As the days were slowly melting into each other, Ryan realized that not only he had great chemistry with Bruce and Emily but that he enjoyed them as people. Bruce gave practical advice and carried a no-nonsense attitude towards everything he did and Emily had that dry, witty sense of humor that cracked him up between takes. It was a privilege to work with such incredible actors. Too many times in past jobs he had to carry a scene on his own shoulders while the other performer is complaining about him, the fidgety director, the long business class flight to the Hamptons or Lake Como but never their own abilities.
'I can tolerate a bad actor. But a bad personality? You might as well apply to be a clown—at least then, you're getting paid to make people laugh.'
The sun was at its peak and the crops were rustling in the wind when Emily tapped my shoulder saying, "Do you want a date?"
"No. Ha, no I'm good".
"You're missing out. The craft service people really upped their game. Has to be because Bruce is here."
She smirked and ate up the dried up dates in three at a time. She asked, "What are you going to do when you're out of here?"
Ryan put on his Wayfarer's and said, "To be completely honest with you, l don't know. And for the first time, l swear, l'm not worried about it".
"You shouldn't be worried. I was confused on what to do after Devil Wear Prada, you know, it was such a hit."
"Yeah"
"But then l took roles that l have never done. I was in a rom com about Jane Austen; that was a fun movie to be in "
"A rom-com movie? Sounds nice. You know when you think about rom-com movies as a reflection of world politics."
"Ha." She nodded her head and looked at Ryan's sunglasses.
"Why would In Notting Hill, the character Anna Scott, an American actress, the epitome of beauty and high standards while William Thacker is your average bookseller from London, a rather unequal counterpart to the actress. The movie is simply reflective of the power imbalance that exists between the two countries in world politics."
"As a Brit, lm fuming". They both laughed at the absurdity of shifting from dates to politics.
"Oh, lm so sorry, Dame" He exaggeratedly bowed towards her.
The pause was filled with footsteps of the crew moving things around for the last scene of the film. Ryan asked a question that was on his mind throughout filming and trusted Emily.
"What do you think about being with a reporter?"
"Hmmm. If you're serious, then you're young then why not. But personally, the line can get blurry if not done correctly"
"Yeah. Your right"
Pause. "You know. I need to get my Bruce Willis look on. Bye"
"Okay"
As he walked towards the makeup department, he was filled with a bit of dread for the conclusion of filming and not seeing these people.
***
Rian Johnson stood by the monitor, sleeves rolled up, a laminated script folded in his hand. He walked over to the trio—Ryan Stone, Emily Blunt, and Bruce Willis—each standing quietly near their marks.
"Alright," Rian said, voice calm but focused. "Ryan, you're already at the edge of the field. You see Joe walking toward Sara and the kid. You've figured it out, what's going to happen if you don't stop it. But you don't say it. Just internalize it."
The golden hour washed everything in amber. Wind gently rippled the rows of corn. It was quiet, save for distant thunder. It felt like he was on a different planet.
Young Joe stood alone near the edge of the field, shotgun in hand, heart thudding like a drum under his shirt. His face was streaked with grime and sweat. He looked past the stalks. Emily was holding the boy, shielding him. Old Joe. strode closer, pistol out, determined.
"Stay back!" Emily shouted, her voice fraying at the edges.
Bruce kept walking, gaze locked on the boy. No hesitation. No mercy.
The camera was tight on Ryan. He watched the scene unfold, lips parted, breathing ragged. This wasn't just a character decision. It was a human decision. You could see him working it out in real time—pain, guilt, and clarity flickering across his face.
Ryan didn't blink. He looked down, replaying everything in silence: the Rainmaker's future, the broken cycle, Sara's trembling hands, the blood, the wreckage.
Then… the shift.
He turned the shotgun on himself.
Emily went still. Bruce froze. For a second, the world stopped.
Ryan said the line in his head, trying his best to live it. Just broken honesty:
"So l changed it ."
He gave the faintest smile to Sarah. A goodbye and a thank you. A flash of clarity struck him:
'I hate my older self. He was blinded by the chase of fame and success and didn't even notice the only person who loved him unconditionally. In this life, l will change it and not give up with drugs or liquor'
The shot rang out. His body fell on the floor and there was just silence.
Rian finally stood up behind the monitor. "Wow," he said. That was the best scene Ryan did in the whole movie.
A ripple passed through the crew. People looked around like they'd just come out of a trance.
Emily stayed crouched in the dirt, still holding the boy. She didn't speak. Her chest moved in shallow breaths; getting mentally prepared for her scene.
Bruce walked past Ryan on the way back to basecamp and gave him a soft pat on the shoulder. "Good work, man."
Ryan didn't respond. He just looked out over the corn, still in it.
Rian called out, "Okay. Now, Emily and Pierce. Action". Ryan moved out of the way and sat on a chair nearby.
The camera cut to a crying Sarah who embraced her son. And as Sarah holds Sid, she walks over to the truck and he says, "Where's Joe?"
"Cut!"