Prince's Alterego

Chapter 5: Behind the Mask

Prince had never felt more like Jason Steele than he did now. After the triumph at the film graduation ceremony, where he had skillfully handled Damian Blackwell's playful rivalry and charmed the Hollywood elite, everything seemed to be falling into place. The world believed he was Jason. Even Sophia, who knew the truth, was captivated by his ability to embody the role so completely.

But behind the confident facade, Prince was still plagued by the unknown. How long could he keep up this act? It had been over a year now, and there wasn't a single whisper about Jason Steele's real family. No one had come forward to claim him, no long-lost relatives appeared to shatter the illusion.

It was both a relief and a growing worry.

Prince spent the next few weeks focusing on the film, pushing the questions to the back of his mind. He threw himself into his work, using the production schedule as an escape. Each day on set felt like a continuation of his grand masquerade, and the deeper he went into the role, the harder it became to separate himself from Jason Steele.

Sitting in his trailer one afternoon, Prince allowed himself a moment of relaxation. The filming had been going smoothly, the scenes coming together beautifully. The crew was happy, the director pleased, and the media were eating up every bit of it.

But something still felt off.

Sophia had kept her promise to look into Jason Steele's family, though even her research had turned up nothing. It was like Jason had never existed outside of Hollywood. No history. No roots. No one to claim his body when he died.

As Prince sipped his coffee, he wondered if this was how Jason had lived before his death—charming the world with his effortless charisma while hiding a much darker, more mysterious past. What was he hiding?

A knock at the trailer door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Jason? Ready for the next scene?" It was the assistant director, poking his head in with a smile.

"Yeah, just give me a minute," Prince replied, shaking off the lingering thoughts and getting up.

The scene they were shooting that day was intense—a dramatic moment between Jason's character and Eliza's. The chemistry between them was electric, as it had always been, but Prince could feel an odd tension in the air. Eliza had been different since that night when she tried to kiss him again, and though they hadn't spoken about it, he could tell she was still processing it. She was sharp, perceptive, and had been in the industry long enough to notice when something was off. Could she still be suspicious?

The cameras rolled, and the scene played out. Eliza, in character, stormed into the room, her eyes blazing with emotion. "You can't just disappear like that! You promised me—us—something. What's going on?"

Prince, fully embodying Jacob reed, responded with cool detachment, "I told you, things have changed. I've changed. You're the one who needs to let go."

The line hit a little too close to home, and for a brief moment, Prince felt a strange flicker of guilt. The words weren't just for the script. They were for Eliza.

When the scene ended, Eliza looked at him, her gaze lingering longer than usual. Prince could see something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe even suspicion—but she said nothing. Just a smile, professional and distant.

As they wrapped for the day, Eliza left the set without a word, but the weight of her stare stayed with him.

That night, Prince lay in bed beside Sophia, unable to sleep. The silence of the mansion was suffocating. He stared at the ceiling, the shadows dancing as the moonlight filtered through the curtains. His mind raced with thoughts he couldn't push away.