Tycoon Actor C468

Production for YouTube Rewind was finally about to begin.

Ryan Higa and several other experienced creators were already on set, casually bouncing ideas around with Kai, the director. Having been part of past Rewinds, they knew what worked—and what didn’t.

This year’s Rewind wasn’t going to be a polished, overproduced spectacle. It wouldn’t need a Hollywood-level production with over-the-top editing and cinematic flair. That was Lucas’s suggestion from the start, and Kai had fully embraced it.

The goal was simple: make it feel YouTube-made. Rough around the edges, fast-paced, and most importantly—creator-first.

Not only would it save time, but it would allow them to release it before the year ended—despite the delays in planning and the challenge of gathering so many big names.

Especially since Lucas himself had only recently become available after wrapping major projects.

But now, things were finally moving. And for once, the YouTubers felt like they were truly part of the process.

The brainstorming session was open and casual.

They pitched ideas—nothing over-the-top, just fun and relatable bits that reflected what made their channels special. Lucas was actively participating too, throwing in ideas that highlighted the creators rather than himself.

Some YouTubers had been skeptical at first. They assumed Lucas would dominate the Rewind, making it all about his star power.

But the reality was the opposite.

He listened, encouraged others to speak, and suggested concepts that spotlighted the creators around him.

‘This guy’s actually kind of cool… way cooler than I expected,’ Felix thought to himself as he listened. Earlier, he had pegged Lucas’s smiles as PR-polished, but after sitting through the planning sessions and hearing him speak honestly, Felix started to believe this was the real deal.

Meanwhile, quiet murmurs buzzed through the group—especially about the opening sequence. Most of the creators had assumed Lucas would just perform one of his hit songs. But then Kai casually revealed something that made everyone stop and listen:

“Lucas actually wrote a brand-new song—just for Rewind.”

That turned heads.

“He’s already recorded the track for playback,” Kai continued. “The studio speakers will cue it up for timing—but he wants to perform it live. No lip-syncing.”

The YouTubers exchanged wide-eyed glances. The energy shifted.

As anticipation built, the production team was putting the final props in place on the green-screen set. Studio lights warmed up. The floor crew moved with quiet urgency.

Kai clapped his hands together and called out, “Alright, we’re about to start rolling. Let’s get Ray in position.”

Ray—Lucas’s viral doppelgänger—was already on set. Seated behind a mahogany desk in a tailored suit, he looked every bit like a clean-cut CEO. The camera framed him from behind, just the back of his head and shoulders in view.

Watching from the monitor room, the YouTubers chuckled.

“He really does look like Lucas from behind,” said KSI (Olajide “JJ” Olatunji), squinting at the screen.

“Yeah,” someone else laughed. “If he could walk backward through the whole video, we’d be fooled the whole time.”

The room rippled with light laughter.

And with that, the stage was set.

Kai gave the signal to roll cameras.

The fans kicked on, dramatically blowing through Ray’s hair as he spun slowly in the office chair, facing away from the camera. Dressed in a suit, back straight, he began to hum.

“I used to rule the world…” Ray sang, a little off-key.

The speakers on set began to play the actual backing track of Viva La Vida. It was Lucas’s most iconic song—instantly recognizable.

But as the chair turned around and the camera zoomed in, the illusion broke.

It wasn’t Lucas Knight.

The music scratched to a halt, abruptly cutting into the meme soundbite: “Wait a minute… who are you?”

Ray, still trying to sing, cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uhm… I’m Lucas Knight.”

From behind, another figure suddenly entered the frame—Nicholas Fraser, known for his viral Vine meme. He sang with a smirk, “Why you always lyin’? Mmm oh my god… stop f*in’ lyin’!”

Ray blinked. “Wait—you're the Vine guy! What are you doing here?”

Fraser looked around the set and shrugged. “Just hangin’ out.” He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “So this is the YouTube Rewind? Man, this set is cheap. I was expecting at least… fireworks or something.”

Ray chuckled nervously. “Yeah, well… budget cuts, I guess.”

Just then, Keemstar—known from DramaAlert—stepped into frame, looking like he was ready to stir the pot. He leaned in, microphone already recording.

“Oooh! We’ve got drama! Ray versus Fraser—this is about to go down!”

But instead of fireworks, the two just stood there. Silent. Shrugging.

Keemstar waited.

Still nothing.

He blinked, then sighed. “Come on, guys. Give me something.”

The only response was the awkward chirp of crickets coming from the soundboard.

Just as Keemstar turned away, visibly disappointed, a soft piano melody began to echo across the studio.

Then came a rhythmic series of hand claps—slow at first, then gradually forming a steady beat.

Everyone froze.

As the piano chords built, joined by light percussion and subtle strings, an uplifting energy filled the room—like something playful was about to unfold. The camera panned slowly across the set... until it stopped on the silhouette of a figure.

The back of Lucas Knight.

Or… not just one.

Three figures stood with their backs to the camera—all with matching builds, matching outfits, and matching hair. The center one clearly stood taller, more grounded.

"My," the center figure began, his voice smooth.

"My," the second echoed.

"My," said the third.

Then, all three turned at once.

The two on either side were clearly imposters—cheap wigs, exaggerated expressions, borderline absurd. The real Lucas stood between them with casual poise.

Then he sang:

“My grandpa fought in World War II, He was such a noble dude…”

He paused a beat, letting the crowd feel the weight of the story before continuing with the next line.

As the melody carried on, the camera tracked Lucas as he stepped forward, passing by Ray, who still stood frozen on set.

Lucas threw a glance at him and sang:

"His dad was a fireman
Who fought fires so violent..."

Back in the control room, the YouTubers watching on the monitors gasped. The room buzzed. They hadn’t expected this.

But it was obvious now: the two fake Lucases had rehearsed this with him. One held a ukulele. The other strummed a quirky mini-violin. Their timing was on point—more like a musical comedy trio than an awkward gag.

Then came the chorus:

“Oh my god,” the two backup Lucases sang in harmony.

“That’s so insane,” Lucas sang back, nodding with faux solemnity.

“Oh my god,” they echoed again.

“That’s such a shame,” Lucas followed, his smile growing.

He continued:

“Next to them, my shit don’t feel so grand…
But I can’t help myself from feeling bad—
I kinda feel like two things can be sad…”

The backup duo raised their hands dramatically and chanted in unison:

“One, two, three, four—!”

The YouTubers watching from behind the monitors had gone completely silent.

Despite its bouncy rhythm, the song had weight. It was uplifting, sure—but the lyrics carried a haunting kind of melancholy. Lucas’s tone walked the line between joy and ache, and it resonated.

“The world's smallest violin really needs an audience…”

“So if I do not find somebody soon…”

The backup singers echoed:
“That’s right, that’s right”

Kai was momentarily taken aback, but he kept his composure, nodding to the crew as they continued rolling.

The camera had already pulled away from Lucas, who remained center stage, singing live. Instead, the lens turned toward various vignettes—each one a quiet, sobering look into the life of a creator.

Markiplier slumped on his bed, headphones still around his neck, the glow of his monitor flickering.

Felix sat before a webcam, holding up a sign that simply read: “Sorry.”

MrBeast counted grains of rice on a livestream, his eyes hollow with fatigue, his chat exploding with spam.

The song continued:

“I’ll blow up into smithereens
And spew my tiny symphony
Just let me play my violin for you, you, you, you…”

Back on set, Lucas and his two copies were now moving in rhythm. The backup Lucases stomped in sync while Lucas stepped forward, his voice controlled but full of fire.

As the tempo quickened, Lucas’s delivery sharpened.

“Now come in with the timpanis
And take a shot of Hennessy
I know I'm not there mentally
But you could be the remedy
So let me play my violin for you—”

And then—

Silence.

The final note hung in the air, like a breath caught in everyone’s throat.

Kai whispered: “Cut.”

But no one moved.

For a few seconds, the room remained suspended—everyone still processing the raw emotion and energy of the performance.

Then, one person began to clap.

Another followed.

And just like that, the entire room—production crew and YouTubers alike—broke into applause.

The three Lucases bowed in sync, smiles stretching across their faces. The two “copies” beamed with pride, but the real Lucas simply lowered his head with quiet confidence.

Jimmy stood from his monitor, where fake stream chats had been looping—set up by the YouTube team for the scene. He didn’t even glance at the screen now. His eyes were fixed on Lucas.

‘He’s on a whole different level…’ Jimmy thought, a flicker of awe in his chest. ‘I can’t believe I just casually walked into his dressing room like that earlier.’ The realization hit him harder now. What had felt brave in the moment now felt embarrassingly bold. Secondhand embarrassment washed over him—but also a deeper respect.

Kai approached Lucas, visibly impressed. “That was amazing,” he said. “And that’s just the first song, right?” He chuckled. “Man, I’m already looking forward to the last one.”

Lucas gave a soft smile. Despite the focus of the scene being on the YouTubers, and his own presence meant only to be background, the performance had—inevitably—stolen the spotlight.

A cluster of YouTubers gathered around him afterward.

“When’s that track dropping?” one asked, wide-eyed.

“Can we get an early copy?” another grinned, already imagining it in their vlogs.

Lucas simply replied to each question with an amused smile, neither confirming nor denying.

‘Sigh… this song belonged to a group that doesn’t even exist in this world,’ he thought. ‘But maybe that’s a good thing. If they’re not here to share it, I will.’

Later, Kai called for a retake of the opening to perfect the shots.

Lucas and his two copies repeated the song, tighter this time, even more synchronized. It somehow hit harder than the first.

By the third take, the room was practically vibrating with energy.

Then came the next sequence—and a second song, also from the same band in Lucas’s past life. He performed it flawlessly.

Once again, the energy in the room shifted.

“That’s another banger,” someone whispered.

Dan Middleton let out a whistle. “Seriously, Lucas is dropping hits like it's nothing. This year’s Rewind... it might actually be legendary.”

And everyone in the room silently agreed.


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World's Smallest Violin - AJR

AN: It’s my birthday today—happy birthday to me! I’m hoping things continue to get better on my end, and I sincerely wish all of you the best as well. Stay strong and take care!