Sitting quietly on the chair, Natalie opened the script. The first thing that caught her eye was a sketch of a thin girl wearing a striped short-sleeved shirt. Her dark brown hair veiled a sorrowful face, and under her bright eyes were two trails of tears. Around her neck hung a silver, sun-shaped pendant that stood out strikingly.
Mathilda? Is this me? This girl clearly looked just like her.
Natalie didn't ask but kept flipping through. There were more than a dozen sketch pages, most of them clearly based on her, and a few depicted her facing off with a tall man with a big nose.
Although the drawings weren't of particularly high quality, the expressions and emotions of the characters were still recognizable. For some reason, after looking at these sketches, Natalie couldn't help but recall the book Lolita she had once secretly peeked at.
Maybe it's just my imagination. That annoying guy couldn't possibly be that perverted. Natalie shook her head and turned to the main body of the script.
Mafia? Hitman? Action scenes? Her brows furrowed. But then she remembered the script's title was Léon the Professional, so such scenes were to be expected.
As an exceptionally intelligent girl, she read very quickly and finally reached Mathilda's entrance. The tragic experiences of this prematurely mature girl instantly caught her attention—especially a few lines of dialogue, which were written quite well.
"Is life always this painful, or only when you're a kid?" — "Always this painful!"
It feels like something on par with The Sixth Sense. Not bad. That guy didn't slack off on this one. Natalie pulled out a smile. He can write something with this much depth, and yet he insists on catering to commercialism, afraid people won't smell the stink of money on him!
Yes! The stink of money! She remembered that was the exact Chinese term.
Natalie felt quite pleased, thinking that playing such a role would be a wise choice. However, her good mood didn't last. As the plot developed, her brows gradually knit together. When she saw the emotional exchanges between Léon and Mathilda, she suddenly realized—Mathilda was essentially a tough and unconventional Lolita!
Unconsciously, she pouted, her cheeks puffed up. She started skimming ten lines at a time, her mood growing increasingly conflicted. She had acted in quite a few stage plays and read many scripts. Especially after meeting Ryan, he had sent her a copy of every script he wrote. She had developed some taste.
Léon and Mathilda were both exceptionally well-crafted characters. Especially Mathilda—her personality and traits were practically tailor-made for Natalie. But why did there have to be that kind of emotional connection between her and Léon...?
Fine! She admitted—without that emotional thread, the script at best would've been average. But Ryan Jenkins, that bastard! This was the script he claimed he wrote just for her?
Natalie scratched her cheek and closed the script. Ryan leaned in and asked, "Nat..."
"Ryan, what were you thinking? Did you sneak-read Lolita?" Natalie didn't let him finish and fired off a question.
"Ah... Lolita..." Ryan was momentarily stunned, then quickly caught on. "Nat, you secretly read Lolita!?"
"…" Natalie opened her mouth but quickly changed the subject. "Ryan, seriously, what were you thinking? My God, a love story between a twelve-year-old girl and a middle-aged hitman—are you insane?"
"Oh, come on, Nat. It's just a fairy tale. A fairy tale about a hitman." Ryan waved it off and began weaving his argument. "You should be able to tell—the relationship between Mathilda and Léon is a complex mix of gratitude, paternal love, friendship, and admiration. It's not pure romantic love."
"I guarantee you, in the eyes of most people, it's going to look like an inappropriate romance." Natalie wasn't going to fall for his nonsense that easily.
"Alright then, to be honest, Nat, do you want to play Mathilda or not?" Ryan got straight to the point. All that back-and-forth was just noise.
"Well..." Natalie hesitated. Truthfully, the role was very appealing.
"Let me put it this way, Nat—if you perform well, people will definitely crown you as a genius actress." Ryan now tried the temptation route. Given his track record, he had some credibility.
Genius actress? Natalie was tempted. In storytelling, writing, and music, she would never surpass this guy in her lifetime. Acting was the only area where she might outshine him. She had to beat him in something, right?
Besides, she had worked so hard for so many years—all for a chance like this. Ryan was now her best friend. If the gap between their statuses grew too wide, it would definitely affect their friendship in the future. She didn't want to lose her only friend.
Still, something about this felt off. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it felt like Ryan had set a trap, and she was willingly walking right into it.
Ryan didn't say anything more. Natalie was clearly tempted. Once they got a response from France, she would probably make her decision.
The two of them had known each other for more than two years. One letter every week, two phone calls—it had barely ever been interrupted. He didn't believe that nonsense from his past life—"My future is in Jerusalem, not Hollywood." No one knew better than he did what this girl dreamed of—or rather, ambitioned. Not even her parents were an exception.
As night fell, after a quick phone call to Mrs. Shelley, Ryan and Natalie left the room and headed for the hotel's restaurant.
Mrs. Shelley knew they were each other's only friend of the same age, and they hadn't seen each other in a long time, so they must have a lot to talk about. She only reminded Ryan to argue less and make sure to send Natalie back before ten.
But Ryan sensed there was more meaning behind her words and scratched his head. He understood—Westerners matured early. Starting relationships at eleven or twelve wasn't unusual. And he and Natalie had a close bond. Mrs. Shelley worrying was natural.
Only… he really didn't have any such intentions right now. At least, that's what he believed. Look at Natalie—so skinny and frail, practically skin and bones...
Alright, still a very cute little Lolita. But he wasn't that much of a beast. After all, she was his best friend.
The Waldorf Astoria's Western restaurant offered a wide variety of dishes, and the chefs were top-tier. Unfortunately, there weren't many options suitable for Natalie. Most Western foods used animal fats. While vegetarians were common, few families were as strict as Natalie's.
Fruit salad, vegan cheese bread, mashed potatoes, apple pie—that was Natalie's meal. Ryan sat opposite her, with a plate of well-done steak and roasted lamb leg in front of him. Looking at her food, he suddenly had the urge to order her an entire roasted lamb leg.
"Nat, why do you insist on being vegetarian?" Ryan felt like enjoying his delicious food while she ate bland stuff was practically a crime.
"Dad's rules. He said it's Jewish tradition." Natalie shrugged indifferently.
Ryan rolled his eyes. He couldn't understand it. Natalie was a very opinionated girl. On most matters, even her father couldn't control her—like when she signed the agent contract with Ginsley. So why, when it came to food, did she suddenly become such a compliant daughter?
"I don't think vegetarianism is that bad," Natalie added.
"You don't think you're too skinny?" Ryan pointed to her thin arm. "This is our critical growth period. Plant-based protein can't fully replace animal protein. It'll affect your development. I bet, Nat, if you stick to vegetarianism, you'll grow up to be only about as tall as I am now."
"Five foot five?" Natalie's eyes sparkled. "I think that's a great height."
"Great?" Ryan raised an eyebrow and deliberately forked a piece of delicious steak, dramatically putting it in his mouth. Unfortunately, Natalie ignored him. "I'm telling you, Nat, I'll be at least six feet tall when I grow up. When you stand next to me and look that much shorter, don't cry."
"I'll wear high heels," Natalie countered. "Besides, Ryan, why do women need to be so tall? Hmm… like Nicole—don't take offense…"
Ryan gestured for her to continue. Natalie went on, "Take Nicole—she's a bit too tall. I think for women, it's best not to exceed five-foot-seven."
Ryan scratched his head. He had originally wanted to convince her not to stick so rigidly to vegetarianism. How had the conversation ended up on height? Worse, she had taken over the lead.
Actually, Ryan really wanted to tell her—If you keep eating strictly vegetarian, height might not be your biggest issue. In the future, your chest will at most be a B-cup… maybe even A.
But could he say that? If he did, knowing Natalie's personality, she'd definitely dump that fruit salad right onto his face.
Still unwilling to give up, Ryan kept trying to persuade her. "Nat, want to try some lamb? This is authentic French-style roasted lamb leg."
He cut off a piece, popped it in his mouth, and showed a look of bliss.
"Really?" Natalie gave him a big eye roll. "Ryan, I heard from a nutritionist that people who eat too much meat not only get rough skin—they also develop body odor!"
"Body odor?" Ryan widened his eyes.
"It's true." Natalie subtly flashed a V-sign under the table and continued, "So, you should try becoming a vegetarian!"
"Vegetarian?" Ryan didn't even need to think—he shook his head immediately. What could be more terrifying than not being allowed to eat meat? He still wanted to taste all the world's delicious food in this lifetime.
Even though Natalie was smart, she was still young. Faced with Ryan's silver tongue and some gentle coaxing and teasing, she ended up trying a small bite of the lamb. From the look on her face, she didn't hate it. In exchange, Ryan also ate a good amount of fruit salad and vegan bread.
After dinner, the two chatted for a while. Then Ryan called in an assistant to drive Natalie back home.
Even though Natalie had hijacked the conversation during dinner, Ryan was still very happy. Hardcore vegetarians were the most troublesome. Now that he'd found a crack in the wall, there would surely come a day when he could pry it wide open, right?