Chapter Text
“Why are you here?” Sebastian asked, passing his hands through his unruly hair the way he always did when he faced the unexpected. “They told me you were a producer!”
“I am, in my way. Part of my job is checking up on you,” Fury replied. “Things going okay?”
“Ask your buddies over at the FBI, MI6, the SVR, and Interpol. Every time I turn around, I see them. They don’t think I notice. I bet they can tell you I moved for the tenth time and the color of the walls in my new apartment. As far as how I’m doing, this will sound as selfish as hell, I mean I lost friends too, but when I found out that guy disappeared, my life got a hell of a lot better. Then they reversed everything.. and he’s back. Someone even wants to make a movie of his life, starring me. What’s worse, my fans want the thing to happen. Then there’s the internet,” Sebastian said, toying with the food on his plate.
Fury chuckled to himself and made a big act of enjoying his meal, taking a sizable bite out of his sandwich. “You could do worse. I’ve studied your filmography and it’s a bit, shall we say, hit and miss.”
That stung, but Sebastian often bantered about his body of work himself. “Why are you here?”
“Despite some of your choices, you’re a decent actor. There’s a reason you have fans, and not just because of your pretty face. When you do the right project, you shine. I saw you on Broadway. We see the potential.”
Sebastian was beyond falling for flattery. “I’m not replacing my agent. What do you want…?”
“We wish to engage you. For an insignificant task, but it’ll be worth your while.”
“You can’t be serious…”
“It’s a tribute to the Avengers, but the press will be there. Dress like him, stand in the back and let someone take your picture. An hour of your time, max.”
“He has a metal arm.”
“We can replicate that.”
Sebastian sat back hard against the back of the Pullman seat, disregarding the hamburger and fries set in front of him. He wasn’t suffering; there was plenty of money in reserve to live comfortably, but the time between roles was becoming longer. He loved his job and he loathed to admit this to himself, but something was appealing about the proposal. If nothing else, it would be an artistic challenge. “How much are we talking?”
“Enough so you don’t need to work for a full year if you don’t want to. Take the jobs you choose, not the ones you’re forced to take. Be good for your career. Help you pull ahead if you appreciate what I mean.”
“Damn.” Sebastian wanted to stand up and pace up and down the aisles of the modest diner if not for the lunch crowd. Maybe later he could ramble across the parking lot and stew it out in his mind. “What does he think about it?” He had a tough time speaking his name out loud. He had this peculiar superstition that if he didn’t say it, the guy would remain a phantom in his life.
“That’s intriguing. You do give a damn. I understood you hated him,” Fury said as he swallowed a French fry.
“I don’t hate him, I don’t know him, and I don’t want to know him. You didn’t answer my question.”
“He’s fine with it if you are.”
“And what is he going to be doing while I’m impersonating him?”
“That’s classified. He needs to be somewhere else and we don’t want anyone to know where. You have a day to consider it. Meet me here tomorrow.” With those words, Fury finished his drink, threw the cash on the table and left the diner.
Sebastian sipped his coffee and stared out the window, but didn’t see the busy parking area or the highly trafficked road in the distance. His mind moved back to that first time they picked him up and forced him in a high-security cell. They kept him in a compact room and showed him the pictures. That face. His own eyes glaring back at him, but it wasn’t him. A person didn’t have to be an expert to realize something was off about that guy. Sure, now they were claiming he’d taken a direction for the better and helped save the world, but Sebastian was suspicious.
The server stopped by his table to clean away the remnants of his lunch. “I’m sorry, but there are some girls over at a booth on the other side of the room. I think they recognized you,” she whispered as she leaned over to collect the money.
He appreciated her warning because he didn’t want to be rude to anyone because Fury had upset his day. He wasn’t in the mood, but he glanced in their direction and they smiled at him. He put on his premier face and smiled back. They turned away, giggling. He knew the routine. Pictures of him, sitting here, were on the internet right now. Pictures of him with Fury no longer existed or were blurred-out. He didn’t know how they did what they did and never asked. He had a love hate relationship with his fans. Most of the time interacting with them was fun, but sometimes a quote taken out of context or an old blurred picture of him with someone they didn’t like surfaced they would ‘call him out' on him on social media and accuse him of things never considered doing. It shocked him at first, but now he ignored it. Other people handled his online accounts now, and besides, those so-called toxic fans were the minority. Most of the kids were cool.
He returned to his memories. His agent and a lawyer persuaded the authorities he was who he was, a semi-well-known actor, and it was impossible for him to be in Europe when they said he was, and they even took a DNA sample. He’d heard everyone had a doppelganger, but did he have to be that guy? Why was he even considering Fury’s offer?
Well, there was the cash. If Fury was telling the truth, it would be easy money. He never told him this, but despite the inconveniences, there was this undeniable fascination with the other guy and his life, but he always pushed those thoughts aside as being too weird. An idea formed in his head. There was the possibility that if he stepped into this guy’s world for half a minute, his misgivings might go away.
He decided. One hour, standing in a crowd, pretending to be the other guy and allowing someone to take his picture. What could go wrong?