Whether a movie is good or not isn't up to critics or the media—it's decided by the audience, with their ticket purchases and word of mouth. Through previous collaborations, he had already developed a very positive impression of Laila. And after working with her twice, he found himself looking forward to more. It seemed that being on her sets always brought out the best in his acting, giving him a sense of ease and freedom—as if he were a fish in water.
Was it because he had a great partner like Roy? Or did she have some kind of special method? Or maybe it was both?
He didn't know the real reason, but what he did know was this: filming with her made him genuinely happy.
If Laila knew how highly her "big brother" thought of her, she'd probably be too happy to sleep.
Though truth be told, she hadn't been sleeping very well lately anyway. The reason? Her wedding to Roy was just over a week away. And yet, aside from Roy getting busier and busier, he hadn't told her a single thing about the wedding details.
Even someone like Laila, who usually had her entire brain focused on movies, couldn't help but lose her composure with just days left before her wedding. Where would the ceremony be held? Who would be attending?
She couldn't get any clues from Roy himself, but she had sensed some suspicious whispers and secretive glances among certain people at the company. It made her suspect that some of them might be involved in Roy's plans. Still, she hadn't cornered anyone to ask directly. As anxious as she was, she decided to respect Roy's efforts and keep waiting.
But today was different.
There was something that absolutely had to be resolved.
So, when Roy came home that evening, what greeted him was a serious-looking Laila and little Eli, both staring at him with identical, striking ice-blue eyes—bright and unblinking—as he stepped through the door.
"What's going on? Why are you both looking at me like that?" he asked, scooping up little Eli as the boy toddled over to him.
Before Laila could speak, Eli beat her to it. Once safe in his father's arms, he started pointing at his mom and launched into a dramatic explanation in a mix of Eastern dialect and English.
A very long explanation.
It was probably the first time Laila had ever heard him string together that many words since he started speaking.
Being deeply connected to her Eastern heritage, Laila had insisted on teaching him her native language. Roy and Grandpa had taken charge of his English. Children absorb things quickly, and Eli, in particular, had a unique habit of blending both languages when speaking longer sentences, often producing hilarious results.
Not that he realized it. Most of the time, he didn't understand why his parents would double over laughing at what he said.
Roy listened closely, trying to decipher what had just happened. Given how much their son was talking, something major must've gone down.
Unfortunately, all Roy could make out were fragments—something about "being in charge," "captain," and "mom." Beyond that, the boy's passionate little rant was lost on him.
"So, what exactly happened?" he turned to Laila for help.
With her arms crossed and a mildly exasperated expression, Laila jerked her chin toward Eli. "That little guy's tattling on me."
Then she proceeded to explain what had happened earlier that morning.
When Roy finished listening, he burst out laughing and planted a loud kiss on Eli's forehead. "Our Eli is so smart. He's even learned how to tattle!"
"Smart?" Laila's eyes went wide. Was this man trying to start a rebellion?
Roy walked over with a grin and kissed her on the forehead, too. "With such a smart mother, how could our son not be smart?"
Laila sighed inwardly. This man was getting too good at sweet talk. Especially when those seductive lips of his delivered the words—it made her heart flutter uncontrollably. Even after being together this long, her heart still raced whenever she saw him. At this point, she was almost despairing over how hopelessly superficial she was.
Roy set Eli down on the couch so they were eye-level. "Listen up, my little man. In this house, your mother is the most important person. Understand?"
Eli clutched at his sleeve, stubbornly holding his ground. "But, Daddy—!"
Roy pinched his cheek affectionately. "Daddy and Eli are both men. And men are supposed to protect and care for women. That's why Mommy is the most important person in this house."
Eli glanced at Laila, then reluctantly furrowed his brows and muttered, "Mommy."
Seeing that pouty, unwilling little face almost made Laila laugh out loud. But she understood—it wasn't really his fault. Roy had spent more time with him lately, especially after they wrapped filming for Silence. Roy had even turned down multiple incoming scripts to focus entirely on Eli and preparing for the wedding.
Meanwhile, she—the mother—was either buried in work at the company or off on some business trip. The truth was, she really hadn't spent much time with her son.
That realization instantly washed away all her frustration, replacing it with guilt. She scooped up the little guy into her arms.
"It's Mommy's fault. I'll make sure to spend more time with you from now on."
Eli wrinkled his nose the moment she hugged him, his face scrunching up like a little orange. He shot his dad a desperate "help me" look. What just happened? Why was he suddenly being hugged?!
Roy was already used to Laila's whimsical thought spirals. Just moments ago, she'd been talking about who was in charge, and now she'd veered into promising to spend more time with their son. Who knew where her brain wandered off to?
As for Eli's silent plea for rescue, Roy simply smiled and stayed put. In the face-off between wife and son, of course, he'd side with his wife. Besides, he wanted some hugs too, okay?
Eli "endured" his mother's embrace, his little face still scrunched up. It wasn't that he didn't like his mom—on the contrary, he adored her. But the little guy had a bit of a prideful streak. While he loved being hugged, he also felt like it clashed with his image as a "little man."
In the stories his dad told him, princes rode horses and fought dragons with swords—they didn't get squished in their mom's arms and showered with kisses.
"I'm not a baby anymore!" he would've declared proudly, if only he could speak that smoothly. But for now, he could only spit out his words one syllable at a time, leaving no room for protest.
Once Laila had finished expressing her motherly love, Roy came over and gently took Eli back into his arms.
"That's right. Our little Eli is a real little man now. So, my dear little man—ready to go wash up for dinner with Daddy?"
"Yes!" Eli replied, giving his dad's shoulder a firm pat, his little face full of solemn determination, like he was heading off to battle.
Laila: Weren't we talking about who's in charge in this house? How did it suddenly turn into "who's the most important"? If I don't get an answer, I'm not eating dinner!
Roy: My dear, of course you're in charge. Look, it's your favorite dish. Eat more, okay?
Laila: Fine. But don't you dare put bell peppers on my plate!
Roy: Eli doesn't pick out his veggies. If he sees you doing it, it's not a good look. How about you sneak them out when he's not looking?
Laila: Ugh, fine. I'll eat them. By the way, I'm staying up late tonight. I've got some documents to go over.
Roy: If Eli doesn't see you at bedtime, he won't sleep well. You know, kids need their moms.
Laila: …Fine, I'll sleep with him.
Roy (smiling): Eli's lucky to have a mom like you.
Claire, watching from the sidelines with a deadpan face:
Who's in charge? Who has the final say? Is it not obvious?