Joey was scrolling through her Facebook page, soaking up all the love from fans and movie buffs who were freaking out (in a good way) about her latest moves.
" That Euro Cup promo was straight fire. Can't wait to see you in person at the opening ceremony!"
"Been a long time since an ad actually hit me in the feels. Ten-year soccer fan here and you legit had me tearing up."
"You need to do more sports movies. Whether it's The Blind Side vibes or this Euro promo, you crush it. You're not just the rom-com girl anymore. You're killing it."
"Never respected a female director before; most of 'em just churn out trashy soap-opera stuff. You're the first."
"Queen Joey!! I argued with my classmates all day today. They said you're not pretty and I was like—are y'all blind?? You're gorgeous!!"
Joey grinned as she skimmed the comments and replied to a handful of them.
One fan asked: "Joey, none of your movies have snagged any of the big Academy-type awards yet (except Source Code getting that Saturn Award). You thinking Oscar run this time?"
She just dropped a smiling emoji.
The dude totally nailed what she was already thinking. Yeah, it was time to take a real swing at the Oscars.
Winning an Oscar isn't just about making a great movie. Timing, subject matter, and the cultural moment all have to line up perfectly.
Right now? She was sitting in the sweetest spot imaginable.
Of course, you also need killer PR and the cash to play the game, but step one is making something so undeniably great that the Academy has to pay attention.
So after blowing up the soccer world, Joey basically went ghost. Not hiding out on some island; she just slipped back into the film bubble and started planning her next project. Time to get back behind the camera.
Soccer fans were losing their minds online, begging her to make another sports tearjerker (preferably about soccer) so they could keep basking in that Joey-style, goosebump-inducing passion. But that wasn't the plan.
Because it was 2008. A once-in-a-generation window. Miss it, and she'd have to wait years for another shot like this.
This particular moment in history had the exact ingredients that birth stone-cold classics.
Right now she was at Tom Cruise's place in Beverly Hills. She'd shown up unannounced, which clearly threw him for a loop, but the second he saw her, that familiar half-smirk crept onto his face (the one that said way more than words ever could).
She was there to pitch him her next film.
Yup, the Asian-led movie she'd been dreaming about was finally green-lit in her head. She'd already called Maggie Q the minute she heard Maggie's back injury was healed, ran the basic story by her, and showed her the rough outline. Maggie was 100% in.
The movie would star an Asian lead, tell the story of the Asian-American grind, the never-give-up spirit, all that positive energy; basically a love letter to the community so the rest of America could finally see them, understand them, and embrace them.
And Joey knew, deep in her bones, that if this movie dropped in 2008, it would hit different. Like, historic-level different.
In her previous life, 2008 was the year the global financial crisis body-slammed the planet. The movie business tanked too; big studios lost their shirts, theaters were half-empty, the whole country felt frozen in panic mode.
Then, out of nowhere, a tiny $15 million indie with no major stars came in and wrecked the game. Critics lost their minds, audiences showed up in droves, and it cleaned house at the Oscars and every other award show that year.
People were shocked. "Did the Academy lower their standards? Are moviegoers stupid? Why is a movie about Indian slum kids winning everything?" That movie was Slumdog Millionaire.
Years later, everyone agreed: Slumdog Millionaire was the fairy tale the world needed while the economy burned. When people are scared, broke, and hopeless, they crave a story where someone beats insane odds, stays kind, and still wins big.
It became global chicken soup for the soul.
Joey remembered exactly why Slumdog exploded the way it did. The movie was brilliant, sure, but without the financial crisis as its backdrop, it never would've become the phenomenon it was.
So she was going to do the same thing, just with an Asian-American lead and a completely original story.
Same heart though: in the middle of economic hell, one unbreakable dreamer fights for their shot and actually wins, big-time.
She was calling it Millionaire from the Block (totally different script, same emotional DNA).
And right now she was sitting in Tom Cruise's living room trying to get him on board.
Tom raised an eyebrow, flipping through her pitch deck. "You're hitting me up for money before the script's even done?"
Joey took a sip of water. "That's why I'm just talking it through with you first. Nothing's locked yet. Still figuring it out."
Tom set the papers down and slid onto the couch next to her. "Maggie Q as the lead?"
She nodded.
"And the male lead?"
Joey shrugged. "Still deciding. Which is why I'm floating the idea early. And come on, it's only fifteen million!"
Tom noticed her glass was empty, got up, refilled it, dropped a lemon slice in, and handed it back. "Let's see the finished script first."
Joey tilted her head. "At least put the word out that I'm casting. See who bites."
Tom gave a cool "Got it."
She deflated a little. She'd hoped he'd be more excited, maybe geek out with her about it. "Okay… guess I'll head out then."
He glanced over. "You're not staying for dinner?"
Honestly, she hadn't expected the invite. Things were still kinda weird between them after last time; neither of them had really addressed the kiss. Outside of shop talk, she had no idea what to say to him. "Nah, I…"
He cut her off. "Sit. Dinner's almost ready."
She fidgeted. "I really should—"
Tom frowned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Am I that scary? What are you so afraid of?"
That got under her skin. He's the one who kissed her and then acted like nothing happened! "I'm not scared. You're just kinda… cold lately. I've been waiting for you to explain yourself."
The air shifted. Tom stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him. He leaned in, his breath warm against her neck, sending little shivers down her spine.
He murmured, low and deliberate, "Grant… are you really clueless, or are you just playing dumb with me?"
Her breath caught. That feeling; familiar, electric, but she couldn't place why. "W-what?"
His lips hovered near her skin. "You really don't know what it means when a man kisses a woman?"
She tried to keep it together. "There are a lot of possible meanings. Depends which one you meant."
"Which one?" His fingertip traced the line of her throat, brushing her earlobe. "The one where I like you. The one where I want you."
His fingers lingered at the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Happy with that explanation?"
In that moment, about a million thoughts crashed through Joey's head all at once.