Chapter 7: The Studio Comes Knocking.
Nicole Kidman sat on the sofa with a stormy expression, radiating the same icy sharpness as a glacier. Even though she was furious inside, she hadn't said a single harsh word.
First, because scolding Ryan would go in one ear and out the other. Second, because she simply couldn't bring herself to do it.
If the incident two nights ago had only planted seeds of suspicion, then today's events had made everything crystal clear. If she still couldn't see that the little rascal had planned and schemed the whole thing, she would truly be an idiot.
Just thinking about how she had stood up the world-famous Tom Cruise for an entire morning made Nicole want to bury her face in her hands. She had only gone to the supermarket. While she was gone, the big star had called the apartment to invite her out. Ryan, the little monster, had promised to pass on the message — then acted as if nothing had happened and never mentioned it once. If Tom Cruise hadn't called again after waiting almost the whole morning, she would still be completely in the dark.
"You did it on purpose?" Nicole looked up at the shameless boy. He showed zero remorse. Her tone turned certain. "You did it on purpose! The night before last was on purpose too!"
Ryan had never expected to hide it from her anyway. He simply spread his hands and shrugged. He had already done it — the worst she could do was ground him. A dead pig didn't fear boiling water.
"Ryan Jenkins, what exactly do you want?" Although Nicole had tried to suppress her anger, the slow, measured way she spoke still sent a chill down the spine. "Do you have any idea what kind of consequences this could bring?"
She had never underestimated the boy's intelligence. Sometimes she even felt he was smarter than she was. She refused to believe he didn't understand that his actions might have ruined her audition.
Of course, judging by Tom Cruise's somewhat cold tone when he hung up, the audition was already dead in the water.
"You like him, don't you, Nicole?" The question caught Nicole off guard. "Don't deny it. I'm not stupid."
For the first time, Nicole felt a headache coming on from Ryan's premature maturity.
After hesitating for a moment, she still nodded. "I do feel a little something… but only a little."
"I don't like him. I really, really don't like him!"
Nicole was stunned again. In all the years they had lived together, this was the first time she had heard him express such clear dislike for anyone.
Just those words were enough for her to think she understood why he had done it. Without even thinking, she made her decision.
"Alright, Ryan. Since you don't like him, I'll try to have as little contact with him as possible."
Ryan had expected to need a long argument and a lot of effort, but Nicole had decided so quickly. It showed him exactly how important he was to her. A thousand words rose in his throat, but in the end only one sentence came out.
"Thank you, Nicole."
Nicole didn't say anything else. She simply walked over and pulled him into a tight hug. He felt her cool beauty; she felt his warmth. In that moment, it seemed the whole world had shrunk to just the woman and the boy. She was his support, and he was her everything.
"Ryan, next time you don't like something, just tell me directly, okay? Don't make me worry."
"Mhm~ Thank you, Nicole."
"It's just a shame about the opportunity." The duck that had almost been in her hand had flown away. Nicole couldn't help sighing.
"Come on, Nicole, that role wasn't right for you at all."
The not-yet-ten-year-old Ryan climbed out of her arms and struck a slightly comical "let's have a serious talk" pose. Conversations like this happened between them all the time, so Nicole didn't mind. "Ryan, I know you're smart and mature beyond your years, but do you really understand movies?"
"Who says I don't understand movies?" Ryan's nose practically pointed at the ceiling.
"Fine. Then at least tell me your reasons."
"I heard Pat describe the film's plot. The female lead is basically a decorative vase. All she has to do is show off her charm and figure — there's zero room for real acting."
Ryan paused and glanced at Nicole's stunningly beautiful face. "You know, Nicole, you're already almost too pretty. Of course that's an advantage, not a flaw. But I can easily imagine that if you took this role, everyone would label you as nothing but a pretty face. After that, trying to break out of that box would be incredibly difficult. Are you really willing to be remembered as just a vase?"
Ryan's words weren't pleasant to hear, but Nicole Kidman understood the truth in them perfectly. She desperately needed a film to open doors in Hollywood and establish herself, yet after listening to him, the first thing she thought about wasn't herself.
"Ryan, you little know-it-all… when did you start studying movies?" The moment the words left her mouth, Nicole remembered all the books about screenwriting and filmmaking he had bought back in London. Could it be…
"Does that even need studying? Don't forget — I'm a genius!"
The image of a red-haired monkey suddenly flashed through Ryan's mind, giving him the creeps. He quickly shook his head to banish the random thought.
A black Cadillac slowly pulled up in the small parking area in front of the apartment. In the back seat, a slightly overweight middle-aged man with faint Jewish features turned to the woman beside him and asked once again, "Pat, this screenplay really came from a ten-year-old kid?"
"Correction, Harvey — Ryan is only nine, not even ten yet."
They moved in the same circles and saw each other often; Pat Kingsley and Harvey Weinstein were at least casual acquaintances.
"I'm just stunned. It's unbelievable. The story involves a child, but this kind of lonely, heartfelt family drama doesn't feel like something a kid could write."
As they walked toward the apartment, Harvey Weinstein couldn't help commenting again. Pat Kingsley smiled knowingly. "Harvey, once you actually meet the boy, you won't think that anymore."
"Really?" He knew a little about Pat's situation. If she was praising the kid this highly, then maybe Ryan really was special.
"Then I'll look forward to it."
The doorbell rang. Nicole started to get up, but Ryan jumped off the sofa and dashed to the door in a few quick steps.
"Hi, Pat! You finally made it." Ryan greeted his agent first, then looked at the big man behind her. Even though the man looked slightly different from his memories, Ryan recognized him instantly.
"Hi, Ryan. And Nicole." Once they were inside the small living room, Pat Kingsley made the introductions. "This is Mr. Harvey Weinstein of Miramax Films. Harvey, these are Ryan Jenkins and Nicole Kidman."
After a few simple pleasantries, Weinstein got straight to business. "Miss Kidman, are you Ryan's legal guardian?"
"Yes." Even though she was still completely confused, Nicole nodded.
"Here's the situation. Miramax Films has decided to purchase the screenplay for The Sixth Sense…" Harvey Weinstein hadn't even finished the sentence before Nicole interrupted. "Screenplay? The Sixth Sense? What screenplay?"
The moment she asked, the atmosphere in the room turned strangely awkward. Both Nicole Kidman and Harvey Weinstein turned their eyes to Pat Kingsley at the same time, clearly waiting for an explanation.
Pat Kingsley looked at Ryan. He sat there calm as a mountain, not moving a muscle. She didn't even need to ask — the little rascal obviously hadn't told Nicole about the screenplay or today's visit. She could only explain, "Ryan gave me a screenplay he wrote. I passed it on to Miramax. After Harvey read it, he decided to buy it. I called this morning, but it seems Ryan forgot to mention it to you."
"Ryan~" Nicole looked over at him.
"Nicole, I just wanted to give you a surprise. Okay, I'm sorry."
Ryan explained everything in just a few sentences. He had written the screenplay back in London, then given it to Pat Kingsley. When she called that morning, he had deliberately kept it secret so he could surprise Nicole.
"Sweetheart, you really scared me. I knew you read a lot of screenwriting books in London, but I never imagined…" Nicole's hands moved helplessly, as if she didn't know what to say. After steadying herself, she turned to the man across from her. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Weinstein. Could I read the screenplay first?"
"Of course."
Weinstein took out the script and handed it to her. As an excellent businessman, patience in the face of profit was basic courtesy. While he waited, he quietly observed — especially the boy named Ryan.
The kid was a little thin and frail. From what he had seen earlier, his behavior could be a bit wild. But those sky-blue eyes were extraordinarily bright, flashing with maturity and intelligence far beyond his age. Maybe this meeting really would turn out to be a huge gain.
The screenplay wasn't thick — only about a hundred pages. Nicole was extremely familiar with Ryan's writing style after reading so many of his works, so she skimmed quickly. The more she read, the heavier her heart became. The lonely, helpless boy who needed care and warmth was clearly Ryan before he was seven. And the single mother… she saw her own shadow in every line.
Some of the scenes even felt like they were taken straight from the life they had shared after they met. The mother and son in the story were obviously the two of them — not blood-related, yet closer than any real family.
Why did such touching moments appear in a thriller script? Maybe it was connected to the dark memories Ryan still carried. Nicole sighed inwardly and suddenly felt that she hadn't given him enough care after all.