Crossing into 1998
The new year of 1998 arrived. Due to the promotional tour for Titanic, Sion Lee had no choice but to ring in the New Year in Paris, France. He sat alone in his hotel room, sipping wine as he watched the brilliant fireworks explode over the Eiffel Tower.
Honestly, he was so busy that if he let his mind wander for even a second, he'd lose track of what he was doing. He was constantly on the move—appearing on various talk shows across different countries for interviews alongside Leo and Kate, doing magazine shoots, hosting fan signings, attending premieres, and even putting on shoes for some brand collaboration he'd barely heard of. But on the bright side, the money was rolling in.
The more I rake in, the better. Hehe.
He was already working on his second bottle of wine, feeling a pleasant buzz. Since it was New Year's, he had treated himself to a steak basted in rich butter, a far cry from his usual bland diet of salt and pepper. Ultimately, his running guarantee contract meant that the film's success directly translated to astronomical profits for him.
With a staggering $200 million budget, the studio had been plagued with anxiety right up to the release, constantly questioning if they would ever see a return on their investment. But Sion, armed with the memories of his past life, was absolutely certain. This is a guaranteed home run. He had poured his heart and soul into his performance, delivering a masterclass as the film's iconic villain.
As the global box office numbers leaped higher day by day, his earnings snowballed. By now, a few executives at the studio must have started sweating.
Wait, if it keeps going like this, how much do we actually owe Sion Lee?
Are you kidding me? Who could have predicted this would blow up so massive?
Sion fully intended to make an absolute killing alongside the director, who was also locked into a lucrative profit-sharing deal. Right then, the doorbell rang.
“Huh...?”
Wondering who it could be, he opened the door to find Leonardo DiCaprio standing there, holding a bottle of wine.
“Thought you might want some company to drink with.”
“Oh, absolutely. Come on in. Lonely souls in a foreign land should stick together, right?”
“Exactly! Hehe, I'm glad we speak the same language, Sion.”
The sun-like golden boy of Hollywood stepped inside. Sion, who casually held the door for him, was his perfect contrast—a cool, dark, decadently handsome man. Currently, the two most visually captivating men in the world sat side-by-side on the suite's plush sofa, slowly savoring their wine.
“It feels like a dream come true,” Leo murmured.
“This is just the beginning. You're going to be an even bigger star, Leo. You were the lead, and you were magnificent.”
Leo beamed at Sion's reassurance. Having established the man before him as his ultimate role model during the shoot, Leo offered a sheepish, grateful smile.
“Oh, come on. To be honest, filming this made me realize how much I still have to learn. I couldn't stay focused the whole time, and toward the end, my mind was just completely numb from the cold. I really think you carried both Kate and me through this, Sion.”
“Wow, high praise coming from the leading man himself. I'm honored.”
“Haha, it's the truth.”
“Still, a supporting actor is just a supporting actor.” Sion took a slow sip of his wine and gave a playful wink. “But when you become a true global superstar, I'm definitely going to brag in interviews. I'll tell everyone that Leo confessed to me multiple times on the set of Titanic that he learned everything from me.”
“Hey, I'll probably beat you to it and tell them myself.” Leonardo shot back with a bright, undefeated grin.
Though it had only been in theaters for a month, Titanic was rising at a pace far eclipsing what Sion remembered from his past life. It had already shattered the $300 million mark. Sensing that they were sitting on an unprecedented cultural phenomenon, Warner Bros. kept aggressively booking promotional events. This was a historic masterpiece destined to redefine the careers of its leads, Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, as well as its standout supporting star, Sion Lee. And the fruits of that success were already ripening.
“Did Kate head back to the States?”
“Yeah. She was nominated for a Golden Globe.”
“I hope she wins.”
In his past life, Hollywood had been strangely stingy when it came to awarding the cast of Titanic, but Sion hoped things would be different this time. I hope she at least takes home the Golden Globe...
He wondered how the Hollywood elite would react to this version of the film, which had grown into an even greater masterpiece than in his past life. Though, in a way, they might actually hate it more. After all, Sion wasn't exactly on speaking terms with the critics lately. Besides, awards were one of the few things entirely out of his control.
Well, whatever. I just have to keep doing my job. By now, as long as schedules didn't completely overlap, he felt fully confident in juggling multiple major projects.
“Leo.”
“Yeah, Sion?”
“Let's keep killing it.”
As an actor sharing the same era, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with legends he once only watched from afar filled Sion with a quiet wave of emotion. He raised his glass, and Leo clinked his against it with a bright grin.
The promotional tour for Titanic stretched into February. As was typical for massive blockbusters, it was a grueling European tour. Unlike California, which enjoyed mild weather year-round, Europe's dramatic shifts between freezing cold and sweltering heat were quite a novelty to him. Treating the tour like a semi-vacation, Sion found himself enjoying a rare moment of peace.
“Milan is freezing. It made me think of you.”
In a hotel lobby in Italy, Sion stood by a payphone, wearing dark sunglasses. A soft, gentle smile played on his lips, drawing the entranced gazes of every passing woman.
“Oh my god...”
“He's such a romantic.”
“Wait... isn't that... Sion Lee?”
“Oh, my god! It is!!”
Recognizing the star of Titanic, the women barely suppressed their squeals of excitement as they approached. Accustomed to such encounters, Sion didn't hang up. He simply turned around, offering autographs, warm hugs, and photos with practiced ease. On the other end of the line, the voice grew subtly, dangerously chilly.
"...What are you doing right now?"
“Uh, nothing?”
"I'm getting a very strange vibe."
“Don't worry. I'm behaving.”
A passionate Italian fan planted a wet kiss on his cheek, and Sion smoothly continued his fan service.
“I lo-love you, Sion! So much!”
“Here is my phone number!”
As he accepted the slip of paper scribbled with her number in broken English, a sharp voice pierced his ear.
"...Did you just take something from someone?"
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
“You know, if you were here with me, even this freezing Milan would feel warm.”
"Should I book a flight right now?"
“No, no! Eli, aren't you in the middle of filming?”
Hollywood's 'Broken Prince' deflected with a smooth, playful grin. Because of his hectic schedule, Sion hadn't been able to keep track of Elena's exact daily itinerary. However, he had heard from Charlie that she had landed a 'massive gig,' which he assumed was Flower's Falling. At this point in her career, Elena mostly starred in auteur, art-house films.
As was typical for such projects, Flower's Falling was a poignant drama about a dying florist. Having overcome countless hardships since childhood, she finally becomes the owner of a flower shop—a symbol of life itself—only to be diagnosed with a terminal stroke at a young age. It was a tragic masterpiece, and it would eventually win Elena her very first Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress.
She really is a genius. A total genius.
And yet, the moment he took his eyes off her, she'd get jealous and pout like a child... Super adorable. Sion smiled, fully embracing the fact that he genuinely adored her. After a brief, chilly silence, Elena spoke again.
"I finally put out the biggest fire. Post-production was absolutely brutal, though... I had to do ADR, and they made me wear these weird suits for CG tracking. I felt less like an actor and more like a model or a voice actress."
“Post-production? Weren't you working on Flower's Falling?” Why would that need CG? Are they digitally rendering the bouquets?
"H-how did you even know about that?"
Elena's voice faltered in surprise. She hadn't mentioned Flower's Falling or her other project to Sion. Then again, Sion hadn't really volunteered details about his current projects either.
“...Because I took a dive into Eli's lake-like eyes and saw it all.” Naturally, he couldn't tell her, 'I know because I'm a regressor.'
"A-anyway, no. Not that one. Something else."
It felt a bit awkward to pry now. While every actor was different, Elena Asimov was the type who took NDAs incredibly seriously—she wouldn't utter a word even to her own family. She hated the idea of casually leaking something only to be suspected later. Sion knew this both from past-life rumors and from her own mouth, so he usually didn't press her... Or so he thought.
“Tell me. What project is it?”
A sudden premonition that history was shifting prompted him to ask. Elena hesitated before answering.
"I-I'm only telling you this, okay? Promise?"
“Sure. So if I meet a reporter, I should just pretend to slip up and spill it, right?”
"...Sion?"
“Yes, yes. I won't tell a soul.”
Ever since they had signed their Bad Contract, Sion found himself tucking away his sly, foxy tail whenever Elena took that serious tone. As she grew more and more precious to him, he no longer wanted to deny his feelings or push them aside for the sake of his career. Because I've finally admitted it. The fact that she had become someone truly special to him. Even her voice, traveling across continents through the receiver, made him ache for her elegant presence.
But if I rush in too directly, I might ruin what we have. Good grief. There were still countless mosquitoes buzzing around them, waiting to suck them dry. Sion sighed, thinking of how exhausting the life of a Hollywood actor could be. And then, she dropped a bombshell.
"It's the new Star Wars series. You know it, right?"
“...Star...? Don't tell me you're Padmé?!”
Sion's jaw dropped in sheer shock. Elena, hearing his bewildered reaction, sounded even more startled.
"What...? H-how did you know that too?"
“Because you're the most beautiful and smartest girl in the universe!”
He was stunned that Elena had landed the role of Padmé Amidala—originally played by the brilliant Natalie Portman in his past life. But beyond that, knowing exactly what kind of film Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace was made his head spin. It was the film that heralded the dawn of the digital cinema era. The long-awaited sequel to Star Wars, the modern American myth, arriving after a sixteen-year hiatus. Expectations were astronomically high, and while it achieved massive box office success, it was also heavily criticized.
“What other role would you play? It's not like you're going to be the future Darth Vader!”
"T-this is all supposed to be strictly confidential. Just how much do you know?"
“You're going to kiss the guy who becomes Darth Vader?! No way!” Sion blurted out in a sudden fit of jealousy, before quickly catching himself. “...No, wait. It's just a movie.”
Right, it was just a film. They could use a body double. Or they could just use CG to superimpose Elena's face. As Sion mentally prepared himself to personally fund the CGI budget to avoid any real kissing, a sweet, teasing voice whispered through the receiver.
"Do you hate it? Me kissing another man?"
“Of course I hate it.”
"I wouldn't mind if you kissed another woman, though."
“...? Wait, what? Is that your kink?”
"Isn't a kiss even hotter when you're driven crazy by jealousy?"
Picturing Elena whispering words sweeter than honey, Sion shifted uncomfortably. His twenty-five-year-old body was highly responsive. Heh. Look at you, reacting so healthily to just a little teasing. As he felt a wave of inner pride, Elena dropped another cryptic hint.
"Not in this movie, but they said we'll have to do it in the next one."
“...I know. I know.”
"So why don't you come and do it? The kiss."
“What?”
"I'm hanging up."
With a voice as alluring as a white cat swaying its tail, Elena hung up. Sion stood frozen, holding the receiver to his ear, utterly dumbfounded. ...What on earth did she mean by that?
Just then, a hotel staff member approached and informed him that a Mr. Charlie Kang from CK Agency was on the line. Still dazed, Sion took the transferred call.
"Hey, Yi-siony. How's the European tour going?"
“...What is it?”
"Whoa, you sound grumpy. I'll get straight to the point. An audition offer suddenly came in for you. I know you usually avoid sudden big projects, but I wanted to tell you quickly. It's for the next Star Wars movie. They want you for... Anak-in? How do you read this... anyway, the main character."
“............”
Sion felt the invisible threads of fate wrapping around him and Elena. Or... did Elena or Olga drop a hint to the casting directors?
In his past life, Hayden Christensen had played the adult Anakin Skywalker. Though his performance was heavily criticized at the time, his genuine love for the franchise eventually won over the hearts of fans years later. And if history ran its course, Hayden would be the one kissing Elena on screen.
The boy inside him—no, the actor Sion Lee—refused to let that happen. He felt the self-imposed 'rules' he had established starting to bend. He had promised himself that if the timing or connection wasn't right, he wouldn't force his way into a blockbuster just for the sake of success.
"So, what should I tell them?"
The Star Wars franchise was more than just a series of films; it was a cornerstone of American mythology. As a natural-born American who loved cinema, Sion harbored a deep affection for it. He had always dreamed of meeting George Lucas one day and telling him, 'Unless you want to live forever on the curses of fans, don't say Han shot second,' before happily dying a gruesome death as a Jedi.
“I'll do it. The audition.”
"...Wait, really?"
“Yeah, I'll do it. I have to.”
But suddenly, those childhood dreams from his past life didn't seem to matter anymore. He wanted to kiss Elena. On screen. Incredibly, intensely sexy.
“I mean, there's no reason I can't audition, right? Huh?!”
And he knew that even if his reason was incredibly petty, she would just sigh and accept it. She was a perfect, straight-A girl who excelled at everything, yet she possessed a saintly grace that could embrace even his most twisted, selfish desires.
"W-well, if you say so..."
Sion completely cast aside the lingering guilt of using his past-life knowledge like a cheat code. At this moment, all the chains binding him shattered.
I'll finish you with a Force choke, Hayden.
And so, Sion Lee was already well on his way to becoming Darth Vader.