whenever he entered a room. The industry didn't say it aloud, but they'd chosen.

They had chosen Hector.

It began one afternoon, near the end of rehearsal.

Benjamin and Hector had just finished blocking a quiet scene—one that had no dialogue, just a long, lingering look between Oran and Cale as the war behind them faded into memory.

The director gave a quiet nod. "Perfect. You've both settled into this like it was always written for you."

Benjamin grinned. "Maybe it was."

They laughed, light and easy, and began gathering their things when a familiar voice broke the air.

"Can we talk?"

Hector turned.

Sam.

Standing there in the doorway, eyes careful, smile faint. That same practiced charm that used to sway entire press conferences. Only now it felt like a mask.

Benjamin stepped closer to Hector without a word. Not shielding. Just present.

Hector nodded slowly. "Talk, then."

The director raised a brow but slipped out quietly, giving them space.

Sam stepped forward. "I saw the interview."

Hector said nothing.

Sam continued, "I know I messed up. I didn't come here to deny that."

"You didn't come to deny it before." Hector said, voice even. "You just never stayed long enough to face it."

Sam's jaw tightened. "I thought I was protecting us."

"No." Hector said, sharper now. "You were protecting yourself."

Sam hesitated. "I was scared. Of what it would mean. Of being dragged down in the mess. I thought—if one of us stayed clean, maybe we'd both survive."

"And yet, only one of us burned." Hector said, stepping forward now. His voice didn't rise, but it deepened. Solid. Anchored. "Only in moments like that is love truly tested."

He paused. Looked Sam in the eye.

"If you had stayed, I would've given everything—my career, my name, all of it—to protect you. But you didn't stay. You left me in ashes just to keep yourself clean of the dust."

Sam faltered. "I didn't know how to fix it. I still don't."

Benjamin hadn't spoken yet. He stood beside Hector, calm, steady. And Hector, for the first time, reached out. Not to hold onto something—but to show what he held onto now.

He took Benjamin's hand.

"There was someone else." Hector said, still to Sam. "Someone who didn't leave. Someone who was afraid of the distance between us but stayed close anyway. Who waited until I was ready and never forced his way in."

Benjamin said nothing. Just let his thumb trace a quiet circle over Hector's knuckles.

"He's here now. And I believe him—because he never made me feel small. He showed me, every day, that I was worth staying for."

Sam's voice broke. "Are you saying there's nothing left?"

"I'm saying what we had ended the moment you chose your image over me."

The silence between them stretched.

Then Benjamin finally spoke.

"You had your chance. Now you're just late to a story that's already being rewritten."

They left Sam behind in that hallway. And the moment they stepped outside into the evening light, Hector felt it— a stillness.

Not emptiness. But peace.

"I thought I'd feel triumphant." Hector murmured as they walked.

Benjamin glanced over. "And?"

"I just feel... finished."

"That's better." Benjamin said.

That night, the rooftop called again. But not for reckoning.

For rest.

They brought no wine. No tea. Just two folding chairs and a blanket.

Benjamin tilted his head to the stars. "You know, we never had a proper celebration."

"For what?"

"For making it through."

Hector gave a half-smile. "Survival doesn't always come with fireworks."

"No." Benjamin said, reaching for Hector's hand again. "But it deserves something."

They sat for hours.

Later, Benjamin pulled out his phone and opened a recording app.

"I want to record something." he said. "Just for us."

He pressed record.

Benjamin spoke first:

"If I could talk to the boy I used to be, I'd tell him this—Keep watching. Keep waiting. One day, you'll meet someone who carries his own ruins and still dares to stand tall. When you meet him, it'll be the best day of your life. And everything after that... it will be the sweetest part."

He handed the phone to Hector.

And Hector began to speak:

"If I could talk to the boy I was before the fall, I'd tell him this: It will hurt. You will break. And some people will leave, not because you failed them, but because they never intended to stay. But one day, someone will look at your ruins and see something worth rebuilding. Wait for them. And when they come, don't flinch."

He ended the recording.

Benjamin didn't speak.

He just leaned his head on Hector's shoulder.

The next morning, Hector woke to find an envelope by the door.

No name. No return address.

Inside, a single sheet of paper.

It was a fan letter.

Written in careful, shaking script:

'I never thought I'd live long enough to see someone like me survive. Thank you for not giving up.'

Hector read it three times.

Then he added it to the box.

Two days later, during a script meeting, the director pulled them aside again.

"There's a special episode being considered." He said. "Behind the scenes. A documentary about the making of the drama. We want to include all three of you."

Hector raised an eyebrow. "All three?"

"Sam included."

Benjamin looked at Hector. "We don't have to say yes."

Hector considered it. Then shook his head. "No. If he wants to be part of the story, let him. But this time, I get to tell mine."

Filming began the following week. Not of a drama, but of the truth.

Old clips. Rehearsal outtakes. Interview footage. And in the center of it—Hector.

The final scene of the special wasn't a reenactment. It was real.

A quiet shot of Hector and Benjamin walking through the now-empty set. Costumes off. Stage bare.

Just two people, side by side.

The camera followed as they stepped into the daylight.

And as the screen faded to black, Hector's voiceover echoed:

"Some kings fall. But others... they rise. Not with crowns. But with someone beside them, holding the line. And reminding them—you're still here."

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