That night, to celebrate the dramatic reversal of the public controversy and to reward Landon for his restrained and appropriate performance at the press conference, Jennifer prepared a gift very much in her personal style—a reenactment of the character she played in "Heart of Justice."
Returning to their temporary apartment, Landon found the interior dimly lit, with only a few wall lamps and the flickering candlelight on the coffee table.
The air was filled with a stronger scent of perfume than usual.
Just as he adjusted to the dim light, he saw Jennifer's silhouette leaning against the bedroom doorframe.
Jennifer had completely replicated the classic look of the heroine from the movie:
A tight-fitting, black shiny mini-dress that outlined her perfect figure;
On her feet were stiletto heels.
Her black stockings shimmered subtly in the dim light.
Her makeup was heavier than usual, with striking red lips and upturned eyeliner.
Her posture had changed as well; it was no longer Jennifer's own carefree relaxation, but a professional languor unique to the character—both catering and aloof. One hand rested lightly on the doorframe, and her gaze met his through a few strands of deliberately loose curls, holding a kind of hollow temptation.
Landon's heart skipped a beat. He stopped in the middle of the living room, mirroring the first gaze of the male lead in the movie who was eventually drawn to this character and sucked into the vortex.
Jennifer didn't speak, only curling her lips into a faint smile.
She began to move slowly.
First, she bent slightly, her fingers skillfully unfastening the stiletto straps at her ankles, letting the first shoe fall.
Then she repeated the action with the other one.
The shoes made a sound as they hit the carpet.
Next, she hooked her fingers into the edge of the fishnet stockings and, at an extremely slow pace, peeled them down her legs bit by bit.
The black mesh gradually stripped away from her skin, revealing the fair legs beneath.
Finally, she slowly pulled down the side zipper of the tight black shiny dress a bit, but didn't take it off completely, just letting the tight fit loosen slightly.
Then, she turned around, her back to him, and brushed all her curly hair to one shoulder with her hand, right where the dress's zipper was located.
This was a silent invitation, and also the iconic beginning in the movie.
Landon felt his throat tighten.
This was more impactful than any direct intimacy; he took a deep breath and stepped forward.
His fingers touched the cold zipper pull, and then he slowly pulled it downward.
The sound of metal teeth separating echoed in the quiet room.
As the zipper slid down, the dress opened to both sides, revealing her entire back and the bra clasp.
His fingertips inevitably brushed against her skin, feeling her slight tremor—whether it was a reaction required by the character or Jennifer herself.
When the dress slipped from her shoulders and piled at her feet, she turned around.
At that moment, the professional, hollow temptation in her eyes receded like a tide, instantly replaced by Jennifer's own fiery, cunning, and affectionate gaze.
The barrier of role-play shattered.
She reached out to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him toward her, her red lips pressing against his; all the deliberate slowness and aloofness instantly burned into an impatient intimacy.
They collapsed onto the bed, the candlelight causing their intertwined shadows on the wall to shake violently. This was a celebration, a revelry where only they understood all the codes and references.
The pressure, the annoyance of public opinion, and the fatigue of work were all crushed and discarded in the tacit reenactment and intense response to the movie scenes... Long afterward, Landon watched as Jennifer carefully hung up the sequined dress; the fishnets were probably unusable, so she tossed them casually into the trash, a flush of excitement on her face.
Regarding Jennifer's obsession with this kind of role-play, Landon's feelings were indeed complex—a mix of love and hate.
Love was the deep understanding and enjoyment.
This game of performance and reality that only they could fully comprehend.
It made him feel that their connection had reached the soul level of their respective professions.
And the hate was a "hate" accompanied by a smile of affection and helplessness.
He hated that he was always so passive in this game.
Moreover, the script, the look, and the plot development were always meticulously planned by Jennifer.
He was like an audience member awarded the "Best Interaction Award"—highly involved, but without any control.
He occasionally wondered when he would be able to direct such a "play" himself.
But at the thought that Jennifer might burst out laughing or improvise and change the scene, he felt that being the "director" was truly difficult.
This feeling of being led by the nose yet enjoying it immensely left Landon quite helpless.
"Next time," Landon pulled her back into his arms, kissed her shoulder, and said with feigned seriousness,
"Can you pick a character whose clothes are easier to take off? Or let me choose the script?"
Jennifer chuckled in his arms, her finger tracing circles on his chest:
"That depends on how wonderful a'set' 'Director Landon' can provide. However, the role of a call girl really tests the 'co-star's' improvisation and 'emotional investment,' sir."
She imitated the character's slightly husky tone, but her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Landon didn't know whether to laugh or cry and could only tighten his arms. He secretly decided he really had to find an opportunity to "strike back" once.
However, what Landon didn't know was that their private "movie rerun" wasn't entirely without an off-site audience.
Zoe, next door, once again passively listened to tonight's "radio drama."
Unlike the previous times, tonight's "sound effects" were more characteristic: the clear sound of high heels hitting the floor, the friction of a certain special fabric, long silences and slow movements, followed by the sound of emotions suddenly heating up.
Zoe was a dutiful assistant and would never actively pry into privacy unless she couldn't help it.
Recently, Zoe's favorite thing was to guess what the plot was, though she would never have imagined it was a repetition of Jennifer's past movie plots.
When Jennifer began, Zoe couldn't find a character to project onto, which undoubtedly made her feel uncomfortable at first, but later she didn't really need a character; as long as she enjoyed it along with Jennifer, there was no need to consider character issues at all.
Of course, the end result was the price of Zoe's lethargy the next day. But even so, Zoe still enjoyed it!
Separated by a single wall, Landon and Jennifer fell asleep in each other's arms, completely unaware of the existence of Zoe, the "veteran listener."