„Mediocre. “

„Sounds like a compliment if it comes from you.”

The rain poured down and cleansed the streets from filth. Shining lights illuminated the theatre’s façade and displayed all its splendour.

“You should have continued your career as a physicist. You already got your bachelor,” stated the brown bearded man while not paying attention to his interlocutor. The middle-aged grizzly bear was carefully observing his surrounding, glancing with his eyes at every moving object or person as if something terrible could happen at every moment.

“If money were all I wanted, I would agree. But I don’t. Neither do I need fame. All I want is an entertaining life that lasts until my final breath." Thibaut knew exactly what he desired.

Brussel’s springs are on average mild, but that year, in particular, had been a rainy mess. Still no government in sight. Which country needs a government anyway; aren’t they too overrated?” Thibaut smiled depreciatively. Lightning expanded like roots in the sky who roared like a group of tens lions singing in a canon.

“You shouldn’t waste your talents,” said the blockhead and successful chess coach, not appreciating the beauty of acting.

Those insufferable beings who can’t comprehend the glory of interpreting reality, they should embrace themselves, for retribution is nigh.

Thibaut was grinning and a certain kind of madness glimmered in his eyes, slowly infecting the air around him and causing the blockhead to step back. Unlike the grizzly bear, he had no umbrella and was soaked wet.

“What. What are you doing?” asked the man whose hands were shaking. So, at last, he finally paid attention to the conversation.

“Life is the real stage; my plays are never fake.” Several claps of thunder resounding in the background agreed with his speech and stressed the importance of what was said.

“Your plays? I thought you considered yourself as an actor, not a director.” The coach might have sounded surprised, but his posture did certainly not appear to.

“Oh. I do consider myself as an actor but more so as an enabler, a maker.”

The blockhead was scratching his head. He seemed to have lost the thread in the discussion at some point. However, barbarians and the like don’t understand the intricacies of civilized discourse. They don’t.

“I’ll never understand how you think.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll show you the fireworks though.”

“Fireworks?” The blockhead retreated and his face was marked by many deep frowns.

It thundered, however, unlike normally, not from the sky. Smiling Thibaut lit his cigarette and took a puff while humming the catchy last part from the Avengers’ theme. With a crescendo, several fire tongues lunged out of the windows of the theatre, announcing the cruelty of the wicked world humans were condemned to live in. A little cliché, isn’t it. Fire had always been a dear companion of war and one cannot exist without the other, at least for humans. Oh, it burned magnifically; the stage was superb as were the actors. Shouts of panic could be heard from the burning building. Fierce, human emotions. Everything burned.

“Did you think of the consequences?” The chess coach was surprisingly calm. Shouldn’t he panic or at least exclaim something, a little yip?

“Why don’t you condemn me? Shouldn’t this be your first action?”

“So, you admit being the culprit. Well, it has already been clear at this point.” He reached out with a hand. “A cigarette, please.”

Thibaut didn’t refuse the man who appeared to become more and more interesting as their conversation continued.

“Thanks.” The coach lit the cigarette which emitted a whiff, completely incomparable to the plume of smoke the burning building ejected.

“Will you try to confront or arrest me?”

“I should. But you’ll probably have some contingency measures in place. You are mad, but not dumb.” The man looked in the sky and examined the rain. Sadly, it wouldn’t be enough to beat the fire.

In less than five minutes, the fire brigade appeared. The cacophony of cries still overwhelmed all attempts of the sirens to assure their dominance. What did the average Joe like to see and hear in the television, sirens or the shouts of anguish, pain and misery? The former held more associations, but the latter carried more emotional weight. A tough choice. Life as a director is hard, after all. Endeavouring to create the finest art is always accompanied by throwbacks. Thibaut truly knew this. His first play sucked. Not enough stakes.