Under the silent night sky, Beverly Hills shone like a sleepless city, with transparent lights twinkling everywhere. Ryan sat in his room, scribbling away furiously, while a half-open window occasionally allowed a cool breeze to drift in.
Even though the November weather carried a strong chill, Ryan liked this feeling. It helped him keep his mind sharp at all times.
He wasn't writing a novel or a screenplay but a letter — a letter to Natalie.
Natalie was far away in New York. The two of them barely saw each other a few times a year. It was through frequent letters and phone calls that they maintained their deep friendship.
"Dear Nat, congratulations on winning the debate competition at school. It's a pity that even after knowing you for two full years, you've never managed to beat me in an argument. Well, this time I don't want to debate with you. Instead, I have good news to share: the fourth volume of Harry Potter was completed at the end of last month and has been sent to the publisher. If everything goes well, it should be released next year."
"I'm currently writing a brand-new screenplay — and it's about you. Want to know what it is? Haha, I'm not telling you yet! Let's just say, it's a script I prepared specially for you. I hope you won't reject it when the time comes. This story will definitely make you known to everyone in America — maybe even make you a timeless classic!"
"Ah, damn, I shouldn't have used the word 'timeless.' In the ancient eastern countries, it's a term used to describe fallen heroes. Also, I need to finalize the character designs for the script. Please mail me some recent photos of yourself..."
Ryan didn't stop writing until he had filled five pages of letter paper. He then carefully organized the letter, ready to mail it out the next day.
Just as he mentioned in the letter, back in mid-October after two months of hard work, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was finally completed. The delay was mainly because he had intermittently written several short stories during that period.
The purpose of these short stories was simple — to secure certain ideas early without giving away too much of the future plots. For example, a story about a handsome sports agent, and another about the future relationship between humans and computer networks.
In addition, he had asked Kinsley to preemptively acquire the film adaptation rights for an old TV series Mission: Impossible and several novels.
Essentially, he had taken hold of Tom Cruise's projects for the coming years. If anyone wanted to continue making those movies without purchasing rights from him, it would definitely constitute copyright infringement.
Another story about the relationship between humans and computer networks had a striking title — The Matrix!
If Nicole Kidman dressed in tight black leather and, coupled with her cold, stunning aura, performed Chinese martial arts moves like a 360-degree flying kick — what would that look like?
That idea seemed pretty good. Ryan smiled involuntarily, pulled open the drawer of his desk, and took out a $10,000 check.
The payment came from a recently published short story called The Death Symbol, about an idiot suffering from amnesia who kills his wife. Ryan had used two completely opposing narrative threads that intertwined like a tangled web, giving readers a massive headache.
Frankly, Ryan didn't even like that kind of story. He wrote it only to block certain people's paths.
Of course, this was just the beginning. More works would follow.
Projectionist is such a great and honorable job. You don't need to change careers, Ryan muttered to himself as he left the room holding the check.
He was still underage, and needed a guardian's signature to cash the check. Nicole was busy filming A Few Good Men lately and left early every morning for the studio. If he didn't find her tonight, it might be delayed for several more days.
Their rooms were quite far apart in the house. Every time he noticed this, Ryan felt a sense of irritation. It reminded him that ever since moving into this villa, he and Nicole were no longer as close as they used to be. Sometimes, he even sensed a faint estrangement.
Standing in front of Nicole's door, Ryan didn't bother knocking. He reached for the handle to walk straight in. Over the years, neither he nor Nicole ever knocked before entering each other's rooms — it was just like entering their own.
But this time, the door didn't budge! The door that was never locked... was locked!
Ryan's expression changed instantly. At this hour, without permission, maids absolutely wouldn't come up to the second floor. In the past, even when he often came looking for Nicole, she never locked her door. Now she was guarding against someone?
He had always thought that even fifty years from now, this door would still be open to him.
His eyes flickered, and the thoughts he had been suppressing surged up again. Fortunately, he had strong self-control and didn't lose it. After taking a long, deep breath, he gently knocked on the door.
"Ryan~" Nicole's voice sounded off — tense and flustered. "Wait a moment, I'm coming right away."
"Nicole, what are you doing?" Ryan frowned. It had been almost two minutes — even if she were taking a shower, she should have come by now.
"Coming."
With a creak, the door finally opened. Nicole Kidman let him in.
Inside the room, there was a strange atmosphere, different from anything Ryan had smelled before. His eyes quickly scanned over the Australian woman and found her appearance odd.
Her usually fair cheeks were flushed red, like someone who had drunk too much. She was wearing a thin cotton nightgown, sloppily thrown over her body. From the prominent points visible through the fabric, Ryan could tell she wasn't wearing any underwear.
Most notably, her gaze was evasive, avoiding any direct eye contact with him.
It was... very strange!
Both the air in the room and Nicole's behavior gave Ryan an inexplicable feeling. He didn't say anything and walked straight toward Nicole's big bed.
"R-Ryan, did you need something?" Nicole suddenly spoke.
"Need something?" Ryan was stunned for a second. Coming into her room was as normal as eating or drinking water. What was wrong with her?
Nicole quickly walked over and pulled him toward the fabric sofa, subtly using her body to block the open nightstand, and with her bare foot, quietly pushed the cabinet door shut.
But how could Ryan's sharp eyes miss it? He had already caught a glimpse inside the open drawer — it seemed to contain a photo frame and something like a cigarette pack. He shook his head, dismissing any further thoughts, and let Nicole lead him to the sofa.
"Nicole, I need your signature on this check." Ryan handed the check to her.
"You came all the way here this late just for this?" Nicole signed and handed it back to him.
"Late? It's not even ten yet." Ryan looked at her — at the woman radiating a strange aura — and said, "Nicole, you're not acting normal tonight. Did something happen?"
As he spoke, Ryan reached out to touch her forehead. But Nicole instinctively leaned back to avoid his hand.
Ryan stared at his empty hand in a daze and suddenly felt a strong sense of loss. He had finally grown up, and in her eyes, there was now a difference between a man and a woman. The feeling... was truly awful.
Once, they could share a bed and sleep snuggled together. Now, an invisible barrier had formed without them realizing. She was the most important person in his life. He didn't want any distance between them. He didn't want to ever be separated from her.
She... Ryan's hand began to tremble uncontrollably. She's mine!
The thoughts he had tried so hard to suppress surged up like a tidal wave. The carefully built defenses in his heart cracked open with a massive breach. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut tightly, forcing himself not to look at her cold and stunning face anymore. He was scared! More scared than he had ever been before! Afraid that he might impulsively say something he could never take back — or worse, do something that would offend her.
That would make it impossible for them to even remain siblings.
"Ryan, what's wrong?" Now it was Nicole's turn to feel strange. She could sense the turmoil in Ryan's emotions.
She reached out, wanting to embrace him as she used to, to pull him into her arms. But suddenly she remembered what she had been doing in the bedroom just moments ago. Her heart, which hadn't yet calmed down, trembled violently. She summoned all her strength just to retract her arm.
The cool beauty's face grew redder and redder, and her eyes showed traces of madness and confusion. She leaned against the sofa and closed her eyes lightly. Her willpower tightened around her like a steel claw, restraining her emotions.
Slowly, she opened her eyes again — but the room was empty. Ryan had already vanished, leaving her with only a bitter smile.
Maybe... maybe I should accept Jodie Foster's suggestion? Nicole shook her head. After being friends with Jodie Foster for over a year, how could she not know her secret? Especially since Jodie had half-coaxed, half-seduced her into certain "suggestions."
Being an actor looked glamorous on the surface — fame and fortune — but behind it was immense pressure. Constantly immersing oneself in other people's worlds left nerves stretched taut, desperate for a release.
Nicole Kidman's pressure was twofold. She knew there was a growing figure in her heart — and if it were ever discovered, how would he see her...
God, what should I do? she whispered, opening the nightstand.
Tinkling piano sounds suddenly filled the air. Nicole narrowed her eyes and slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke. She knew that the person most important to her was playing. But why did a joyful piece like Moonlight Sonata sound so full of sorrow?
With a heavy crash, Ryan's hands slammed onto the black-and-white keys. His chest heaved with each breath, but slowly, his mind cleared, as if all the forbidden thoughts had been expelled through the music.
What on earth is Nicole thinking? Ryan asked himself. He thought he understood her, but a woman's heart — even Confucius couldn't figure that out...
In a daze, Ryan stumbled into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and let the icy water wash over his body, extinguishing the forbidden fire within him.
Tomorrow everything will return to normal! Ryan told himself as he stepped out of the bathroom, determined not to face the fantasies lurking inside his heart.
But he didn't understand one simple truth: the harder forbidden thoughts are suppressed, the more violently they rebound.