"Ding-dong!"
The doorbell chimes.
"Who's that?" Hunter Johnson yawns, covering his mouth as he shuffles over. He swings the door open, and his face shifts slightly. "Fred, how many times do I gotta tell you? My sister's not into you!"
Fred's dad is a production assistant, which got Fred a few small roles here and there. Six months ago, he spotted Scarlett at an audition, fell head over heels, and launched a full-on pursuit.
Too bad Scarlett's been ice-cold to him—she didn't even tell him about her birthday.
Fred's all serious now. "Hunter, I'm here for your sister. I've got something important to tell her!"
"She's not home."
Hunter's tall frame blocks the doorway, eyes rolling with disdain.
Fred's voice drops. "I'll say it again—I've got big news for her, and it's about her acting career!"
"Cut the crap and go scam someone else. My sister's not buying it." Hunter leans casually against the doorframe, happy to take a few jabs. "Besides, she's not here. She went out on a date last night—didn't come back."
"You… you're lying!" Fred's face turns green.
Hunter snorts, smirking. "Believe what you want! Now get lost—I'm trying to sleep!"
Fred panics. "Move! I'm serious—this is urgent!" Then, throwing all manners out the window, he starts yelling into the apartment. "Scarlett, come out! I've got great news! My dad's a producer on Johnny English! It's a big Universal Pictures blockbuster with Mr. Bean himself! This is your shot—I can put in a word for you!"
Truth is, his dad's just a production assistant handling logistics on Johnny English, but to Fred, small-timers like Hunter and Scarlett wouldn't know the difference between a producer and an assistant.
Just then, Vanessa Johnson strides over, her face stormy. "What's with the noise?"
Fred's eyes light up. He knows Vanessa's an actress too—lower on the totem pole than Scarlett. He jumps in quick. "Vanessa, I've got awesome news for you and Scarlett! My dad's producing Johnny English! I can get you both auditions!"
A while back, Vanessa would've rolled out the red carpet for him.
But things are different now.
Last night, her little sister Scarlett didn't come home!
And who was she out with? None other than Dunn Walker—the biggest name in Hollywood!
Next to Dunn Walker, Fred and his so-called producer dad are nobodies.
"Get out. We're not interested!" Vanessa snaps, shutting him down cold.
"You—"
Fred freezes, totally baffled. What's going on here?
Suddenly, a rhythmic click of heels echoes behind him: tap, tap, tap…
Then comes a husky, magnetic voice with a hint of challenge. "Fred, what're you doing here again?"
Fred swears he knows that voice, but when he turns around, he's floored.
Who's this bombshell?
She's got chestnut-blonde hair cascading freely, black sunglasses giving off a cool, commanding vibe. Her fiery red lips, though, hint at a sultry, seductive charm.
A scarlet trench coat covers her from head to toe, but it can't hide her full, curvy figure—like it's got a magnetic pull, drawing every guy's gaze.
This aura, this face, this body, this high-end, polished outfit—she could outshine half the Hollywood A-listers he's seen on set!
Fred's mind blanks. Since when do the Johnsons have friends like this?
Then Hunter, wide awake now, lets out a dramatic shout and bolts over in his slippers, grabbing Scarlett's arm with burning excitement. "Sis, you're stunning! I never realized you were this gorgeous—way hotter than any movie star!"
Scarlett catches her brother's gaze, a mix of affection and playful pride. Her chin tilts up naturally, like a regal swan, only making her more dazzling.
It finally clicks for Fred—this breathtaking woman is Scarlett, the girl he's been chasing!
He's as hyped as Hunter now, yelling and rushing toward her to grab her hand. "Scarlett, it's you—!"
Before he can finish—or even touch her—a burly guy standing quietly three meters back springs forward like a cheetah. Without a word, he lands a swift kick!
His voice is ice-cold, like it's straight from hell: "Touch her again, and I'll rip your arm off!"
Scarlett knows Dunn assigned her this ex-military bodyguard, but seeing him in action sends a shiver down her spine.
Hunter stares, awestruck, then lets go of Scarlett's arm too, muttering, "So cool! That's badass!"
Fred's sprawled on the floor, aching all over, shouting, "Who are you? I'll sue you!"
The bodyguard just glares, ignoring him.
Scarlett huffs, pulling Hunter along. "Come on, we're going inside!"
"Hey, Scarlett!" Fred scrambles up, stealing a wary glance at the hulking guy before pitching again. "My dad's producing Johnny English! I can get you an audition—wanna try?"
Hunter laughs like it's the funniest thing ever. "Audition? Keep it! My sister doesn't need auditions anymore!"
…
Back inside with the door shut, the three siblings hug, jumping with joy like a team celebrating a championship win.
"Ingrid, that outfit's gotta be worth at least 30 grand, right? And that bag—I know it's Hermès!" Vanessa gushes, eyeing Scarlett's look, her hands trembling as she touches the trench coat.
Scarlett grins, pulling an Amex Black Card from her bag and handing it over. "Borrow it—spend what you want!"
Vanessa's jaw drops. "This… a Black Card? I can just… spend?"
Back then, Amex Black Cards weren't as common as later years—they were a straight-up status symbol.
Hunter's eyes bug out. "Spend whatever? Sis, Mr. Walker's way too generous!"
Scarlett smirks, smug. "That's 'cause your sister's gorgeous, and he's into me! Sis, you can use the card for a week—buy whatever, but… try not to go over a million bucks. I'd have a hard time explaining that."
"A million dollars?!"
Vanessa gasps, stunned. She's never even seen ten grand in her life—now she's got a shot at a million-dollar spree. She's practically dizzy with excitement.
"We're rich! We're totally set now!"
Hunter's eyes glaze over, like he's lost in a dream, mumbling to himself.
Vanessa sighs. "Hunter, you gotta buckle down and get into a good college. You need to get it—this is all because of what your sister's… earned."
Scarlett waves it off grandly, pulling her siblings to the living room couch. "It's not that dramatic. Dunn totally spoils me. Oh, and he said I'm his girlfriend now!"
"What?!"
That bombshell hits harder than the million bucks.
Hunter's floored. "He dumped Natalie Portman?"
Vanessa's practically tearing up with glee. "Ingrid, you took out Natalie?!"
"Well… not exactly." Scarlett hesitates, then explains slowly. "Dunn… he's kinda into that polygamy vibe. He says Natalie's girlfriend number one, and I'm number two."
Vanessa and Hunter exchange a look, their faces twisting weirdly.
Scarlett continues, "Dunn went on this whole rant—I didn't catch all of it. Apparently, it's a thing with rich guys. Like, after Shizuka Redstone's divorce, she's living with two women—an Argentine model and a CBS anchor, both forty years younger. Bill Gates has two wives, Larry Ellison's got college girls—it's pretty common."
Vanessa blinks rapidly. "The papers say… Mr. Walker's tied to a ton of actresses. Did you ask? Is it true?"
Scarlett's smile falters.
She didn't ask, but at Dunn's Mid-Level estate, she saw plenty of actresses living there with him—Anne Hathaway, who she even knows.
"He said… they're just temporary flings. But I'm a real girlfriend—number two, sure, but it's serious, not like with them."
Vanessa scoffs, gritting her teeth. "Whatever, Ingrid, you gotta fight! Push Natalie Portman out and become girlfriend number one—no, his only girlfriend!"
Hunter rolls his eyes. "Big sis, don't give her dumb ideas. You know Natalie Portman? She's a Harvard genius—smarter than 99% of Americans! Telling Scarlett to compete with her is like handing her a gun and saying, 'Go shoot Natalie!'"
Vanessa snaps, "You little punk! I've got the Black Card—you're getting nothing!"
"Huh?!"
Hunter's face falls, and he looks like he's about to cry.
Scarlett stifles a laugh, pulling a key from her bag and dangling it on her pinky in front of Hunter.
His eyes light up, spotting the iconic bull logo. "Lamborghini! Sis, that's a Lamborghini key!"
Scarlett smirks, tossing it to him. "Get outta here—go check out your new car downstairs!"
"Whoa!"
Hunter's like a kid on Christmas, bolting out in his pajamas and slippers.
"That idiot—it's winter!" Vanessa mutters.