Dunn strolled hand-in-hand with Sayuri Johansson down Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. Too bad it was Thanksgiving—the usual buzz was gone, leaving the street quiet.
Perfect for some alone time, though.
"There are two guys following us," Sayuri whispered, sounding a little nervous.
Dunn chuckled. "Those are my bodyguards."
Sayuri stuck out her tongue, relieved.
"By the way, I heard your sister… calls you Ingrid?"
"Oh, that's my middle name. I'm Sayuri Ingrid Johansson."
Dunn grinned. "Sayuri and Ingrid—sounds like your mom had acting in mind for you from day one!"
"Sayuri" was straight out of Gone with the Wind, Vivien Leigh's iconic role, while "Ingrid" screamed Hollywood royalty—Ingrid Bergman, the First Lady of the silver screen.
Sayuri smirked, giggling. "I started auditioning for commercials when I was tiny. Back then, though, the grown-ups liked my brother Hunter more. But once Mom sent me to acting classes, he couldn't keep up!"
Dunn nodded. "Hunter… I've chatted with him a bit. Great kid, just not cut out for acting."
"Huh? Why not?"
"He's too tall! He's 17 and already my height—probably still got three or four inches to go. Handsome guy, but that height? Tough to find roles that fit."
"Oh." Sayuri's face fell, her mood dipping. "But he still wants to act."
Dunn shook his head. "Why force it? He's sharp as a tack—switch gears, and he could have a killer future."
"Him?" Sayuri pouted. "He's a mess sometimes. But… his grades are solid. He could totally get into a top school."
Dunn smiled faintly.
Hunter Johansson often popped up alongside Sayuri in his past life—became a political and business hotshot, even advising a U.S. president's campaign. A 17-year-old in his rebel phase doing dumb stuff? Totally normal.
"Let him focus on school and finish his degree. If he needs a boost after college, I can help out."
"Really?"
Sayuri's emerald-green eyes lit up, practically sparkling.
Dunn brushed a hand through her bronze-blonde hair. A gust of cold wind whipped by, and she shivered. "It's freezing!"
"Wanna head back?"
"Maybe… let's walk a bit more?"
She wasn't sure what "back" meant or where he'd take her, and it made her a little jittery.
Dunn spread his arms, grinning. "It's getting windy—wanna huddle up for warmth?"
Sayuri looked up with a shy smile and eased into his embrace. "So… what's your plan with me?"
Dunn hugged her curvy frame, feeling her softness even through layers of clothes. It stirred him up a bit. "What about you? Got any big dreams?"
"I wanna be a star—like Natsuki Portman! I'd get my sister tons of new clothes, make sure my brother can study without worrying about tuition—oh, and buy him a Maserati, he's obsessed! If there's extra, I'd send some to Mom. She's got a new family in New York now."
It spilled out fast, like she'd been mulling it over forever.
Dunn kept his poker face, but inside, he sighed.
In his past life, Sayuri and Natsuki were tight—besties for a while.
Sayuri was up for V for Vendetta but bailed for The Island instead. She'd done a ton of artsy films and wanted a commercial hit, so she took the gig and tossed Natsuki's name to the Vendetta director. That's how Natsuki nailed that iconic role.
Later, Natsuki landed The Other Boleyn Girl. The book was hot, and a dual-female-lead British drama screamed awards bait.
The studio locked Natsuki in first—she was the biggest 80s-born actress around. She pushed hard for Sayuri, flat-out refusing to sign on unless Sayuri played her sister.
Everyone thought these two 80s leading ladies would clash, but they killed it together.
At the premiere, paparazzi even caught them locking lips.
Too bad the director sucked—a great story turned into a dud. Still, Natsuki and Sayuri were the film's shining stars.
Then Black Swan came along and cooled things off.
The director, Darren Aronofsky, was Natsuki's old Harvard buddy. He'd spent a decade crafting that script just for her. She was the lead but basically co-produced it too.
For the supporting role, Natsuki picked another ballet-trained friend, Mila Kunis.
Sayuri, after years of indie films with zero Oscar nods, was desperate for a breakout. When Natsuki went with Mila for such a juicy part, Sayuri wasn't happy.
Their friendship went from warm to frosty after that.
Dunn let out a quiet sigh.
"You know her?"
"Who?"
"Natsuki."
Sayuri pouted. "She's a huge star—Queen Amidala. I'm just a nobody. How would I ever meet her?"
Dunn laughed. "I'll introduce you someday."
"Oh."
Sayuri's vibe dimmed. Natsuki was his girlfriend, and that felt… weird to her.
Dunn caught the look on her face and leaned in close. "What about you? Wanna be my girlfriend?"
"Huh?" Sayuri froze, like she'd been zapped, jerking her head up. "Me… me?"
Dunn smirked. "C'mon, my place?"
"Now?"
"Wind's picking up—you'll catch a cold."
"But…"
Sayuri bit her lip, flustered.
Dunn kissed her cheek. "Let's go. I like you a lot."
She tilted her head up at him. "Would I really be your girlfriend?"
Dunn laughed loud. "Depends on how you play it!"
---
The next day, Dunn was humming a pop song from his past life, buzzing with energy as he rode his private car to work.
Then Sofia Coppola called.
Dunn teased, "Sofia, calling me this early—what's the order of the day?"
"Ooh, someone's chipper!"
"Heh, not bad, yeah."
"Guess last night went well?"
A smug grin crept onto Dunn's face. "You're not wrong. Sayuri… she's a gem. Total jackpot—I hit the big time!"
Sofia scoffed. "I'm so done with your creepy little fetish!"
Dunn shrugged. "You wouldn't get it! Anyway, Sayuri's mine now. Look out for her, okay? Especially on set—no funny business with those male actors."
Sofia snapped. "What?! Dunn, you're ridiculous! My Lost in Translation is a romance—how's there not gonna be contact?"
Dunn said coolly, "I don't care. She's my girl now—no other guy touches her. Swap her out if you have to."
"Dunn, you jerk! I've got the storyboards done, tailored to her, and you want me to recast? Keep this up, and we're done!"
Dunn frowned. "I told you—she can do it, but there's a catch!"
"What about the intimate scenes?"
"Use a stand-in!"
"Easy for you to say—where am I supposed to find one?"
Dunn acted like it was obvious. "Cast a wide net! Get a few backups. Any future scenes like that, just use doubles."
Sofia gritted her teeth. "You're unbelievable! Fine, but you're coughing up an extra $2 million for the budget!"
"Haha, deal! Sofia, we're pals—we've gotta help each other out, right?" Dunn grinned cheekily. "I'll handle the budget, but you keep an eye on her on set. What's mine is mine—no one else gets a piece!"
"Got it! Dunn, your shamelessness just hit a new level!"
"Thanks for the compliment."
"Get lost, you ass!"
Sofia hung up with a huff, but then smirked to herself, shaking her head in triumph. She pumped her fist. "Yes! Another $2 million in the bag!"
The production team had only greenlit Lost in Translation for $4 million total.
She'd just doubled it!