Vikram stopped his car outside a large, elegant house.
He looked at Sofia and said softly, "We're here. This is your home."
Sofia smiled and turned toward him.
"Thank you, Vikram. I gave so many auditions, but I was never selected. And you chose me as the heroine of your film without any audition. Thank you so much."
Vikram smiled back at her.
"Sofia, you're talking like a child," he said gently. "I love you. Everything I did, I did out of love. And remember one thing—between friendship and love, there is no sorry and no thank you. Understand?"
Sofia laughed playfully.
"Oh really? Fine then. No sorry, no thank you from today. Okay?"
"Okay," Vikram replied.
Sofia opened the car door and stepped out. Before closing it, she leaned in through the window.
"Alright, my love. Now go. You have a lot of work."
Vikram nodded.
"Yes, I'll leave after you go inside."
"Okay," Sofia said. "I'll go in first. Then you leave. I really do have many things to do."
She opened the gate and walked inside. When she reached the door, she rang the bell.
Only then did Vikram start his car and drive away.
The road was quiet. Vikram drove at a moderate speed. His mind slowly drifted back to the days when he had nothing.
He remembered walking into producers' offices with his script in hand—again and again. No one took him seriously. Some didn't give him time. Some read a few pages and laughed.
"This story is nonsense," they said.
One producer even told him,
"I'll buy your story, but first you give me five hundred thousand rupees. Consider it a small registration fee."
Vikram was not that foolish. He knew that even after paying, rejection would still follow.
After countless rejections, he went to one last producer's office. He had already decided—this will be my final attempt.
That office became his destiny.
There, he met Johnny Albert.
Johnny Albert read Vikram's script carefully. Then he looked up and asked,
"Young man, what is your name?"
"My name is Vikram Sinha," Vikram replied.
"So, you're from India?" Johnny asked.
"Some of my relatives live in India," Vikram said. "But I've lived in America with my parents since childhood. Now I'm alone. My parents died in a car accident."
Johnny placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry, young man. Life is like this. It doesn't mean we stop struggling. If you want something, you must fight for it. That's the rule of life. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Vikram said.
"That's good," Johnny smiled. "Show me your script."
Johnny began reading.
After a few moments, his face lit up.
"I will make a film on this story," he said.
He immediately wrote a check, signed it, and handed it to Vikram.
"Here. Fifty thousand dollars."
Vikram wasn't shocked—but he knew his life was about to change.
That film was Dangerous Lady.
It became a massive hit. Actors, makers, and even Johnny Albert himself gained fame. Vikram's name shone as a writer for the first time.
Johnny organized a grand party at his farmhouse. Superstars and big producers attended. Only Michael and his son John didn't come—they were busy with a film shoot.
Late at night, as the party ended, Johnny called Vikram aside.
"My son," he said softly, slightly drunk but deeply sincere, "I don't have children. I don't know how long I'll live. But you have talent. Never waste it."
Vikram listened silently.
"Struggle is necessary," Johnny continued. "Without struggle, no one reaches their dreams. One day, you will be a great director. Big producers will come to your home."
Vikram felt warmth in his chest.
"You're right," he said. "Struggle makes destiny."
Johnny smiled.
"You should go now. It's very late."
Vikram left the farmhouse and got into his car—a beautiful BMW gifted by Johnny Albert after the film's success.
Months passed.
Vikram became a successful writer-director. Big producers visited his home. He worked on partnership deals, not fees. Money flowed in.
Then came the news.
While Vikram was shooting a film in London, Johnny Albert died. He had slipped into the swimming pool at his farmhouse.
By the time Vikram returned to America, Johnny had already been buried.
Vikram went straight to the graveyard.
He sat beside Johnny's grave, tears falling from his eyes.
"Someone once said," Vikram whispered, choking, "when a person is in the worst phase of his career, someone enters his life and changes everything… and then disappears forever."
He cried silently.
Present Day
8:35 p.m.
Vikram was still driving, lost in those memories.
Suddenly, in the rearview mirror—
He saw Johnny Albert.
Vikram slammed the brakes.
"Johnny… sir!" he gasped.
The road fell silent.