Night with a Girl, Part 3
"Famous Teen Actors Caught on a Date!"
"Hollywood's Bad Boy Visits Los Angeles Children's Hospital?!"
"Image Making or Viral Marketing?"
"Midnight Run! A Secret Rendezvous in a Convertible?!"
"What on earth is this?"
A stack of newspapers thudded onto the desk. Linda Ackerman looked at the woman sitting across from her with a gentle smile. The woman, in her late forty's, had platinum blonde hair cut neatly just below her ears and sharp, leopard-like eyes. Anyone in Hollywood who didn't recognize her name would be considered a total outsider. She was Olga Asimov, the legendary Russian-born actress.
Dominating the 1970s, she had starred in numerous films, beloved by the public for her charismatic acting and an appearance that practically defined the term "cold beauty." Then, in her late twenties, she suddenly married a fellow Russian actor, had a child, and immediately returned to Hollywood, steadily building her filmography ever since.
Because she managed her career with surgical precision, industry insiders often whispered that her marriage was more of a strategic alliance. Indeed, with her and her husband at the center, most of their family was in the film business. Even their daughter, backed by a meticulously planned debut and rigorous training, was now thriving as a rising actress in Hollywood.
Linda Ackerman took a deliberate sip of her coffee to pause, then spoke in a soft, soothing voice.
"It seems the two young actors have grown quite close."
"I believe I warned you that I didn't want this happening," Olga replied.
"And I told you I would 'try my best.'"
Linda smiled and took another sip of her coffee. My throat is dry. Though she spoke casually without a hint of emotion, she couldn't help but feel tense. The woman sitting across from her was an A-list actress with deep connections throughout Hollywood, not to mention an executive board member of the Screen Actors Guild. If Longday Studios crossed her, securing talent in the future would become an absolute nightmare.
"I suspect it's merely a marketing stunt. Sion Lee isn't exactly the type to visit a children's hospital out of the goodness of his heart. He's likely using Miss Asimov to drum up interest and generate buzz."
"The mere fact that my daughter is associated with a delinquent like him is a massive embarrassment. Even though we buried the most problematic articles, the media is still in a frenzy."
"I understand. I will give him a stern warning to ensure this doesn't affect Miss Asimov's future career."
"This time, don't just try. Show me results."
"I'm afraid I can only say the same thing as before."
I'll try my best. Olga Asimov barely listened to the response. She stood up, turned, and swept out of the president's office.
Click.
The door closed, and Linda let out a long, held-in sigh. Unable to resist, she reached into the far corner of her desk drawer and pulled out a cigarette. The brand was Pall Mall. As she lit it, her anxiety seemed to burn away with the tobacco. Organizing the chaotic events in her mind, she dialed a number.
[Yes, ma'am.]
"...What do you plan to do about this?"
[Uh, excuse me?]
Rupert Hopper, the Executive VP, sounded thoroughly flustered by the sudden call.
"Sion Lee. Is he completely uncontrollable? We had a massive headache last time because of an unexpected article."
[I-I will try my best.]
"Don't just try, show me results! What that bastard is doing right now is..."
Unable to contain her irritation, Linda suddenly fell silent. If she kept speaking, she would have to admit that his antics were actually helping promote the movie. Her gaze locked onto the pile of newspapers on her desk. Sion Lee's actions always created massive waves, to the point where major and minor dailies alike scrambled to cover his every move.
In the past, the buzz came from his reputation as a literal Hollywood bad boy. Recently, however, the shock value stemmed from the sheer contrast between his public image and his actual behavior. Suddenly visiting a children's hospital with Elena Asimov was something absolutely no one could have predicted—yet it was a remarkably pleasant and intriguing piece of news.
"...Ha."
[Ma'am?]
"Now I get it. Jack Nicholson. Why that damn old man insisted on casting Sion..."
A sudden realization washed over Linda. She asked the man on the other end of the line, "What do you think?"
[I-I'm not sure what you mean.]
"The movie. Do you think we can still make it 'fail' as planned?"
Silence stretched over the line.
"Hopper. Silence is for the dead. Or the unemployed."
[...W-we can do it.]
"Really? How?"
[First, we can completely ruin the quality of the CGI. Then, we'll leak to the press that we had to cut the CGI budget because of the astronomical casting costs. If we do that... the movie will flop, and we'll be completely blameless, right?]
"What kind of nonsense is that? Do you honestly think audiences will care about CGI quality in a situation like this? They'll flock to the theaters just to see Sion Lee's face, especially with all this publicity. On top of that, the bastard is practically shooting a 'real-life' movie right now. Even though the Asimovs pulled strings to bury it, I heard those two went to a pub, held hands, and danced. The drunk patrons didn't even realize they were actors; they were just laughing and cheering along with them."
[...That's insane. And honestly, incredibly cool.]
"You realize you just said that out loud, right?"
[A-Ah, no! How could such a delinquent do that!]
"Let's pivot, Hopper."
It bruised her pride, but Linda Ackerman trusted her instincts and issued a new directive. From now on, they would maximize the quality of the film to ensure it achieved the greatest possible commercial success. They would perfect the CGI to make Hollywood professionals take notice of their studio. Since the probability of successfully tanking the film had plummeted, she was choosing Plan B.
After giving the order, Linda hung up and put a second cigarette to her lips.
"That clever bastard..."
She had thought he was just a wild colt running rampant without a care in the world, but she never dreamed he would act so calculatingly. Linda, who had intended to make the film fail and shift the blame to the opposing faction to drive them out, felt a wave of displeasure at how thoroughly her plans had been derailed. Yet, as the nicotine finally began to soothe her brain, another thought surfaced.
Did he really calculate all of this?
Or, conversely, did he drag himself to a children's hospital just because he wanted to get into Elena Asimov's pants? Given Sion's past track record, that scenario felt far more plausible. A teenage Hollywood superstar usually had nothing but sex and drugs on the brain. Even if he didn't start out that way... the industry naturally molded them into that over time.
But what if...
What if Sion Lee had calculated even that, playing the delinquent for the past few years? What if he had only pretended to be wild, deliberately dodging the traps of temptation while maintaining his massive media relevance?
Could such a brilliant monster actually exist?
Linda Ackerman was an iron woman who had spent decades in the industry, rising through the ranks of major production companies to become the head of a studio. Yet Sion Lee had pulled off something she couldn't touch—by turning the very weapons of the "media" and the "public" that had once tormented him back against them. He was a teenager, but still just a teenager. She was beginning to feel a creeping dread about what kind of actor he would become in the future.
"Yaaawn..."
Early in the morning, Sion was on his way to work. Driving his BMW convertible through the streets of Hollywood, his expression was the picture of serenity. It was a stark contrast to the chaos outside, where the world was reeling from his and Elena's scandal. But that didn't mean he felt absolutely nothing. As an actor, he was simply skilled at managing his emotions and keeping them hidden.
Yesterday's events played like a panorama in Sion's mind. Was it because his emotions as an actor were aligning with Elliot's? Or was it because he saw a reflection of himself in Elliot?
In the sense of regretting and recreating.
Sion viewed his date with Elena in a similar light. It felt as though he were reassembling the memory of the Elena he knew from his past life into a different form.
But if there's one difference from the movie, it's that this is actually happening in reality.
Because of Sion, the Elena of his past life and the Elena of this life were experiencing slightly different things. A sense of responsibility, a tiny sliver of guilt, and a strange thrill. These tangled emotions swirled deep within him.
Last night, after helping her escape her second-floor window, he had driven her back out into the city. Late into the night, Sion's car had pulled up to an old pub with only a handful of patrons and a bored-looking bartender.
"This is what a real date is like."
"C-Can we really go in? Are you sure...? Aren't we too young for a place like this?"
The legal drinking age in California was 21. To avoid any trouble, Sion had taken a convoluted route to shake off the paparazzi. When he slipped a hundred-dollar bill to the bartender and asked for a favor, the bartender, recognizing Sion, grinned and locked the doors of the quiet establishment.
Thanks to that, Elena had remarked, "You really are good at every bad thing, aren't you?"
When they sat down and Sion casually ordered a beer, Elena practically gasped.
"B-Beer? No way! Are you planning on drunk driving?! I don't have a license, so I can't drive you home!"
"...Are you really American? Did you never need a license because you're a rich girl with a personal chauffeur?"
"One beer is fine," he said, taking a sip. Then, he offered the glass to Elena, who was glaring at him like a Siberian Husky right before a bath.
"Want a sip?"
"N-No! I'm not legally allowed to drink...!"
"If I drink it all, I'll get drunk, and on the way home, I'll end up kissing a telephone pole instead of you."
"Neither is allowed."
Speaking coldly, she ultimately took the glass from Sion, took a small sip, and immediately coughed. He burst out laughing... and before they knew it, they were picking songs from the jukebox and dancing.
Elena, who had been watching Sion with an exasperated expression, let out a soft chuckle and stepped closer. Ballet to country music. It was an absurd combination, but she danced beautifully.
"You don't even know the basic steps? Didn't you dance in your second movie?"
"It seems you've watched my entire filmography."
"It's basic research! You're the actor I'm working with!"
"Wow, there's being diligent, and then there's this. You're amazing."
"Why don't you try being a little diligent for once?"
"Well, that is the one thing I lack. I used a double back then because I didn't want to learn. But if you were the one teaching me, maybe things would have been different."
"Fine. Let me teach you what classics are all about."
Elena naturally took Sion's hand, and the two danced for a long time. Under the dim, faded lights, the few remaining patrons in the pub were too drunk to recognize them. They simply whistled and chuckled, thinking it was just a couple of young kids having fun. A pool table and a jukebox. Sticky vinyl seats and a bar counter. Between them, they looked into each other's eyes, dancing to the crackling old pop music drifting over their quiet laughter. It was a scene straight out of an old drama.
After dancing for a long time, they returned to their seats, and Sion finally succeeded in getting Elena to eat "french fries smothered in whipped cream."
"How is it?"
"...People actually eat this?"
"That's because you've never had it from a place that does it right."
"It's too sweet and salty..."
Her skeptical reaction made him burst into laughter. Nothing much happened after that. They danced again when a good song came on. When Elena's face began to flush slightly from her tiny sips of beer, he led her out of the pub, put her back in the car, and took one last drive through downtown Hollywood. The night streets were showered in neon lights like stars. As he sped up, Elena closed her eyes and basked in the wind. After driving for a while, they shared a serious conversation.
"Tomorrow, articles about us running around like this will be everywhere, won't they? My mother is going to kill me."
"If you get grounded, let me know. I'll have to tell the director that filming is canceled."
"Haha, I have no intention of letting that happen. I'll just jump out of the second floor again, like today."
"I've taught you some bad habits."
"...I guess you have."
Taking a deep breath to release the heat in her chest, Elena smiled against the night wind.
"It's strange. Back during Deadly, I wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. Now I'm learning all sorts of weird things."
"So, do you have a better feel for how to play your character now?"
"Yes. Breaking myself down... it was a little thrilling. Just a tiny bit."
Watching her large eyes shine deeply, Sion suddenly recalled a scene from his past life. Elena Asimov was undeniably an actress of genius talent. Throughout Hollywood's long history, few actors were praised for having as much depth as she did. She was not only talented but incredibly diligent. She built her filmography steadily throughout her youth without a single scandal, and as soon as she hit her thirties, she won the Oscar for Best Actress.
During the time Sion was in rehab, her words from her peak acceptance speech were still vivid in his mind.
I was a massive pain in the ass during our last project, Elena. Think of this as my repayment.
At least for this movie, he felt he had fulfilled her wish.
I'm looking forward to today's shoot.
The final stages of filming at the Hollywood indoor studio. The set was Elliot and Noah's house. And the scene where the conflict reaches its absolute peak.
"How...! How could you say that to me?!"
Elena's performance made the entire crew feel as though they were being sucked into a black hole. In the latter half of the story, Elliot tells Noah the whole truth. That this world is a lie, and so is she. Just as Elliot had "trained" her to, Noah began to show her emotions. Noah was not the perfect woman Elliot had idealized. She was unstable, but completed by their mutual existence. Because that was what it meant to be human.
Noah gasped for breath in her state of utter confusion. Elliot approached her as she hyperventilated, his face a mask of complex emotions. This was Noah. This was his Noah. But the sorrow of having to end it, despite loving her so deeply, weighed heavily on Elliot's heart. And Sion's acting captured that intricate web of emotions perfectly.
The acting is insane.
The script is good, but their acting brings it to life.
What on earth happened between those two?
Even Kate, the director, and everyone else on set couldn't help but wonder. Until recently, the two stunning leads had looked as perfect as a fairy-tale couple from the Land of Oz. But now, they had descended into the muddy depths of reality, exposing their raw, stained emotions to one another. As their lines locked together, an indescribably intense gaze passed between them. They threw their arms around each other in a desperate embrace. As if trying to hold onto sand slipping through their fingers, they repeatedly stroked and gripped each other's backs.
Watching the scene, Kate unconsciously clenched her fists. The raw, powerful yearning they felt for each other—both mentally and physically—was palpable.
I can't possibly ask what happened yesterday... but I think I know.
It was obvious. And it had happened at least three times.
It's common among young actors. Though it's amazing how those two, who used to act like sworn enemies, ended up like this.
Who seduced whom first? Sion, surely? Or was it surprisingly Elena? A satisfied smile spread across Kate's lips as she indulged in her scandalous misunderstanding.