Billy saw his image splashed across the newspapers. He checked the internet—every line, every article, every post showed his face. This was what it meant to be at the center of the media world. And when people liked that, truly liked it, everything else faded away. With the day off granted by Michael Bay, they simply ordered breakfast in bed. The black screen from before, the pose from Casablanca, still lingered in the air. He looked at the tousled-haired blonde—she lived and breathed cinema. Deep inside, she had an uncommon thirst for acting. Perhaps she didn't have the raw talent of others, but she was definitely obsessed with becoming a great actress.
–Let's go to the pool, darling. –Billy said, hugging Scarlett, who was still recovering from a long night, her young body still full of energy and ready for fun—even if they failed.
–No, let's watch movies all day. –Scarlett replied. –I want to see classic horror films.–
–I'd like to watch all The Godfather movies. –Billy added. She widened her eyes, and it was hilarious how she smacked him on the chest.
–You haven't seen them!?–
–Only the first one.–
–Oh my God, nobody has taught you anything, my love... we urgently need to buy them all. And besides... you've already seen Scarface, The Untouchables, and Goodfellas… now we just have to binge-watch until tomorrow. –said the blonde, her bright green eyes sparkling as they locked gazes. There was no distance between them—this intimacy, this sharing, was everything to Scarlett. She loved being let into his world, into his life. This was first love: pure in its intentions, never retaliating, only accepting—even the silly little things. Even when others hide in arguments or in false pretenses, he couldn't hide—not when he spoke about himself. He shared so much, even in the subtlest ways.
–I'll do it, but I want you to cook for me. –Billy said, holding her close.
–We're in a hotel.–
–You said it!–
–In New York, I'll make you a three-course meal. –she replied, gently brushing her hair, a gesture that signaled to Billy that this was likely a turning point. This was more than a fling—this was a real bond between them.
–Yes, you can buy me movies. I want all of The Godfather series, and I also want The Untouchables and Goodfellas. –Billy replied, grateful as they ordered a tray of fruit and cream pasta, since he needed to eat. They decided to hit the pool after watching the movies. By midday, maybe halfway through the second film, they might take a break and continue with the remaining four. But he already felt the urge to go shopping a little more.
–Do that scene. –Scarlett said.
–You want me to imitate it? –Billy asked.
–You learn by watching and imitating. I want you to be Michael Corleone. Try not to crumble under the weight of watching an actor like that. –Scarlett said, writing down lines on a sheet of paper, repeating the scene, showing him how precise a single moment could be. She even shared some analytical notes—simple yet complex in how they could shift a character's state, even testing his ability to resist laughing when someone tried to make him break.
Twelve days had passed since Thanksgiving. They were filming multiple scenes, nearly done with the initial sequences with the two Lincolns. Scarlett's scenes were starting to take shape, but now came a romantic moment.
The intimacy coordinator approached Billy.
–Scarlett has no issue with doing a love scene with you. She said clearly that it didn't matter, as long as you're comfortable too. –said Erika, one of the women hired by DreamWorks to oversee private scenes between leads.
–I'm fine with it. –The young man answered, well aware they'd toned down the scene to a single invitation, done for two reasons: to keep the film suitable for all audiences, and because the script itself didn't go beyond a few kisses.
–You understand what it means to be filmed partially nude? –Erika asked.
–Are we doing that? I don't think so. Just a bit of exposed skin. Not much to talk about. –Billy replied again as Erika jotted down every concern on the back of a form that Billy would sign. Once signed and approved, there would be no issues regarding the scene, ever since the problem DreamWorks had back in 2002 that got them in legal trouble.
Billy brushed his teeth before heading out. He sucked on a lollipop while Scarlett, in the distance, wore a crisp white shirt and light jeans that hugged her curves. She looked effortlessly attractive, while he had artificial bruises painted on and his face slightly dirtied, with fake blood on his shirt.
–Do you feel like doing a nude scene? –Scarlett joked, laughing, so youthful and teasing. –The bra's bothering me, and the director says we shouldn't film it that way since it's technically a kids' movie.–
–Then what are we waiting for? Let's make it Rated R. –he joked, earning a smack on the chest.
–Don't say indecent things.–
Scene 98, Take 1
Billy entered, his expression haunted by a desperate need for closure. He was burdened, nearly dead, paralyzed with fear after confronting his original self: jealous, insane, arrogant, vain—a man full of himself, his behavior toxic and cruel. Even after trying to cleanse his soul, the bullets that had narrowly missed his body gave him a new kind of clarity.
He stumbled through the door and saw Scarlett standing there. In contrast to him, she was radiant under the lights, her dry makeup giving her that captivating look. Her eyes were accentuated with delicate lashes.
Billy's deep voice echoed across the set. The silence shattered into dust. It was a performance quirk he'd held onto for a while—singing through his emotions.
🎵🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶
Come on, skinny love, just last the year
Pour a little salt, we were never here
My my my, my my my, my my
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer
I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
My my my, my my my, my my
Right in this moment, this order's tall
🎵🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶
The crew watched from multiple monitors. Having 50 people watch you undress and kiss someone can be uncomfortable in ways that are not exactly pleasant. Sure, the idea of kissing a famous model or a heartthrob might seem sexy—like they unlock something with their perfect angles. But it's not. The truth lies somewhere entirely different.
Their kisses were deep, calm, and full of longing.
–Cut.–
The team scrambled to adjust the set, swapping in a bed, simulating a balcony overlooking the ocean. But beyond the window was just concrete. A fan gave the illusion of a seaside breeze behind the curtains.
Billy's song resumed, softer now, playing for the second time to bridge the next part of the scene.
🎵🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶
And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind
And in the morning, I'll be with you
But it will be a different kind
And I'm holding all the tickets
And you'll be owning all the fines
🎵🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶
They took off their shirts, a subtle vibration on the right signaling the next take. Covered by a sheet, they fell gently into place. One move—and if one of them had found it grotesque or uncomfortable, they would've jumped. But when trust is the rule, none of that exists. It becomes something honest and instinctual.
For Billy, women were beautiful flowers. None had ever rejected him—not a single one under 20. But that didn't matter.
What mattered was this golden opportunity—the reason he took care of his body, his hygiene, health, looks, and fashion…
...