Shane hails a cab that leads him to an address he found in one of his father’s notebooks. He looks up and sees, Top Job Studios. Upon entering, he sees a reception desk and asks where he can find the lady in the picture he presents to her.

”Ah yes, she is in the recital hall close to the audition area,” she says to Shane. He walks down and begins to hear a beautiful voice. He walks closer and sees a woman signing, and she matches the picture.

”Miss Evelyn?” He asks her, his southern drawl prominent.

Coming to the end of the section she was rehearsing, Evelyn glanced up as she saw movement at the door. The figure standing there was someone she didn't know, but still somehow seemed familiar.
​​​​As the song came to an end, she told the accompanist to take five, which he understood to mean, "beat it till I call you back." Once he was gone, the man spoke, and Evelyn gave a polite, if slightly sad, smile.

"Yes, I'm Evelyn Lockhart."

With all the horror, bloodshed, and uncertainty of the last few days, part of her thought to add, "are you here to kill me, too?"

“Oh god miss, no,” he quickly says as he raises his two palms to show he means no harm. “My old man recently passed and I wanted to follow in his, I reckon, not so legal footsteps.” 
 

He teared up for a second upon speaking of his deceased father. “Y’all might of known him as Dynamite. He wrote quite highly of you.”

Hearing him make the connection, Evie immediately put down the score she was holding and moved around the piano to the man standing there; and feeling tears begin to sting the corners of her own eyes, she reached out and hugged him tightly. It probably wasn't something people in this life do, but the guy just lost his father, and she'd lost a friend. Screw convention.

"I am so, so sorry. Your Dad was my first friend when I came to Los Angeles, and such a wonderful man."

She stepped back and swiped at the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"I'm so glad you came and found me. Jesus, how long have you been in town? We're going to make sure you're taken care of, just like your father did for everyone else. Come sit down. Tell me what I can do."

She gestured towards some risers with empty chairs where they could sit down.

The two went and found a seat.

”I’ve lived my whole life with mama back home in Texas at our ranch down in Abilene,” he said, “I’ve only spent time with my pop until I was a young toddler, but I knew he was always away for work. I know he didn’t do honest work but he managed to take of me and mama.”

Shane pulled his father’s brown notebook out of his pocket and flipped it open to the Family page.

”Miss Lockhart,” he said to Evie, “You were one of the names in this here book, along with a Mr.@BillyMastrosimone at the top of the list. Listen, I’ve worked on a ranch my whole life and I want to honor my papa and follow in his footsteps. I know I’ve only been on this earth for seventeen years, but I’m ready to do what he did, or at least try and fill his shoes.”

"Seventeen...." she barely whispered to herself. He seemed so young, yet in truth Evie was not even ten years older. She had only known Dynamite for a few months, but Evie would have been willing to bet he'd rather his son be sent right back to that ranch than live moment to moment in this life of uncertainty. But, she could see the conviction in his eyes; no matter how young, he was his own man, and his path had brought him here.

Evelyn nodded, taking a breath.

"Ok, let's start with your name; then we will go take a quick walk up the street so I can make a phone call. Billy will want to meet you as soon as possible, I think."

Shane's eyes lit up even more so than they were.

"My name's Shane Stetson, ma'am," he said to Evie. He knew his young age might be going against him, but he wanted to ensure that he showcased himself. He looked around and lowered his voice a bit.

"I ain't too good with a gun," he said, "but I can take a hit and get back up. There were too many times aplenty where a horse on our ranch got spooked by thunder and I might of gotten a kick or two in the gut. I also used to be one of the top bull-riding champions in my hometown and would make appearances at local businesses so I always knew what was happening in town. Sometimes I would catch some of the other boys tryin' to steal things from our local shop, but I wouldn't say nothing. So you could say I'm pretty observant."

He realized he might have been talking too much about himself and stopped.

"I apologize ma'am, I used to get in trouble in school for talking too much to the other kids but I enjoy being social," he concluded. 

Smiling a little, Evelyn gestured around the room.

"I've never touched a gun. Your Dad was handy with one, sure, but that's not the only way to make it here. That's what makes this organization different. Billy would rather have people doing what they're good at and investing in them rather than turning a grocer into a gangster. I'm a musician, and I've been learning a lot about the movie industry; the only thing I've done related to the 'business' end of things is pick a few locks for a few jobs. I learned that from my Dad. The rest of the time, I'm doing what I know."

Evie looked at the young man beside her. He was certainly a good age to get into acting if he was interested; had the looks, no problem. The bull-riding stuff pointed toward showmanship. 

"Ever done any acting, or singing?"

He took a second and thought about his experiences with acting.

"I once was in a school play actin' as Romeo in Romeo and Juliet," he said, voice softening up a little and a big smile on his face. "In fact, that was quite an enjoyable time. I got to act as someone else for during that time, Romeo, and I dated Betty for a bit who played as Juliet. Outside of that ma'am, I don't have any other times actin'. Though, speakin' of business, I did manage our farm's numbers and money for mama. She always said I had a knack for numbers."

At that, Evie lifted an eyebrow.

"Well, in that case, maybe I should have you talk to Billy sooner than later. That's his kind of thing. No matter what, you'll have a place here; you can be certain of that."

The pianist stuck his head back in, and Evelyn waved him off.

"We're done today, Rick. Can you please find Franco and tell him I'm going to be heading to Billy's in a few minutes? I'll meet him at the Exec building."

"Yup. Got it."

That done, Evelyn stood and made her way to the piano, gathering her folder of music and papers.

"Come on. Let's head over to the offices so I can make that call."

The two left the small rehearsal building and began up Hollywood Avenue, making the short walk to the Executive Building. Evelyn showed Shane the sights between, explaining everything she'd come to learn about the studio property.

They reached the office building and took a ride up the elevator to one of the top floors. Evelyn led the way to a door that was locked, but took a ring of keys and opened it, stepping aside to let Shane walk in first.

"This was your father's office. We haven't touched it- haven't wanted to, really. I thought you might like to see it. I'll let you have some time while I take care of some things. I'll just be next door if you need anything."

She gave him a gentle smile and stepped out of the room.

​​​​​

Shane was very impressed with the studio. He was in this new, large city and always heard about Los Angeles and the productions it made. Now, he found himself to his own thoughts in his father's office.

He looked around and could see many scenarios occurring in the large office. First, he saw a bunch of ceiling-to-floor windows, where he had imagined his father standing up and looking out in his own thought. Then, he saw a liquor cabinet with ornate glasses near a set of sofas and chairs where he had conjured up a meeting he would have with one of the big actors or actresses and enjoy a glass of bourbon, whiskey or vodka depending on who he was working with. Finally, in the far end of the naturally well-lit room, he saw a beautiful wooden oak desk, where his father must have did some of his work.

He approached the desk and sat down in the black leather chair. He began to tear up as he started to think that his father sat in that very seat a countless number of times. He looked across the room and felt a sense of power, something his father must have felt every day. He looked down and saw a drawer to the left and opened it. Inside, he found a bunch of files, all seeming to be different auditioners that have either been accepted or rejected. In another file, he saw a bunch of financial documents for the Studio. Once done searching in the drawer, Shane motioned to close it. As it was about to fully close, he heard a thud behind it, disallowing the drawer to shut. He reopened and closed it, and once again was cut short of fully closing.

Shane opened the drawer fully, got down on his knees and maneuvered his hand between the back of the drawer and the inside of the desk. Poking around, he could not feel anything then suddenly he felt something cold. It felt like metal, with smooth ridges around what felt like a small pipe. He clawed his hand onto it, slowly navigating his hands reverse-course back, this time with a haul. As his loaded hand began to see daylight, he looked and was holding a revolver. Despite not having much practice, he did learn the safety rules of guns on the farm, and knew to treat it as a loaded gun, to not put his finger on the trigger and to face it in a safe direction. He got up and put it on the desk, facing it away from the door. He looked toward the door.

"Miss Lockhart!" he yelled toward the door.

"Sure, I can do that. We're good here. Ok, see you later."

As Evelyn hung up the phone, Franco walked in with a lively look on his face.

"Early afternoon?"

Sitting back in the chair of the unused office, Evelyn shrugged a little."

"Yes and no? My rehearsal got cut short by a very interesting visitor, and now we're going to--"

Evie was interrupted by a voice from the office next door. The young man's voice sounded alarmed. Not panicked, but definitely not comfortable. She looked at Franco and got up quickly.

"Come on, I'll show you."

The two walked quickly out of one office and into the next; Franco's imposing yet always well-dressed frame ducking into the door behind Evelyn. They found Shane staring down at the desk, and drawing closer, saw the gun.

Evelyn's eyebrows raised a bit.

"I take it that's...not yours?"

"No," he responded, still looking down at the gun. 

Somehow just holding the gun made Shane realized the extent to which his father was involved in the mafia. As he held it, he looked at the size of the barrel and, upon looking closer, saw a small etching of a dynamite stick. He looked back up to Evelyn.

"I found this in the desk as I was going through paperwork," he said to her, placing it down on the desk. He didn't feel shocked to see the gun, he felt enlightened as he slowly started to uncover more of his father's life.

Now aware that nothing was "wrong," Evelyn and Franco both relaxed a little. Before she said anything in reply, she liked back at her bodyguard, who seemed almost amused at the sight before him. He caught Evie's glance and mouthed a "wow," presumably at the resemblance to the young man's father.

Evelyn had a feeling she knew at least a little of what Shane was trying to process. Now that her instructions had included "stay put," she decided it was a good time to try and offer some reassurance.

"You know, my dad was a locksmith. He had used a lot of tools in his trade, and in doing so, he helped a lot of people. Once, someone stole his acetylene torch and used it to break into an auto garage and steal a car."

Evelyn put her hand on the desk beside the gun and spoke with a soft voice. 

"They're all tools, what matters is who and how they are used. I know what you might be trying to work through right now, seeing that gun, but you need to know that your father was a very good man; and he used his tools defending and fighting for his family. A family he cared for deeply. And because of that, because of his honor, that family is going to take care of you, now. That's how this works Shane. It's not spilling blood for greed, if you don't make it that way. And Dynamite didn't."