At the height of glamour, a group of tall, stunning Victoria's Secret supermodels stood together, dressed in chic bikinis or sultry dresses, exuding the elegance of swans. Their presence alone was like a beacon, drawing every man's gaze in the room.
"Ladies, listen up!" Leonardo raised his voice, grabbing their attention. "Allow me to introduce Leon Donaldson, the guy behind the movie that's been scaring the world senseless—the new genius writer and star!"
He gave Leon a gentle nudge forward. "Leon, this is Gisele Bündchen, my girlfriend."
Gisele, with her sun-kissed skin and flawless features, nodded at Leon with a confident, radiant smile, her aura commanding and self-assured.
"And this is Adriana Lima, Heidi Klum…" Leonardo went down the line.
Adriana Lima's captivating eyes sparkled with a wild, fiery intensity, instantly quickening pulses. Heidi Klum, with her girl-next-door sweetness paired with a supermodel's perfect physique, radiated a magnetic charm through her contrasting allure.
These women, titans of fashion and entertainment, had clearly heard of the red-hot Final Destination and its young creator. They greeted Leon with smiles, their eyes glinting with curiosity and intrigue—different from the calculated interest of industry bigwigs. It was a mix of admiration, probing, and a hint of playful challenge.
"So, Leon," Heidi Klum, the German model with the sweet grin, teased boldly, eyeing him up and down with a playful glint, "is it all true? Can you really predict death? Can you tell me if I'm in any danger right now?" She batted her eyes, feigning worry.
Feeling the weight of their focused gazes, Leon paused dramatically, playing along with a mock-serious tone. "From my expert observation," he said, letting the suspense build, "your greatest danger… is being drowned in cheesy pickup lines from some clueless guy here. Or," he added with a grin, "tripping over your own dazzling smile."
His witty, non-flirty response hit the mark, complimenting her while keeping it light. The models burst into delighted laughter, the mood instantly loosening up.
Adriana Lima, doubled over with giggles, leaned closer, her exotic perfume—a subtle yet bold invasion—wafting toward Leon. "I loved your movie," she said, her accented voice dripping with charm. "I was so tense I held my breath the whole time, my nails digging into my arm. You owe me for that, you know." Her eyes shimmered with a half-joking, half-serious spark.
The supermodels were clearly intrigued by this young, handsome, talented newcomer. A guy who could dream up intricate death scenes and seemingly read Death's mind was far more thrilling than the usual rich moguls or actors, especially at a party built for excitement.
Leonardo, clearly enjoying the scene, held a champagne glass in one hand and Gisele's arm in the other. He shot Leon a "you've got this" wink before sauntering off with a grin, leaving Leon alone with Adriana and Heidi.
The party's energy surged—music, laughter, and clinking glasses blending into a seductive backdrop. Alcohol, the ultimate social lubricant, flowed freely, closing the distance between them. Leon's clever banter, showcasing his talent without showing off, paired with his good looks, grew even more magnetic with each sip of champagne.
Adriana and Heidi were captivated by this unexpected star in their orbit. The buzz of alcohol heightened their adrenaline, making their glances bolder, their body language more intimate. Before long, their chat moved from standing to sinking into a plush sofa booth, the space between them shrinking. Whispers, lingering eye contact, and accidental brushes of hands or shoulders carried potent hints of attraction. The party's chaos faded into a blurry backdrop as a charged, electric chemistry simmered among the three.
Hollywood's uninhibited, lavish vibe naturally bred fleeting passion and romance. Eventually, whether by someone's suggestion or an unspoken cue, Leon, with Adriana on one arm and Heidi on the other, slipped away from the noisy pool area and into the mansion's main building.
They climbed a plush-carpeted staircase to a sprawling, opulent guest room. The door clicked shut, sealing out the clamor below. Moonlight streamed through a massive floor-to-ceiling window, replacing the frenetic party lights. What followed was intense, immersive, and private—a supermodel-fueled, Hollywood-style indulgence.
The next morning, sunlight slipped through the curtain gaps, stirring Leon awake. Beside him, Adriana and Heidi slept soundly, their stunning faces serene in the dawn's glow. He eased out of bed carefully, not waking them.
After washing up and dressing, the two models stirred. There was no awkwardness, no clinginess—the night felt like a vivid, exquisite dream, mutually understood. They smiled, each slipping Leon their private contact info with poised professionalism, their supermodel savvy shining through.
Leon made plans to catch their next runway show. Downstairs, he found Leonardo, the party's aftermath leaving the place slightly trashed. Leo, looking surprisingly fresh, was eating lunch with Tobey and a few friends.
"Hey, man! How was last night?" Leonardo called out, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
Tobey smirked, winking knowingly.
Leon just smiled, sidestepping the question. "Unbelievable party, Leo. Thanks for the invite and the hospitality."
"Haha, I knew you'd have fun!" Leonardo clapped him on the shoulder. "Next Victoria's Secret show, I've got front-row seats. You in?"
"Wouldn't miss it," Leon said with a nod.
As he said goodbye, a rare sense of ease washed over him. He realized Leonardo DiCaprio, beneath the superstar glow, was a straightforward, fun-loving guy—generous with friends and with tastes… well, remarkably aligned with Leon's. He was someone worth knowing.
Sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine, Leon glanced in the rearview mirror at the fading mansion. A thought crystallized: it was time to write that story about a genius conman. Catch Me If You Can. Leonardo as the young, sharp, yet vulnerable Frank Abagnale felt like perfect casting.
It could make a great movie—and maybe solidify this budding friendship, built on "right feet" and Victoria's Secret angels. In Hollywood, success took talent, luck, and powerful, interesting allies.