Tycoon Actor C489

Marshmello's popularity had exploded in 2018.

His collab with Lucid, “Heaven,” and the global hit “Make It Right” with BTS had catapulted him even higher. Tracks like “Silence,” “Friends,” and “Wolves” kept him firmly at the top of the charts.

Labels were throwing contracts at him, but Christopher—Marshmello—remained firm in his independence. A solo DJ by choice, and by principle.

What most didn’t know, however, was that the man behind the helmet was close friends with the most famous actor on Earth—Lucas Knight.

Currently, Christopher was lounging at a luxury resort in Boston, prepping for his upcoming concert. His manager, Moe, was next to him on a lounge chair, sipping beer.

“I don’t think Lucas will make it,” Moe said, stretching. “The guy’s swamped. The assassination attempt, the Twitter thing… he’s juggling way too much.”

Christopher let out a sigh, eyes on his phone. “You’re probably right. And yeah—trying to buy Twitter? That’s madness.”

“Ten billion dollars,” Moe muttered, half-dazed. “That’s generational wealth. I can’t even picture that kind of money.”

Just then, Christopher’s phone buzzed. He glanced down—and smirked.

“Speak of the devil,” he said. “Lucas is calling.”

Moe straightened slightly. “Lucas? As in Lucas Lucas?”

Christopher nodded. “The devil himself.”

“Answer it,” Moe urged, trying to keep his voice cool despite the clear interest in his eyes.

Chris tapped the screen. The video call connected—and Lucas Knight’s face appeared, cool as ever.

“Hey, Mr. Billionaire,” Chris grinned. “What do you think of my offer?”

Lucas raised a brow. “You want me to prank your fans? Wear the Marshmello helmet and pretend to do a face reveal?”

“That’s the idea,” Christopher nodded.

Moe inched closer, curious, trying not to look too eager.

Lucas leaned back slightly, his tone playful but firm. “I love the idea, honestly… but I’m gonna have to pass this time.”

Both Christopher and Moe visibly slumped.

Chris sighed. “Fair enough.”

But before the disappointment could settle in, Lucas added with a smirk, “That said… I do like the concept. Maybe not your concert, but I’m open to doing it elsewhere.”

Christopher perked up. “You serious?”

“Yeah,” Lucas nodded. “I heard you're performing at the iHeartRadio Music Awards next week, right? My schedule clears up by then. I could show up there.”

Moe’s eyes widened. He couldn’t hold it in. “That’d be incredible!”

Lucas chuckled, catching Moe’s sudden burst of excitement. “You must be Moe.”

Moe blinked, then gave a half-nod, half-bow. “Big fan, man.”

Chris just laughed, shaking his head. “Looks like this prank’s gonna be a lot more fun than I thought.”

---

Lucas wasn’t lying when he said he was busy — between the Netflix documentary episodes and the high-stakes Twitter acquisition, his schedule was packed solid.

The $10 billion offer to buy Twitter had become a global headline, sparking endless debate across financial channels, social media, and business forums. For days, Lucas's unsolicited offer triggered a tug-of-war behind closed doors.

Miles stuck to Lucas’s original bluff strategy, but negotiations were tougher than expected. After multiple rounds of talks, the Twitter board held firm, countering with a demand of $13 to $15 billion.

Five days in, Miles called Lucas again with the latest update.

Lucas, calm as ever, said, “Then start backing out of the deal. Cite concerns about the number of fake accounts and data transparency.” He added flatly, “And leak that to the press.”

Miles hesitated, then nodded. “Understood.”

Later that day, outside Twitter HQ, Miles faced a crowd of reporters. He delivered his message like a seasoned PR tactician.

“Mr. Knight believes $15 billion is too risky at this stage,” he said. “There are growing concerns about fake user accounts, internal data integrity, and long-term profitability.”

A buzz of murmurs rippled through the press corps.

One reporter asked, “Is Lucas Knight officially pulling out of the deal?”

Miles replied, “He’s reevaluating the acquisition. As it stands, the numbers don’t justify the price.”

The news spread like wildfire.

Back in the Twitter boardroom, the directors had mixed reactions:

“Damn it, we overplayed our hand,” one muttered, staring at the news coverage on his phone.

Another director shook his head, “He’s bluffing. This is a negotiating tactic — classic power play. Don’t panic.”

“But what if it’s not?” a third asked, voice tense. “He’s got other platforms. He doesn’t need Twitter.”

“We might’ve just lost our best exit plan,” someone else mumbled under their breath.

The room fell into tense silence as they watched public sentiment tilt once again in Lucas Knight’s favor.

Just then, one of the directors spoke up, frustration in his tone. “Maybe we should reconsider the offer—negotiate it down this time. We can’t afford to lose our best exit strategy.”

Another director nodded grimly. “Especially after that damn Cambridge Analytica mess. Let’s be honest—Twitter’s long-term future is murky at best.”

Someone hesitantly suggested, “What about approaching Zuckerberg?”

“Don’t even mention that guy,” another snapped, scoffing. “Zuckerberg lowballs harder than Wall Street wolves. He’ll dangle a pathetic offer and expect us to bite.”

There were quiet murmurs of agreement. The board had already rejected his backdoor attempt to buy in through the co-founder—none of them had any intention of going back to him.

Then a voice from the end of the table cut through the chatter. “What if we adopt a poison pill?”

Silence fell.

A senior director narrowed his eyes. “You serious? You want to go that route?”

The one who suggested it leaned forward. “It’s drastic, yes. But it’s a defensive tactic. If Lucas keeps pushing, the poison pill could dilute his shares by offering existing shareholders the right to purchase more stock at a discount. It makes hostile takeovers painfully expensive.”

Another board member frowned. “But he already owns 18% of Twitter. If we trigger that clause, it might not do much—he’s already got a strong foundation. We’d just be hurting ourselves.”

“And if we go nuclear, the media will eat us alive,” another added. “He’s not some Wall Street suit. He’s Lucas Knight. People love him. We'll look like villains trying to shut out a philanthropist and innovator.”

The room was tense now—divided between strategy and risk.

“We either negotiate smart or we burn this place down trying to block him. I say we stop underestimating the kid and deal before he walks.”

---

At The Forum in Inglewood, California, the 2018 iHeartRadio Music Awards were just hours from kicking off. The atmosphere was electric—buzzing with fans, press, and celebrities flooding the venue. Stars like Taylor Swift, Cardi B, Shawn Mendes, Camila Cabello, Maroon 5, DJ Khaled, Eminem, and BTS were all slated to attend.

But among the crowd, someone had entered unnoticed.

In the hotel lobby across the street, Lucas Knight, disguised in a fitted black wig and casual clothes, slipped in without fanfare.

Only one person spotted him instantly.

“Luke!” Christopher, aka Marshmello, called out with a grin.

Moe, his manager, turned and did a double take. “Wait... That’s Lucas?”

Christopher smirked. “Yeah, he’s in full disguise. Told you he was a pro.”

Lucas walked over, chuckling as he adjusted the jacket draped over his shoulder. Jack, his ever-present bodyguard, stood a few feet away, wearing a cap and mask.

“I knew you’d recognize me,” Lucas said with a playful glance.

Christopher smirked and gave him a once-over. “Not bad, though. You actually pulled off the ‘anonymous dude from downtown’ look pretty well.”

Moe still stared in disbelief. “Man… I never imagined you’d be this good at disguises.”

“Nice to meet you, Moe,” Lucas greeted warmly.

“Ye-yeah, nice to meet you too,” Moe stammered, still trying to process the moment.

Christopher patted Moe on the back with a grin. “Appreciate you going along with this prank of mine.”

Lucas grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m actually kind of excited for it. It feels like prepping for a new role.” He leaned back, relaxed. “Plus, I’m doing it to help this crazy friend of mine have his fun while laughing from the audience.”

Christopher laughed. “You reading my mind or what?”

Their conversation flowed with easy camaraderie as they reviewed the plan. Later, they headed up to the rented suite, where Christopher began walking Lucas through the signature moves and gestures of Marshmello.

Lucas absorbed it all without issue. Acting like Marshmello? Just another role — and Lucas Knight never missed a beat.

---

Later, on the red carpet, Lucas donned the full Marshmello get-up—helmet, outfit, and even the signature bouncy walk. From the outside, he was indistinguishable from the real DJ.

A few reporters called out to him, trying to spark a quick interview, but Lucas simply gave vague hand gestures and kept walking, playing up the mystery.

In the fans’ section, Christopher was practically doubled over laughing.

Moe shook his head, amused. “You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“You can’t blame me,” Christopher replied between chuckles. “He’s really going all in.”

Moe then remembered something. “Wait, wasn’t Lucas supposed to be nominated tonight? But the media said he wasn’t attending because of the assassination attempt, right?”

“Exactly,” Christopher smirked. “He’s supposed to win for ‘World’s Smallest Violin’ — but everyone thinks he’s skipping. They even sent his former agent to accept the award.”

“You mean that chubby guy, Vincent?”

“Yeah. I wonder if he even knows Lucas is here.”

They watched as “Marshmello” continued posing for photos, then made his way backstage.

---

The award show kicked off with a stunning opening performance by Camila Cabello, followed by Shawn Mendes and Khalid performing “Youth.” DJ Khaled hosted the night, bringing his usual loud energy to the stage.

Other artists who took home awards included:

Taylor Swift – Best Female Artist

Imagine Dragons – Best Group

Cardi B – Best New Hip-Hop Artist

BTS – Best Fan Army

Maroon 5 – Best Collaboration (“What Lovers Do”)

Then came the moment for the “Alternative Rock Song of the Year” — won by Lucas Knight for his viral hit, “World’s Smallest Violin.” Since Lucas was “absent,” his former agent Vincent waddled up to the stage, clearly surprised but honored, waving awkwardly at the crowd.

“I know Lucas would’ve wanted to be here tonight, but due to… obvious circumstances, he couldn’t make it. So… thanks on his behalf!” Vincent said before exiting the stage.

Backstage, still in the Marshmello helmet, Lucas watched the whole thing and let out a soft laugh under the mask. He shook his head and whispered, “Oh, Vincent… you have no idea.”

Later, when it was time to announce the "Dance Artist of the Year," the energy inside The Forum surged as the crowd leaned in with anticipation.

The host, beaming with enthusiasm, hyped up the moment:

"Alright, people! You know the name, you’ve heard the tracks, and you’ve danced to the beats! The iHeartRadio Award goes to… give it up for the one and only… Marshmello!"

The arena roared with cheers and applause.

Lucas, still in full Marshmello disguise, stepped onto the stage, lights flaring, hands up in the air like the real DJ. Cameras flashed, the music played. And just like that — Lucas Knight was about to pull off one of the wildest pranks of his life.

The host handed Marshmello the trophy with a bright smile. But instead of just nodding, Marshmello reached out and gently took the mic from the host’s hand, like borrowing it for a moment.

“I just want to say…” the voice came out, smooth and confident. “I’m truly grateful for this award.”

The arena gasped.

The hosts exchanged stunned looks—this was the first time Marshmello had spoken on stage. A voice reveal? No one had expected it.

Then came the real shocker.

“And for that reason,” Marshmello continued, casually, “I think it’s finally time to take this helmet off. It’s getting a little hot in here.”

Another wave of gasps. A ripple of whispers surged through the crowd like an electric current.

The male host stammered, “W-wait, are you serious?”

Marshmello nodded slowly.

The entire arena fell into an eerie hush, as if holding its breath.

From the crowd, BTS members leaned forward, wide-eyed—having worked with Marshmello before, even they looked anxious with curiosity.

Then, with deliberate calm, Marshmello raised his hands… and began to lift the iconic helmet.

The moment the helmet came off, there was a split second of stunned silence—no one quite believed what they were seeing.

Then came the explosion.

"IT’S LUCAS!!!”

Screams. Shouts. Phones lifted in the air. The arena shook from the collective roar of thousands of voices reacting at once.

Even Christopher, who had orchestrated the prank, stood frozen. He hadn’t expected the reveal to hit this hard. “Holy shit…” he muttered under his breath.

Vincent, holding the award Lucas was supposed to receive earlier, just stared. His mouth hung open. “What the fuck…” he said, dumbfounded.

---

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