Chapter 6: Spicy Sauce to the Face.
"Yes, I just finished shooting Born on the Fourth of July. Director Oliver Stone is confident I'll get an Oscar nomination for Best Actor thanks to this film."
While they waited for the food, Tom Cruise chatted with Nicole and seemed to be enjoying himself, especially when sharing juicy Hollywood gossip and rumors. Coming from an insider, the stories were genuinely entertaining.
"Then I wish you success at the Oscars next year," Nicole offered a small compliment.
Success? Success at collecting air? Ryan kept a straight face on the outside, but inside he snorted with disdain. Even in twenty years you still won't get a single little gold statue!
"As for Days of Thunder, you're the one I want most for the role, but you know these things aren't decided by me alone." There was a clear hint in Tom Cruise's words.
"It's fine," Nicole replied, looking completely unbothered. "If the audition goes through, great. If not, I'm sure we'll have other chances to work together later."
Hearing her answer, Ryan relaxed a little. Everyone chased fame and fortune, but letting it blind you was never worth it. The woman beside him was ambitious, yet her head stayed clear.
The dishes arrived quickly. Ryan's portion stood out from the other two, especially the bright red side of arrabbiata sauce. Just looking at it made Nicole wince; she hadn't even tasted it and already felt sweat beading on her forehead from the smell alone.
Whether it was the osso buco, the spaghetti carbonara, or the crab ravioli he had ordered, everything was the most delicious food Ryan had eaten since his rebirth. Even though he had spent nearly ten years eating Western meals and his stomach had long adapted to cream and bread, some things buried deep in the soul never changed.
Especially the arrabbiata sauce he had specifically requested extra spicy — it satisfied him completely and gave him enormous confidence that the bright red sauce would do its job.
Honestly, Tom Cruise might have been a little arrogant and carried the typical big-star attitude that came with early fame, but he was handsome enough, elegant in his movements, and witty in conversation.
During the meal he kept Nicole laughing nonstop and even included Ryan — the person with the least presence at the table — by chatting about fun, child-friendly topics.
Watching Nicole enjoy herself, Ryan could only sigh inwardly. To be fair, Tom Cruise really did have what it took to charm any woman. It was perfectly normal for Nicole to feel drawn to him.
But he would never bow to the wheels of fate. No matter what, he would not let these two end up together again.
Ryan glanced at the nearly empty bowl that now held mostly bright red sauce. The corner of his mouth curved into a sly grin. Nicole seemed to sense something and suddenly looked at him warily. Luckily, after more than nine years of nonstop "acting," Ryan's face-changing skill was flawless. In an instant his expression returned to normal.
"Nicole, let me borrow your mobile phone. I just remembered something I need to ask Pat about." Ryan didn't even blink as he came up with the perfect excuse.
"What is it?" Nicole asked, but she still took the brand-new Motorola cellular phone — much smaller than a brick — out of her handbag and handed it over.
Taking the relatively compact phone, Ryan pushed back his chair and stood up to make the call elsewhere. Perhaps his legs had gone numb from sitting too long, because his body tilted. He didn't fall, but the phone he was holding near his shoulder inevitably slipped from his hand and headed straight toward the bowl of bright red sauce on the table.
"Careful!" Both Nicole and Tom Cruise warned him the moment he lost balance.
"Ah — the phone!" Ryan moved lightning-fast. Before the phone could drop, he snatched it out of the air. But the motion was too sharp and too quick; he lost his balance completely. To stop himself from crashing onto the table, his other hand instinctively shot forward for support.
Splash!
His hand landed squarely on the edge of the bowl facing Tom Cruise. Maybe the pressure was too strong, or maybe he applied just the right amount of clever force — nearly half a bowl of fiery red arrabbiata sauce flew straight forward through the air.
Most of it landed on the table and clothes, but a good portion still hit that handsome face.
The burning sensation of extra-spicy arrabbiata sauce to the face was something even hardened veterans of the past couldn't endure, let alone a pretty boy.
"Ahh~!"
This was the arrabbiata Ryan had specially ordered extra spicy. The moment it hit skin, the scorching heat was unbearable. Tom Cruise immediately covered his face and let out a muffled cry of pain. At least he remembered they were in public and tried to keep his voice down.
"I'm so sorry, Tommy!" Ryan apologized frantically. He sprinted around the table like a child desperate to make up for a mistake, grabbed a clean white napkin, and started wiping the handsome face. But every time the napkin turned red, he "accidentally" dabbed it toward Tom Cruise's eyes.
Just as he was about to succeed, a slender white hand reached out from behind and caught his wrist with pinpoint accuracy.
Nicole shot him a discreet glare. Before the waiters could rush over, she said, "Tommy, I apologize on Ryan's behalf. Do you need to see a doctor?"
Perhaps the burning sensation had passed, or perhaps he wanted to look gallant in front of a beautiful woman. Tom Cruise wiped his now bright-red handsome face with a napkin and said generously, "It's fine. Just an accident."
After all, Ryan was only a little over nine years old. As a big star, would he really stoop to arguing with a child?
When several waiters and the restaurant manager arrived, Ryan kept apologizing nonstop, looking genuinely remorseful.
Inside, however, he was laughing with delight. Mr. Cruise's perfect suit was now a mess, his handsome face had turned the color of a ripe tomato, and especially his eyes — they kept squeezing shut, watering nonstop, tears threatening to spill at any moment.
No matter what, Tom Cruise was a public figure. He couldn't stay in public looking like that for long. After exchanging a few words with the manager, he headed to the private changing room the restaurant kept for wealthy and famous guests.
The now filthy table was obviously unusable. Nicole and Ryan simply moved to another spot. While they waited for Tom Cruise to return, Nicole Kidman's blue eyes kept drifting toward Ryan. Her already cool and stunning aura was starting to feel more like an approaching ice age.
"I'm sorry, Nicole. I ruined your dinner with Mr. Cruise."
Ryan handed the phone back with a sincere expression. When he saw Nicole's unreadable face, the sincerity instantly turned into nervous unease.
"You really worry me more the older you get." Nicole sighed, grabbed Ryan's small hand that was stained with red sauce, and carefully wiped it clean with a napkin. She treated it as gently as if she were polishing the most precious porcelain.
The dinner that should have belonged to Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman had started pleasantly but ended in awkwardness. By the time Tom Cruise finished changing and returned, there was no point in continuing the meal.
Not to mention anything else, the big star really did have class — at least in front of a beautiful woman. He not only refrained from blaming Ryan but even comforted him with a few kind words, then drove both Ryan and Nicole back to their apartment in West Hollywood.
"Goodbye, Tommy. You're the coolest big star I've ever met."
The moment he stepped out of the Bentley, Ryan waved goodbye before Nicole or Tom Cruise could say another word.
"Well then… good night, Nicole. And Ryan."
Back in the apartment, Ryan tossed his backpack onto the sofa and stretched lazily, feeling incredibly satisfied. Sure enough, fighting the heavens was fun, fighting the earth was fun, but fighting people — that was the most fun of all.
Even though tonight's incident looked like nothing but an accident no matter how you sliced it, Ryan had the feeling that someone as sharp as Nicole had sensed something. Still, he wasn't worried. Even if the Australian woman caught him red-handed, the worst he would get was a fierce scolding — nothing he couldn't handle.
Even so, he decided it was best not to linger in front of her tonight. After saying good night, he hid in his room, took a shower, changed into fresh clothes, and sat down at his desk to continue the writing work that had consumed most of his time for the past three years.
After finishing revisions on the third Harry Potter book, he had temporarily set the series aside. The core ideas were already his; the later books shifted toward more mature themes anyway, so he could wait a few years before writing them.
Since entering 1989, most of his energy had gone into screenplays. Thanks to his previous-life job as a movie projectionist, his greatest passion was still film. He had studied many classic movie scripts back then, and during the two years in London he had read countless books on the subject.
The scripts he wrote now might still have flaws in shot division, but they were definitely no worse than any other newcomer screenwriter's.
For English, a typewriter or computer was obviously faster than handwriting — especially for someone like Ryan who rarely paused to think for long stretches while writing.
But typewriters were too bulky to carry, and the laptop's specs and DOS system would literally make him want to spit blood.
Damn you, Bill Gates. Couldn't you have released Windows a little earlier? Ryan shook out his wrist, picked up his pen, and grumbled to himself once again.
What he was writing now had nothing to do with any movie or novel from his previous life. Instead, it drew from certain online rumors and the shameless behavior of certain powers. Strictly speaking, it could be considered his own original work. Even though it was only a short sci-fi novella, for Ryan it still counted as progress, didn't it?
The story was actually already finished; he was mostly polishing it now. No matter what, he wanted it published successfully.
Although he had built a solid relationship with Analog Science Fiction magazine through the growing number of his works, a terrible story would still be a slap to his own face.
After who-knew-how-many readings of the manuscript, Ryan finally picked up his pen and added the title to this original short sci-fi story.
If anyone from his previous life had seen the title, their eyes would have popped first, then they would have burst out laughing — because the story was called The Universe's Greatest Superpower and the Invading Swarm!
Alright! Ryan admitted he sometimes let his mischievous side run a little too wild. Even though the self-proclaimed "greatest power in the galaxy" in the story wouldn't recognize the jab yet, poking fun at arrogant empires and their over-the-top propaganda was always ridiculously entertaining.
Originally, he had also wanted to write The Universe's Mightiest Military Empire and Its Glorious Eternal Leader, but after thinking it over he gave up. He would wait until that ridiculous hereditary dictatorship to the north became even more absurd before writing that one.