November 10.
A week of filming—that's what passed through the halls of the recording studio. Ten scenes had already been shot, with fifty more yet to go, at least. Many of the recordings were long, lasting three or four minutes, while other scenes featured different actors—skilled performers like Sean Bean and Djimon Hounsou—who, at a slower pace, played numerous roles. This stood in stark contrast to Billy, who had only a supporting role and, for the first time, a leading role secured through money and Jerry's hallway connections, which had earned him the part he longed for.
–I don't feel like going to the party, I'm exhausted – said Scarlett, her eyes pleading, glistening.
–Would you rather I go alone? – Billy replied, stretching and paying attention to the way her brow furrowed. Even if she didn't show it, jealousy over the party still simmered hot and vivid in the blonde.
–Fine, just give me a bit of time to get ready – said Scarlett, seething with anger over how he overlooked her feelings. But what could they do? Billy's party-loving side now seemed to shine with bold, vibrant lights.
–You'll meet a good friend – Billy said, flipping through the script. He now had a vague idea about the upcoming scenes—the awakening of Lincoln as he realizes everything happening on that island is nothing but a setup, a place where people are used as experiments. Strange thoughts drive Lincoln's mind.
He just needed to add some of his ideas and present them to the director—maybe some powerful reflections on philosophical loneliness, the lack of purpose or direction in life. A topic for the youth, those who didn't yet know they were destined for death.
–What did you write? – Scarlett asked, her wet blonde hair clinging to her shoulders. She wore only her underwear, fully aware that maybe… she could use her charms to sway him not to go to the party. But that wasn't her style. She loathed the idea of doing something like that.
–I'd like to give my character some goals. Maybe you could help me breathe life into him—something that might capture your attention too. I don't want to mix in music, but I would like to give Lincoln some depth. Maybe something that matters to Jordan, too, so her dreams aren't just about seeing the island. I want there to be something different, something that binds them together in a casual but meaningful way – Billy explained.
–For example… – the blonde whispered – watching the stars and enjoying the air. When you have very little, you learn to find joy in things that don't seem to exist. –
Scarlett slipped into a flowing red dress that he knew looked stunning on her. It was her striking way of marking her presence with beauty. She had a few aces up her sleeve to fight for the attention she deserved. Something inside her told her hiding their relationship now was a problem she didn't want to deal with. Something deeper, more primal—indifferent to the critics. After all, she had a lovely cabin in Massachusetts to escape to, far from the press, whether their coverage was positive or negative. Escaping was always a good result.
–We'll need to go over the script. I like your idea – said Scarlett.
–I have a reservation at a restaurant. I've been wanting to try some of the best places in L.A. for a while now. This one has some of the best reviews in the city, Billy told her.
–Then I guess the dress is a bit much – Scarlett replied.
–You look fantastic. No need to be nervous. I'm going to wear a burgundy suit. I've been wanting to accompany a beautiful lady on a grand fashion runway for a long time – said Billy, putting on a deep burgundy suit with a white shirt, a burgundy tie, and pointed brown shoes. His hair was slicked back neatly.
–Wow… now I think you and I could be the face of fashion labels – said Scarlett, eyeing the tailored look.
–It was custom-made. The Dior house made three—this burgundy one, a blue one, and a black one with color accents – Billy added, noting to himself that he needed to make a call for some photos. The magazines were waiting for him to promote the outfit; fashion always seemed to be on his side.
…
Just as he thought, the photos came swiftly. The scene in Los Angeles was utterly wild—paparazzi snapping away, though in smaller crowds. The magic faded after a few shots, and some fans approached for autographs, which he declined with a wink. Autographs, at least for now, were an accessory to the way both he and Scarlett sparkled in the photos. As night fell, people turned their attention to tomorrow's headlines. Luckily, the publicity was just a surface detail.
–So, Mr. Carson, where's your suit from? – asked a paparazzo from Warner's media outlet, one they had a close relationship with, thanks to Jerry.
–It's an evening collection by Dior – Billy replied.
–And the woman beside you…?
–She has her voice. She's the co-star in the film I'm working on. A true rose. Have a great evening, – Billy said, stepping into the party, which turned out to be more chaotic than he expected. Surprisingly, he ran into an old acquaintance of Leonardo DiCaprio, with Gisele as radiant as ever, though the overall mood seemed tense and perhaps unfavorable for his purposes.
Their mutual friends were always interconnected. The music blared as he led Scarlett to a small table. He waved to Adriana, her bright green eyes shining with a deep, urgent need.
–Billy, it's been ages, darling – said Adriana, hugging him and whispering – That blonde has no idea what she's gotten herself into. –
Billy saw those bright, sharp eyes—he knew she was seething inside. He chuckled at how calculated her every move was. Models, in his opinion, were passionate creatures when it came to love. They didn't want to commit but expected everyone around them to do so. It wasn't like Avril or Leighton. Even Scarlett, much more informed on political and social issues in Hollywood, preferred discretion and calm.
–Alessandra… I heard you're about to get engaged – Billy remarked.
–That seems to be… a real headache for all of us – Gisele replied, walking confidently in her high heels.
In the distance, Leonardo was seen sipping champagne with some of his friends as they danced.
–Make sure to invite me to the wedding. I've got someone I'd like to bring – Billy said, pulling Scarlett closer. She was surprised but didn't protest—he was sure that alone would earn him some favor with the woman he considered a great talent, though ultimately, that didn't matter.
–Forgive my bad manners, Scarlett. Let me introduce you to the angels—Adriana, Gisele, Alessandra, Ana Beatriz Barros, and Isabeli Fontana. All Latina, all talented – Billy said with a confident wink.
–What else can we do? – Adriana replied, fully aware of the game being played, though something in her stirred.
The party was intense, and Billy spent the whole night with Scarlett. They danced together, fully enjoying each other's company. Some songs hit just right, lighting up the evening. In the coming days, they had to travel to a small town in Nevada and then to Detroit. He was preparing to savor every last moment. Scarlett, cheeks flushed, greeted him sweetly, but she wasn't a fan of parties. Her distaste was the mark of a true madness—three a.m. came with a breeze of fresh air, and Billy ended up talking with Leonardo DiCaprio while Scarlett endured an awkward chat with some of the models. They were sharp, always knowing how to play their roles to perfection.
She was cunning, always hiding things—even from the others. Alessandra barely knew that Adriana had once slept in her bed. Still, it was strange how they always managed to weave a web through the branches, a hard environment built from a hard world.
–Be careful with some of these faces. The party area is always fantastic, and people may seem happy, but there are limits. You've got to know how to draw the line – said Leonardo.
–That much I know… my life is built on limits – Billy replied. – Though I fear women might be a liability. It's frustrating how easy it is to connect with them, yet how hard it is to truly bond with any of them. –
–You're right about that. Fame makes a genuine connection more difficult. A lot of people wear masks—even those you've called friends for years, Leonardo said, clearly aware of the challenges.
–You either believe that, or you find it hard to adjust – Billy added.
–For me, relationships aren't an option – Leonardo said, taking a long sip of champagne.
–Hahaha, the eternal bachelor life… sounds like my bandmate Jack Sauce. He used to say that he'd have a different woman for every day of the year—and on the days he didn't, he'd have two the next – Billy laughed.
–Nice idea, but that's not how it works… You've got to be selective. That green-eyed woman—Adriana—she's something special, Leonardo noted, watching the smiling angel.
–I like your song Lose Yourself. Is it true you wrote it in juvie? – he asked.
–I did, but it was more of an inspired moment. I'd always wanted to collaborate with Eminem, but everything got cancelled. Maybe we'll reconnect—we just haven't lined up yet… Why? You into rap? – Billy asked.
–Big fan. But yours is one of the best. The way you channel that pressure from deep within—it's one of the most powerful I've seen in a long time – DiCaprio said.
–It's strange, but when you write a song, you never know if it'll be a hit. You just sing it and hope it connects… I remember when it came to me, I'd just been beaten up. It was brutal – Billy answered.
He recalled it like a forgotten time—friends who turned out to be enemies, others who just played along, posing as companions. Only Connor remained—one of the few who had ever truly stood by his side.
...