In the end, I couldn't find a reason not to tell Scarlett everything about the Weinstein plot. So, I did.
When I finished, silence filled the room. Scarlett sat across from me, her expression frozen somewhere between disbelief and confusion. She seemed far more surprised than I had expected.
"Say something," I gently prodded.
"Let me get this straight," she began slowly, her brows furrowing. "You're trying to expose Harvey Weinstein as a sexual predator because he didn't let you win the Best Actor Oscar?"
I gave her a deadpan look. "I'm wounded that you think so lowly of me."
She shrugged, her tone even. "That's how it looks after hearing the full story. You've known about his…ways for years, haven't you? Then why act now and not before?"
I opened and closed my mouth a few times, unable to come up with a quick answer. She was right. I could have ended his dominance in Hollywood long ago, but I had chosen not to get involved in the politics of show business until now. Not until he threatened Scarlett and my family. Nonetheless, I didn't want to tell Scarlett the real reason for taking action now.
"I didn't have the kind of power I have now until last year," I said after a pause. "If I'm targeting someone powerful, I won't do it unless I'm more powerful than they are. Today, anyone in showbiz would think ten times before offending me. That wasn't the case two years ago. And honestly, I had kind of forgotten about him since we were in London most of the time."
The excuse sounded weak even to my own ears, but Scarlett seemed to buy it.
"True," she agreed softly.
She shifted in her seat, her shoulders tightening. I could tell she wasn't entirely comfortable with the subject of Weinstein, so I decided to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"I thought you'd be relieved to know that I'm not having an affair with Rose McGowan," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I know you aren't having an affair. You don't have it in you to cheat on me."
"Hey! I could cheat if I wanted to. I just choose not to," I argued, feigning offense.
She smirked. "No, you can't."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Are you trying to provoke me into cheating on you? Because I can if you really want me to."
Reaching over, I grabbed her arm and pulled her onto my lap suddenly. Leaning close, I buried my face in her hair, inhaling the sweet, familiar scent that always made me lose my train of thought.
I whispered against her ear, "Just imagine. You, me, and the mistress. We could be doing things together that you could only imagine in your wildest fantasies."
She giggled, her fingers tracing the back of my neck. "But that's not cheating if I know about it."
I grinned, giving her a playful smack on the ass. "You can think of it as cheating in your head if you're so dead set on making me do it. On the plus side, you can practice your love-making scene in [Black Swan] with another girl. There's no better way to prepare for a role than to do it for real. I won't mind sharing you with a girl. Maybe you can invite Natalie over, so you both can practice at the same time."
She slapped my shoulder. "You just want to have a threesome!"
I shrugged nonchalantly. "Only if you're fully on board with it. No pressure."
She gave me the stink eye. "For the record, I've already shot that scene with Natalie."
My eyes widened. "You did? Why didn't you tell me? I wanted to see it!"
She slapped my shoulder again, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "See it when the film comes out, you pervert."
"I'm a pervert only for you," I said with a grin. We both broke into laughter at the absurdity of the conversation, the tension from earlier completely fading.
After a few seconds, I decided to steer things back to the serious matter at hand. "So, if we're done talking about other things, can we come back to the elephant in the room? You never told me how you feel about me getting involved in this mess."
There was no need to explain which mess I was talking about.
She exhaled softly, sliding off my lap and settling beside me on the couch. Her voice was calm but thoughtful. "It's no secret that such practices are common in the industry. Harvey's reputation also precedes him. I know it shouldn't be that way, but unfortunately, it is. I love you for what you're trying to achieve, but I don't think anything will really change because of exposing one man. People will just find new ways to demand favors for roles. And it could pull you into the conversation unnecessarily. I hope you understand that not all kinds of publicity are good."
I shook my head. "I'm not doing this for publicity. Everyone involved has signed NDAs, and no one will speak about my involvement."
Scarlett sighed again before resting her head on my shoulder. The warmth of her touch grounded me. "You know I'll support you no matter what you do. I just don't want it to blow back on our lives as the Lehman Brothers fiasco did."
I gently ran my fingers through her hair, letting the strands slip through my hands. "I've taken far more precautions this time. Other than financing the project, I'm not personally involved. Until today, I didn't even know what their exact plan was or how they were going to execute it."
"Then you're doing an admirable job that makes me love you even more," Scarlett said firmly. "Just remember, if your involvement ever becomes public, I'll stand by you. Personally and publicly."
I leaned forward and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. That was what I loved about her. She stood by me through thick and thin. As I gazed into her eyes, I could see my future with her. Growing old together, raising children, building a life far away from the noise of showbiz. I wanted all of it, and more.
She pushed me away gently, smiling faintly. "What now? Are you still going on your tour in two days?"
"I am," I confirmed. "I would have loved to have you by my side, but I guess some things just can't be helped."
She nodded in agreement. "[Black Swan] will finish shooting in a week, and after that, I'll be going back to LA before the shooting of [Iron Man 2] begins."
"And you'll be coming back here after that film to work on the play you told me about, right?"
"Yes," she said with another nod. "What will you be doing after the tour?"
I sighed. "I haven't decided, if I'm honest. Evan and I plan to make a World War II movie, but he'll be shooting the last two [Twilight] films back-to-back. That could take up to a year, maybe longer once post-production begins."
Scarlett hummed thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "You could do a play as well. In fact, you could play a role in this play I'm considering."
"No," I said, shutting down her offer immediately. "I don't want our careers to overlap too much. As much as I love you, I don't want us to be around each other all day, every day, for months. A film is different. We might not always be on set together, and it ends much quicker than a play. But if we're both in the same play, it'll go on for months, maybe a full year."
She thought about it for a moment before nodding slowly. "You're right. I hadn't considered that."
I placed my hands on her hips, pulling her closer to me and smirked. "Well, consider this."
I kissed her again, fully intending to carry her to the bedroom. My arm tightened around her waist as her fingers threaded through my hair, pulling me closer.
BARK
Before things could go any further, Loki reminded us of his presence. Scarlett pulled away, her laughter bubbling out as she looked down at the husky standing just a foot away, his head tilted and his deep blue eyes locked on us as if he were judging our behavior.
"I'm telling you, you have a pervert for a dog," Scarlett said.
"He is my dog. What else did you expect?" I joked. "Ignore him. Let's go back to what we were doing."
"He needs a walk," Scarlett reminded me firmly. "Go. I need to change in the meantime."
I pouted like a kid whose candy had just been snatched away.
She laughed melodiously, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room, before standing up and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Go. If you're a good boy and take him for his walk, you'll have a surprise ready for you in the bed when you get back."
I was on my feet in an instant. "Say no more." I clapped my hands twice to get Loki's attention. "We're going for a walk on the terrace. Come on, boy."
Loki's tail wagged in excitement as he trotted toward the exit beside me.
The penthouse I had purchased in New York had been a deliberate choice, a place with roof access that I'd turned into a sprawling terrace garden. Greenery surrounded us in every direction, offering privacy and peace in the middle of Manhattan. It was the perfect retreat for Loki and me, far from the prying eyes of the city below.
Now if only he could understand the urgency of the situation and walk a little faster.
(Two months later)
"Look, Rose, I'll be honest with you," the man sitting opposite her said, steepling his fingers on the desk. "The videos you have are circumstantial at best. I've spoken to our legal department, and posting them would only make us liable for a lawsuit that we're very likely to lose."
Rose closed her eyes in frustration. She had lost count of how many times she had heard the same excuse repeated in different forms. Sometimes it was the legal department that had a problem, other times it was marketing. The worst was when a journalist had looked her straight in the eye and said she didn't believe her story at all.
"You think I'm lying, Stuart?" Rose asked bluntly, her voice sharp enough to cut through the stale office air.
"No," Stuart said quickly. "I know what people in power are capable of. So when you say you were wronged, I believe you. It's just that… you hired hookers to entice him."
"But I didn't pay them anything," Rose shot back. "Weinstein did, and only to make them sign NDAs."
"People with power and money often make the escorts they sleep with sign NDAs," Stuart replied evenly. "At best, it would look like he hired the prostitutes and then paid them off. Does that make him a cheater and a morally grey person? Yes. But as far as I recall, it's not a crime."
Rose stared at him in disbelief. "Didn't you watch the full, unedited videos I gave you?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger. "The part where the girls are saying no, over and over, but he ignores them and attacks them? And if they were really prostitutes, why did they leave before having sex? What kind of man pays a woman for not sleeping with him?"
Stuart grimaced and pushed the file back toward her. "I'm sorry, Rose. My hands are tied. If you want this story covered, the most we can offer is an opinion piece where you're the author. But it will have to be stated clearly that it's your personal account, and our publication has not verified the story. And if we get sued, you'll need to compensate us for any legal costs or settlements."
Rose stood abruptly, her disgust barely contained. "You're all the same. It's because of people like you that monsters like Weinstein still roam free. Who did he pay off here, huh? Your CEO? The editor-in-chief? Who?"
Stuart looked away, his silence louder than any denial. He couldn't even meet her eyes.
"I hope you understand that when I release this information, I'll name every news agency that refused to publish my story," Rose warned coldly. "You won't even be able to sue me, because it'll be the truth. I have recorded this entire meeting for exactly that purpose."
"Rose—"
She didn't let him finish. Turning sharply, she stormed out of the office, her heels clicking angrily against the marble floor. The fury inside her pulsed like electricity.
Troy had been right all along. He hadn't become a billionaire by being wrong.
She wanted to call him, to vent her frustration, but she couldn't. Not only had he told her to stay quiet for now, but he wasn't even in the country anymore. Every week, he was somewhere else, touring with Michael Jackson for the last few months.
The dichotomy of life struck her then. Troy was out there living the dream, performing to sold-out crowds and surrounded by luxury, while she was here, constantly looking over her shoulder, afraid of what might happen next.
Still, despite everything, Rose was grateful to him. Troy probably didn't even realize it, but he had done more for her than anyone else ever had. He had given her life a purpose.
"Ready to go, Rose?" her bodyguard and driver asked.
"Yes, Peter," she replied with a tired nod. "No luck here either."
Peter gave her a sympathetic look before starting the car. The drive back to her apartment was silent, filled only with the muted sound of traffic and the occasional honk echoing through the streets of Manhattan. Rose stared out the window, her reflection overlapping the city lights, the weight of failure pressing down on her chest.
As soon as they reached her building, she got out quickly and made a beeline for the entrance. She was far too paranoid to linger outside. Ever since she had gone to The New York Times with her story, which was the first news outlet she contacted, Weinstein had somehow found out. Within days, she noticed people following her, and some even tried to approach her until Peter casually showed them the gun holstered at his waist. He was the only reason she still dared to keep going.
Once inside her apartment, Rose locked the door and leaned against it, taking a moment to collect herself. She knew what she had to do now. It was her last resort, something she had hoped she wouldn't have to rely on. But every major outlet had turned her away. Her hands were tied.
She took out her camera and began setting it up, along with the mic and lights. It took her several minutes to get everything positioned just right. Years of working in front of cameras had taught her how to frame a shot, how to make the lighting flattering, and how to hide the fatigue beneath a few careful strokes of makeup.
Tonight, she wasn't performing for fame or art. She was performing for the truth.
This first version would only include her part, but if things unfolded the way she expected, the video would later be edited and expanded, featuring many more voices, voices like hers, long silenced.
Rose adjusted the camera one last time, took a deep breath, and pressed record.
"Hello everyone," she began, her voice steady and clear, stripped of all humor. "Today, I'm here to tell you about a grave injustice that I, and so many other women, have suffered at the hands of the film and television industry, with one man in particular standing on top of the pyramid of exploitation. I'll reveal his identity later, but for now, I want to focus on his crimes and why I was forced to make this video in the first place.
"To explain that, I need to start with myself. I came to Hollywood when I was just fifteen. I was a rebel who only wanted to make a name for herself. I didn't know then that it would become the biggest mistake of my life."
(Break)
"Hello, Chad?" I spoke clearly into my phone. "There's a video that's just been posted on YouTube by an actress named Rose McGowan. It's the only video on her channel, so it shouldn't be hard to find. I want you to make sure it stays up no matter what. Even if it's the federal government asking, that video should not come down until I say otherwise. And make sure it's pushed hard in the recommendations."
"Will do. Anything else?" came the swift response.
"Yes. The video has some sensitive information, so no one should know about this conversation," I said firmly.
"Okay. I'll handle it personally so none of our employees suspect anything."
"Thank you," I said before ending the call.
I leaned back against the balcony railing of the Tokyo penthouse, the city lights shining like stars below me, making it almost impossible to see the real ones in the sky. For a long moment, I just stood there, letting it sink in.
I had no idea what the fallout from this one move would be, but I knew it would change everything.
____________________
AN: Check out my second story, 'Swimmer to Superstar (A Hollywood SI)', which is now publicly available.
Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com