Gottia sat at the head of the conference table, facing the entire cast.
After listening to their worries, she gave them a knowing smile. "You guys haven't even read the script yet. I have. Trust me; it's beautiful. It's got this dreamy, poetic romance running through it."
"Manager, are you sure?" one of them pushed back. "You know how important name recognition is. A total unknown script is gonna have a hard time selling tickets. And the score…"
Gottia cut him off. "I get it, I really do. But I'm green-lighting this because the script is magnetic. I've heard a few of the demo tracks; they're fantastic. Not one bit inferior to Chicago. Jazz is the only genre that can hide heavy social commentary behind all that glitz and glamour. A slightly satirical, real-world musical like La La Land? Jazz is perfect for it."
"Not everybody's Bob Fosse," someone muttered. "He pulled that off because he was from Chicago and poured his soul into it."
Gottia just smiled wider. "Exactly. Bob Fosse was a Chicago guy, so Chicago felt authentic. Joey's a born-and-raised Angeleno. Give her the same shot. She's about to take everything that made her a movie genius and translate it into the most authentic love letter to Los Angeles you've ever seen."
(La La Land literally means "L.A.-L.A. Land," after all)."
She flashed back to what Joey had told her: "I love this city with every fiber of my being. This show? It's my love letter to L.A."
Bottom line: Gottia had 100% faith in Joey and was doing everything she could to get the company on board. Under a mix of gentle persuasion and subtle arm-twisting, the cast finally caved. Gottia had been running this theater for years; people trusted her gut.
On Joey's end, she was still hunting for her leading lady. She'd already had the perfect in-house guy for the male lead, but the female lead? Nothing had clicked yet.
She'd posted the casting call a week ago and auditioned a bunch of actresses, but nobody had the right vibe. Stage doesn't demand quite the same hyper-specific look as film, but it still; it had to be in the ballpark. Unfortunately, because the Olympia Theater wasn't exactly thriving right now, a lot of top-tier Broadway women weren't knocking down the door.
Then, out of nowhere, the perfect person walked in.
Emma Stone.
Joey almost dropped her clipboard. Are you kidding me right now? Destiny much?
In her previous life, Emma Stone had won the Oscar for the La La Land movie. Right now, though, she was still a working actress in Hollywood taking whatever supporting roles she could get, while moonlighting on Broadway to keep her singing and dancing chops sharp. She'd trained in musical theater for years and was totally comfortable on stage.
And her age? Perfect. In the original timeline she'd been just a hair too old for the part; now she was in her absolute prime, fresh-faced and radiant.
It was like the universe hand-delivered her.
Joey didn't even let Emma finish her second song before offering her the role on the spot.
Rehearsals for La La Land kicked off in earnest. Yeah, the company was still skeptical, but they were willing to try.
Joey knew she was in over her head; she'd been cramming books, masterclasses, YouTube tutorials, everything; but she still brought in a seasoned assistant director to execute her vision and a killer choreographer to handle the dance and musical side where she was weakest.
One day, after a long rehearsal, Tom Cruise showed up to check on her.
He spotted her from across the lobby and hit her with that megawatt, gentle smile. "Gottia told me everything. I had no idea you were crazy enough to tackle a full-blown original musical."
Joey let her hair down from its messy rehearsal ponytail. The dark waves fell soft around her still slightly baby-faced cheeks. She laughed. "I didn't think I was crazy either until I said yes. But it's too late now; I'm just gonna give it everything and hope I pull off a Christmas miracle for the Olympia."
Tom studied her with a quiet smile. "So your whole brain is just 'miracle miracle miracle' right now?"
She grinned but didn't answer.
They started walking side-by-side down the Great White Way. "Every week I bring my mom to a show here," he said. "Soon as La La Land opens, we're coming. Gotta support the project I helped get off the ground, right?"
Joey groaned playfully. "Oh, so this is all your fault. I just wanted to assistant-direct something tiny, maybe even be a script supervisor, learn some tricks. Instead you dropped me in the deep end and now I'm stuck. But whatever; my life motto is 'go big or go home,' so I guess we're doing this."
Tom glanced down with a low, warm laugh. "You're blaming me for this?"
"Obviously. I never thought I was ready for something this huge."
"Hey, I only asked Gottia if she had any openings for you to learn. I didn't tell her to hand you the keys to the whole theater."
They reached the parking garage. He nodded toward his car. "Want a ride?"
She shoved her hands in her coat pockets, looking effortlessly cool. "Nah, hotel's close. I'm good walking."
She gave him a quick wave; "Bye!"; and started off.
The second they passed each other, he lightly grabbed her forearm. Not rough, just enough to stop her. She turned, surprised.
His smile was softer now. "When I said 'give you a ride,' I actually meant: wanna grab a drink?"
Joey blinked, then laughed awkwardly and slid her arm free. "Fine, fine; one drink. Let's go."
They ended up in a quiet, upscale restaurant on Broadway, tucked into a private booth.
Joey was starving after rehearsal, so she ordered a fat steak. Tom had already eaten dinner, so he just got juice, a couple cookies, and a dessert.
Joey raised an eyebrow. "Didn't peg you as a dessert guy, Mr. Sweet Tooth."
He popped a cherry tomato in his mouth, chewing slowly. "I don't smoke, barely drink; a guy's gotta have some vices. It's not that I'm obsessed with sweets. I just don't hate them."
She grinned, teasing. "No smoking, no hard liquor; rare breed in this town. No wonder you're a superstar."
He shot her a sideways "really?" look. "Don't butter me up. You're cute until you start kissing ass; then it gets ugly fast."
She sneakily stuck her tongue out at him. Jerk. Can't even take a compliment.
"You living alone these days?" he asked casually over dinner.
Weirdly personal, but okay. "Yeah. Got a little place up in the Santa Monica Mountains."
"Santa Monica Mountains…" He let it hang, like he was picturing it. "The ocean views up there are insane. Where exactly? I've been thinking about buying something in that area."
She immediately back-pedaled. "Oh no no, you don't want my neighborhood. Mine's super basic; regular-people houses. Definitely not A-list worthy."
He gave her the most "girl, please" side-eye and dropped the subject.
Joey mentally face-palmed. Smooth, Joey. Superstars have egos; you basically just told him his taste is too fancy for your hood. Though honestly she was probably overthinking it; he wasn't actually planning to move next door.
He switched topics, but it still felt like gentle prying. "So it's really just you? No family?"
"Yeah. Parents are gone."
He nodded quietly, then went silent for a beat.
The whole vibe felt… off tonight. She couldn't put her finger on it.
"You cook for yourself?" he asked out of nowhere.
She stirred her juice with the straw. "When I'm home, yeah. Nothing fancy; pizza, pasta, the occasional cake."
He smiled to himself. "Didn't know you were handy in the kitchen."
He glanced out the window, then back at her. "You were actually pretty good when we danced that night. Not nearly as clumsy as you claimed. Did you train before?"
"Hugh taught me a little; I used to be hopeless." She shrugged.
Tom locked eyes with her. "I'm actually really good at waltz. I could teach you properly."
She laughed, flattered but assuming it was just polite chit-chat. "Thanks, I'll definitely take you up on that sometime."
"I've got a dance studio in my Beverly Hills place," he said, completely calm and matter-of-fact, like inviting someone to his private home was the most normal thing in the world. "End of next month I'm free. Want me to pick you up and we'll work on it?"
Excuse me, WHAT?
Did Tom Cruise just casually invite her to his house… again?
She was still processing when he added, like he'd read her shock, "I'm also having Jack over to talk about a couple projects. You could come hang, see if anything interests you."
Somewhere in Alaska, Jack Hanson sneezed and had no idea his weekend had just been hijacked.
After the whirlwind of signals bouncing around her brain, Joey finally just nodded. How do you say no to your lifelong idol?
Tom's smile turned victorious; like a panther that just watched the gazelle walk into the trap. "Cool. It's a date, then."
They finished up, he drove her home, and the second he got back to his own hotel he called Jack.
Jack answered, groggy. "Dude, I'm in Alaska. I can't make it back!"
"I'll pay for the ticket."
"FCK!"