AN: Uploading little early. So, don't forget the powerstones. It's getting harder and harder to compete with those TL ffs.
---
[Scarlett's Apartment]
Scarlett stood before her closet, arms crossed, biting her lower lip.
'It's just dinner. Friendly dinner. Nothing special.'
So why was she acting like a nervous wreck?
She huffed, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she scanned her options. She had already rejected five outfits... too casual, too formal, too trying too hard. She needed something just right.
As much as she told herself it was just two friends grabbing food, she couldn't ignore the little flutter in her stomach.
Alex Wilson wasn't just anyone.
He was Alex Wilson.
A Hollywood powerhouse. A guy who, at just twenty-five or twenty-six, was already running an empire. Writer, director, producer, and his name carried weight. And here she was, a nineteen-year-old actress, fresh on the scene, barely starting her career.
'I'm overthinking... Probably?'
They had spent a lot of time together on Lost in Translation, and yeah, they got along. He was easy to talk to, and, if she was being honest, really good at what he did. And, okay, maybe there was some flirting. But that was just his personality, right?
She sighed and grabbed a simple but expensive black dress. It wasn't too much, just enough to look nice without screaming I spent an hour picking this.
She slipped into it, checking herself in the mirror. 'Not bad.'
A few minutes later...
Scarlett had just finished adjusting her dress when and was about to put on the perfume.
BAM!
The bedroom door swung open so violently that it nearly flew off the hinges. A girl entered the room, looked at the scene, and yelled...
"OH MY GOD, ARE YOU GOING ON A DATE?!"
Scarlett jumped up and nearly dropped her perfume bottle. "Jesus, Vanessa! Ever heard of knocking?!"
Vanessa Johansson, older sister, professional chaos agent, and designated life-ruiner, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a wicked smirk plastered on her face.
"I did knock," Vanessa said innocently. "With my foot. Now, answer the question. Who's the guy?"
Scarlett groaned, rubbing her temples. "It's not a date."
Vanessa gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Oh my God. You hesitated. That was a hesitation! Who is he?!"
Scarlett turned away, pretending to check her hair in the mirror. "It's just dinner."
Vanessa narrowed her eyes. "Just dinner, huh?" She scanned her little sister up and down, taking in the new black dress, the subtle makeup, and the extra attention to detail.
Scarlett fought the urge to squirm. Vanessa knew her too well.
Vanessa grinned like a shark smelling blood. "You're dressing up for him."
Scarlett groaned. "I dress up normally..."
"Bullshit." Vanessa strolled in, flopping onto Scarlett's bed with a smug look. "You wear sweats half the time, and when you do dress up, it's for press events. So who is he?"
Scarlett sighed, knowing her sister wasn't going to drop it. "…Alex."
Vanessa's eyes widened. "Alex Wilson?!"
Scarlett gave her a look. "Do I know any other Alex?"
Vanessa shot up, sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Scarlett! Are you serious?!" She stared at her little sister like she had just confessed to dating an alien. Then, slowly, her lips curled into the smuggest, most insufferable grin imaginable.
"Oh. My. God."
Scarlett groaned, already regretting everything. "Vanessa, don't."
Vanessa ignored her completely, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin on her hands like a gossip-hungry high schooler. "So, let me get this straight. You're going to dinner… with Alex Wilson?"
Scarlett folded her arms, trying to look unimpressed. "Yes. So?"
Vanessa let out a high-pitched squeal and kicked her legs. "Oh my God, ScarJo bagging a Hollywood power player at nineteen?! You are LIVING the dream!"
Scarlett threw a pillow at her. "It's not like that!"
Vanessa, undeterred, caught the pillow and hugged it. "Oh, please. You're dressing up. You're nervous. You hesitated when I asked if it was a date. Babe, you like him."
Scarlett scoffed. "I do not!"
Vanessa wiggled her eyebrows. "Then why are you blushing?"
Scarlett's mouth opened—then shut. She quickly turned back to the mirror, pretending to check her eyeliner. "I'm not blushing. Stop annoying me. Get out of my room, please."
Vanessa smirked. "Mmm-hmm. Sure you're not. Just like you totally didn't look at him like a lovesick puppy on set."
Scarlett froze for half a second. "I did not..."
She let out a long, suffering sigh as Vanessa waggled her eyebrows, absolutely basking in the chaos she was causing.
"This is a golden opportunity, Scar," Vanessa declared as she jumped down from the bed and began walking around the room like she was delivering a TED Talk on snagging a billionaire filmmaker. "Alex Wilson... He's young, ridiculously rich, insanely talented, and let's be honest, kind of stupidly hot. You seen that smile, of course you have. And his eyes... oh..."
Scarlett groaned. "Oh my God, stop."
Vanessa ignored her completely. "And you two already have chemistry. I mean, come on, you spent a month working together. Long hours, intense scenes, late-night conversations. I bet he definitely sees you as more than just some actress."
Scarlett folded her arms. "He's worked with plenty of actresses. I'm not special."
Vanessa snorted. "Oh, please. You don't think he noticed you? Scar, you're a nineteen-year-old knockout with actual talent. The dude's a director. Directors always notice their leads."
Scarlett sighed. "It's just dinner."
Vanessa grinned like a shark. "Oh? Then why are you dressing up?"
Scarlett hesitated. "I... It's just being polite."
Vanessa arched an eyebrow. "Riiight. That's why you have so many dresses lying around the room."
Scarlett glared. "Do you have a point, or are you just here to make my life miserable?"
Vanessa smirked. "Both. But mainly, I'm here to make sure you don't go on this dinner date..."
"It's not a date."
"...looking like you're going to jury duty."
Scarlett huffed. "What's wrong with my dress?"
Vanessa glared at her. "It screams casual brunch with a co-star." She moved forward and tossed Scarlett's hair over her shoulder. "What you need is something that says, I'm a rising Hollywood icon and if you don't grab me now, you're a damn fool."
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Okay, now you're being dramatic."
Vanessa didn't even deign to answer that. She just spun round on her heel and fled from the room.
"Where are you going?!" Scarlett shouted after her.
"Getting you something worthy of a dinner with a hot guy!" Vanessa's voice rang from down the hall.
Scarlett sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Why am I letting this happen?"
A minute later, Vanessa returned, holding three different dresses draped over her arm.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes. "Vanessa, no."
Vanessa grinned. "Scarlett, yes."
She tossed the first dress onto the bed. It was a deep red, curve-hugging number with a slit that definitely wasn't safe for a "friendly dinner."
Scarlett immediately shook her head. "Too much."
Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Fine." She threw the second dress onto the bed. It was a silky emerald-green dress with a plunging neckline.
Scarlett glared. "Too revealing."
Vanessa groaned. "Scarlett, he's already seen you in your undies during the shooting, remember? You blurted out last night? Slip of tongue?" She winked. "Pretty sure a little cleavage won't kill him."
Scarlett shot her a look.
Vanessa sighed dramatically, then held up the final dress. "Okay, okay, this one's perfect."
Scarlett hesitated, looking at the dress. It was a midnight-blue dress with a fitted waist, elegant but effortless. Sexy without being obvious.
…It was actually perfect.
Vanessa smirked, already knowing she'd won. "Try it on."
Scarlett sighed but grabbed the dress and headed for the bathroom. "If I look ridiculous, I'm blaming you."
Vanessa flopped onto the bed with a smug grin. "Oh, babe, when he sees you in that? You won't be looking ridiculous. You'll be looking like his next obsession."
Scarlett's face burned. "You are so annoying."
Vanessa cackled. "And yet, I'm always right."
Scarlett shut the bathroom door behind her.
She had barely slipped into the midnight-blue dress when...
Vanessa's muffled voice rang from outside the bathroom door.
"By the way, if things don't work out between you and Alex, I'm totally shooting my shot."
Scarlett nearly tripped over her own feet. "WHAT?!"
"I'm just saying!" Vanessa called out, laughing. "If you blow this, I will swoop in. No hesitation."
Scarlett opened the bathroom door. She narrowed her eyes. "You cannot be serious."
Vanessa lounged on the bed, completely unbothered. "What? The guy is stupidly rich, stupidly gifted, and have you looked at him?" She waved her hand dramatically in front of her face. "Sweetheart, if you're not gonna grab your opportunity, somebody else will. And I, for one, am an equal opportunity believer."
Scarlett glared. "You are insane."
Vanessa smirked, eyeing her up and down. "And you look hot. Alex is gonna lose his damn mind."
Scarlett folded her arms, trying to look unimpressed despite the pink on her cheeks. "It's just dinner."
Vanessa gasped dramatically. "It's just dinner," she mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "You are so in denial, it's painful."
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "You're the worst."
Vanessa grinned. "And yet, if this whole Alex thing doesn't work out, you'll have me to thank for making sure he stays in the family."
Scarlett threw a pillow at her. "GET OUT."
Vanessa cackled, dodging it as she stood up. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you to your not-date with Hollywood's most eligible bachelor."
She waltzed toward the door, stopping just long enough to toss one last parting shot over her shoulder.
"But seriously, if you don't lock this down… I will."
Scarlett grabbed the nearest object, a hairbrush, and launched it.
Vanessa ducked, laughing all the way out the door.
Scarlett exhaled sharply, pressing her hands against the bathroom counter.
'It's just dinner. Just dinner. No pressure.'
…Then why the hell was she nervous?
She took one last look in the mirror, straightened her dress, and just then...
Her phone buzzed.
Alex: Outside. Take your time.
Her stomach did a little flip. 'He's already here.'
She peeked out the window, pushing the curtain aside just enough to see. And there it was. An Aston Martin parked right in front of her building.
And then there was Alex.
Leaning casually against the hood of his car, hands in his pockets, looking completely at ease. He wasn't dressed like a businessman tonight... no suit, no tie. Just a fitted black button-up, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, paired with black jeans and polished shoes. Simple, but effortlessly sharp.
Scarlett swallowed. 'Okay. He looks good. Really good.'
"Is he here yet?"
Scarlett jumped at Vanessa's voice behind her. She turned, glaring. "Jesus, Vanessa! Personal space?!"
Vanessa ignored her, already peeking out the window. Her eyebrows shot up. "Holy hell."
Scarlett crossed her arms. "What?"
Vanessa turned to her, dead serious. "You're so screwed."
Scarlett frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Vanessa pointed dramatically at the window. "Look at him! Look at that car! Look at that whole vibe! That's not a 'just dinner' man. That's a 'I'm about to ruin your life in the best way possible' man."
Scarlett rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. "It's not like that."
Vanessa smirked. "Mmm-hmm. Sure. And I'm a nun."
Scarlett checked her reflection in the mirror one last time, adjusting the neckline of her midnight-blue dress. Okay, maybe Vanessa had a point. She was overthinking this. But Alex… Alex was hard to read. He was friendly, flirty, and way too smooth for his own good.
She sighed. 'Screw it.'
Grabbing her purse, she turned to Vanessa. "Wish me luck."
Vanessa beamed. "You don't need luck, babe. You need self-control."
Scarlett groaned. "Bye, Vanessa."
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She winked.
Scarlett shot her sister one last glare before heading out the door.
...
[Outside]
The moment she stepped out of the building, she felt his eyes on her.
Alex had been glancing at his phone, but as soon as he looked up, he went still. His expression remained unreadable, but his gaze? His gaze lingered.
Scarlett suddenly felt hyper-aware of everything—the way her dress hugged her figure, the way the cool night air brushed against her bare skin.
His lips quirked into a smirk. "Not bad, Johansson."
She raised an eyebrow, forcing herself to sound unimpressed. "That supposed to be a compliment?"
Alex chuckled, pushing off the car and walking toward her. "Observation." He let his gaze flicker down her dress for a split second before locking eyes with her again. "But if you want a compliment… you look stunning." His eyes went toward the window because someone was peeking from there... Well, it was Vanessa, giving him two thumbs up.
Scarlett hated how warm that made her feel. She rolled her eyes, playing it cool. "Flattery already? We haven't even gotten to the restaurant yet."
Alex grinned, opening the car door for her. "Not flattery, but the truth."
She slid into the passenger seat. He shut the door, rounding the front before settling into the driver's seat. He started the engine.
"So," he said, shifting into gear, "hungry?"
Scarlett glanced at him, her lips curving slightly. "Starving."
With a smirk, Alex accelerated down the street, the city lights reflecting off the hood of his Aston Martin.
This was going to be interesting.
-[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS PLS]----
Support link: www.patr eon.com/UnknownMaster
[7 advance chs] + [4 chs of Two and a Half Men] [All chs available for all tiers]
------