"Oh… you found that?"
Leon walked over, setting breakfast on the table, his tone deliberately casual.
Scarlett whipped around, her wide eyes locked on him, her voice shaky with shock.
"Leon Donaldson! What is this?! Lucy? 100% brain power?"
"You've got me slated as the lead? How many secrets are you keeping from me?!"
She jumped up, grabbed his arm, and shook him as if she could rattle all his secrets loose.
"Spill it! When did you write this? How does your brain hold Vermeer and… this at the same time?"
Leon chuckled, half-amused, half-exasperated, steadying her.
"Calm down, Scarlett, calm down. Sit."
He guided her back to the chair and leaned against the table, glancing at the Lucy concept outline on the screen, his eyes glinting with ambition.
"This was… an idea I've had for a while," he began, choosing his words carefully.
"It's a wild concept about unlocking humanity's ultimate potential. It's completely different from Girl with a Pearl Earring—different from everything I'm working on now."
He met Scarlett's gaze, his eyes intense.
"But, Scarlett, when I dreamed up this girl named Lucy, you were the first person I pictured."
Scarlett's heart skipped a beat.
"Why?" she asked, her voice hoarse. "She… she's barely human by the end!"
"Exactly," Leon said firmly, tapping the name "Lucy" on the screen.
"This role needs someone who can feel real and vulnerable at the start, then shift to this cold, almost divine evolution in the middle, and by the end, embody a pure, formless consciousness."
"It needs a face that's instantly recognizable but can carry extreme emotions and transformations. Eyes that can go from terrified and helpless to hollow and otherworldly, then to compassionate and all-knowing."
He looked at her deeply.
"Scarlett, I believe you can do it. I believe you can make audiences buy into this crazy story. You can give a 'god' the arc of humanity's beginning and end. It's a performance challenge like no other, but it'll be a screen presence that shakes the world."
He paused, softening his tone.
"Of course, this is just a very early concept and outline. It's even further out than Girl with a Pearl Earring. That one just needs the right timing and director. Lucy? It needs massive funding, cutting-edge visual effects, maybe even tech that isn't fully developed yet. It's probably a three-to-five-year project."
But Scarlett wasn't listening anymore.
Her heart swelled with overwhelming excitement and emotion.
She stared at Leon, this man who seemed to have an endless well of creativity and vision. Not only had he charted a path for her in the arts, but he'd also built her a battleship to conquer the commercial and sci-fi realms.
Griet and Lucy. A quiet pearl and a raging cosmos.
Two entirely different crowns, both crafted for her.
Tears welled up again, but this time, they weren't just from being moved. They carried a wild joy, a sense of being fully seen, trusted with immense expectations, and handed incredible power.
"Leon…" She threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly, her voice choked yet strong.
"You're insane. A genius lunatic! I don't even know what to say…"
She looked up, tears streaming but her gaze fierce. "I want to do it! Griet! Lucy! Both of them! I'll give it everything I've got. I won't let you down. Never!"
Leon saw the blazing determination in her eyes, stronger than ever, and smiled warmly.
He knew these two wildly different projects were like twin shots of adrenaline, not only wiping away her flicker of jealousy but also fueling her with unshakable confidence and direction.
He gently wiped her tears and kissed her forehead.
"Of course, my Griet, my Lucy," he said with a soft laugh. "They're yours. It's just a matter of time."
He nodded toward the cooling breakfast on the table. "Now, how about we feed a certain soon-to-be superhuman and newly minted Griet who's barely eaten since last night?"
Scarlett laughed through her tears, nodding enthusiastically.
Her eyes darted back to the futuristic Lucy title on the screen, her heart already soaring toward that mind-bending, time-transcending future.
Yet her feet were firmly on the path to Vermeer's Delft studio.
The future had never felt so clear—or so thrilling.
After calming Scarlett's whirlwind of emotions and dreams for what lay ahead, they shared a slightly delayed breakfast.
Leon kissed her forehead again before diving back into the whirlwind of The Princess Diaries work.
The next few days were a sweet, luxurious interlude in Leon's hectic life.
By day, he ruled the set, building Disney's fairy-tale kingdom.
By night, he returned to a warm haven where Scarlett waited.
Spurred by the two projects, Scarlett grew even more affectionate and clingy.
She'd eagerly debate the subtext of a Girl with a Pearl Earring line or toss out wild questions about Lucy's superpowers.
And, of course, there were tender, intimate moments.
She'd fumble in the kitchen, wearing his shirt, attempting dinner.
She'd drag him to the couch to watch obscure European art films she'd brought back, tossing out sharp critiques.
And in the quiet of the night, her warmth and passion melted away his day's fatigue.
Leon cherished this fleeting time together.
He could feel Scarlett trying to weave herself fully into his life, soaking up every moment of stability and sweetness as if storing energy for the road ahead.
One morning, a harsh phone ring shattered the bedroom's peace.
It was Scarlett's agent.
Sofia Coppola had finalized the schedule, and Lost in Translation's Golden Globes promo tour was kicking off, starting with a major media event in New York. The flight was in a few hours.
Scarlett took the call, her sleepy sweetness giving way to professional calm. She confirmed times and details in a brisk tone.
Hanging up, the room fell silent for a moment.
She turned to Leon, her eyes full of reluctance and a touch of resignation.
"Time to go?" Leon asked softly, pulling her back into his arms.
"Yeah," she mumbled, burying her face in his chest.
Since performing on stage at 8 and filming movies at 11, Scarlett was used to this nomadic, schedule-driven life. Rest and peace were rare luxuries.
Leon held her tightly, understanding.
"Go, Scarlett," he said, stroking her soft hair. "Show the world your light. Don't forget—you're not just Sofia's Charlotte. You're about to be my Griet and, one day, everyone's Lucy."
She laughed at that.
They got up quickly, and Scarlett packed with practiced efficiency that tugged at Leon's heart. She neatly sorted glamorous gowns, delicate shoes, and everyday clothes into her massive suitcase.
Leon helped carry it to the door, where her agent's car waited.
No long, lingering goodbyes. Scarlett stood on her toes, giving him a brief but deep kiss.
"Wait for me," she said, holding his gaze.
"Always," Leon replied with a smile.
He watched her slide into the car, wave through the window, and disappear down Beverly Hills' winding roads. A quiet pang settled in his chest.
The lively villa felt silent, almost hollow.
Her perfume and laughter seemed to linger in the air.
He stood at the door for a moment, sighed softly, and turned back inside.
Good times came fast and left just as quickly.
That was the life they'd chosen—glamorous but often apart.
But he knew separations were just preludes to better reunions.
Taking a deep breath, he tucked away the personal feelings, his gaze sharpening with focus.
Today, the Princess Diaries set awaited him for a crucial meeting about the final design of the princess's coronation gown.