Page 85 of The Road to You
31
LENA
Ihaven’t moved from this spot in over two hours.
My legs are curled beneath me on the hotel bed, the duvet slightly twisted, and my laptop is warm on my thighs. A cappuccino has long gone cold on the nightstand, untouched since the first ten pages.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the screen. The words, the scenes, the dialogue, they hit me like electricity. This script isalive. It wraps itself around me, the way all good stories do when you forget you’re just reading lines and startlivingthem. The character is raw, wounded, complicated. She is someone who has everything on the outside but nothing holding her up inside. She’s spiraling. She’s haunting. She’s unforgettable.
By page thirty, I already know how I’d play her.
By page fifty, I canfeelher in my blood.
This isn’t just a movie. This isthe one.
I close the script and lean back on the pillows, breathless. My heart is pounding like I just sprinted for miles. I stare at the ceiling, smiling like a lunatic, clutching the laptop as if I can absorb the script and make it mine.
This could change everything. Not just a comeback, but abreakthrough. The kind of role they write about inVariety. The kind that gets whispered about during awards season. The kind that earns you respect in a town that forgets women like me by the time they turn thirty.
Alain Faure directing it changes everything for a completely different reason. I won’t be Preston Livestone’s girlfriend anymore. I will be Lena Sinclair, the actress who played the lead role for one of the best directors of our time. Yes, Preston is a great director; he gave me the chance to shine in so many roles, and I will give him that. But they were always talked about like couples’ projects, with our names intertwined. I couldn’t fully shine on my own. With this movie, I have the chance to prove myself again and leave my past behind, including the part that ties me to Preston.
I blink fast while a slow breath melts the tightness. This could make them remember me even when I’m old, like the great names in Hollywood history, legends who stay in people’s memories for a long, long time.
I grab my phone without thinking. My fingers move faster than my thoughts, dialing Vivian’s number.
She answers before the first ring is over. “Tell me everything.”
“Iloveit,” I blurt, still half laughing. “Vivian, Iloveit so much I want to call the director right now and tell him yes before I even see the damn contract.”
She exhales with a pleased tone in her voice. “I had a feeling. He’s serious, Lena. He’s not shopping this around. He wantsyou.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I say, standing now, pacing the soft carpet of the hotel room. “It’s everything I didn’t know I was waiting for. The story, the tension, the way it sits in your chest. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed feeling like this.”
And it’s true. While I loved playing the roles in my previous movies, I always felt like something was missing. They were good movies. I’m not complaining about them or even regretting them, but they weren’t special. At least, not anything that makes my heart pound in anticipation.
Vivian doesn’t speak right away. I hear her typing, and she is probably already sending follow-up emails. “Then let’s do it. I’ll tell him you’re interested and get the studio on a timeline. I’ll make sure the contract reflects the kind of performance this will demand. We’ll negotiate hard, Lena, but this is yours if you want it.”
“I want it,” I whisper, stopping by the window.
As soon as those words leave my lips, I can feel the rush of adrenaline pumping in my veins. I shiver, feeling the excitement grow inside my chest, making my heart beat erratically.
Rome sprawls outside in front of me, drenched in sun and marble and afternoon light. I press my hand to the glass, feeling the city alive even from behind it. I’ve never believed in fate, at least not like something that guides your life without you having a say in it, but this feels a lot like fate. It’s the butterfly effect where all the pieces fall perfectly into place. Even the heartbreak of Preston cheating is a long-ago memory that doesn’t feel real anymore.
“I want it so bad I can taste it,” I confess.
I hear Vivian chuckle slightly on the phone. I can imagine her leaning forward in her office chair, smiling, and typing away on her laptop, as if she already knew I would accept it. And maybe she did. She has been with me for so many years, she knows exactly what I like and what I don’t, and this is the movie we’ve patiently waited for.
“All right, then,” Vivian says. “Let me go move mountains.”
The call ends, and I let the phone drop to the bed. I rest my forehead against the window, the smile still spreading across myface. For a second, I let it all sink in. I bask in the silence, the possibility, thecertaintythat this encounter brought into my life.
Then I step back, walk to the small balcony, and push open the doors. The sun hits me like applause—warm, full, and vast as the sky. I close my eyes and laugh softly, the kind of laugh that comes from your chest when youknowsomething is about to change.
I feel like I’m right where I’m meant to be.
32
LENA
