"Hey—are you The Rock? The WWF one?"
"Yeah~ I'm the WWF Rock."
"Oh my god—you're here? Nice to meet you! Oh—I think I know why you came. You don't need me to make a call, right? You're probably here to talk to Isa about work?"
"Yep, you guessed right. But Marg said no need, and when Marg says no, there's no need. My schedule's pretty open anyway."
"Well then, have a seat! I'll get you some afternoon tea. Maybe stay for dinner too, if that's convenient."
"Thanks, you're too kind. I don't mind, but you'll have to ask Marg about the details…"
The moment The Rock took off his sunglasses, the Warner Bros staff recognized him instantly.
Squeals of excitement erupted a second later.
He smiled, a little embarrassed but used to it.
The tea that appeared in front of him was basically the liquid form of human enthusiasm.
When the staff finally left, still looking back every few steps, the air itself seemed to cool down again.
Watching that long-haired egghead of a superstar nod and wave politely, little Robbie pursed her lips—
"Uncle Dwayne, looks like you weren't lying."
"What did you say?" The Rock turned toward her, curious.
"You're actually pretty famous." The girl shrugged. "Guess I was ignorant."
"Hahahaha~~"
Her deadpan honesty made The Rock burst out laughing.
But two seconds later, he put on a solemn face.
"Oh, Marg—I'm glad you can recognize your mistake."
"But—"
He paused, noticed she was listening carefully, then continued: "If you really haven't heard of me, that only means I still have to work harder."
"Because I'm clearly not famous enough."
"I haven't hit that 'three movies, two billion dollars' mark yet."
"..." His serious nonsense earned an epic eye roll from Robbie.
She looked unimpressed, which just made The Rock double down.
He pulled a face, did his signature single-eyebrow raise, then took a spoonful of dessert.
"Mmm~~ So this is Warner's afternoon tea? It's so fancy! Harry Potter really is the most spoiled crew in Hollywood…"
The Rock had landed in the UK that morning, around ten o'clock, and went straight to Leavesden Studios.
He was here for a simple reason: he'd just finished MGM's Walking Tall, and according to his contract, his next stop was Disney's The Game Plan.
Even though The Game Plan would be shot entirely in the U.S., there's an unspoken rule in the entertainment industry—Hollywood runs on hierarchy.
So, since Isabella was one of the film's producers, even in name, The Rock figured he should show his face.
But when he arrived at Leavesden, Isabella wasn't there—she was out on location.
That was a bit of a bummer, but he didn't want to seem halfhearted. If he'd come all this way, he might as well wait or go find her.
Then—surprise.
He discovered that his on-screen "daughter" was actually on set.
That made him genuinely happy.
Not only would they be working together soon, but she was also signed under Isabella's company.
So he decided to chat with her, maybe get a feel for Isabella's personality.
And that's when the fun began—
Robbie didn't recognize him.
"Marg."
"Yeah?"
"Do you really not know who I am?"
He'd already asked her this several times on the drive from Oxford.
He still couldn't believe it. "Our project was confirmed months ago, right? I even got your file from Disney back then. You really never looked at mine?"
"Uh… maybe? Or maybe not? I don't remember…"
She froze mid-bite, thinking, then shook her head.
The Rock stared at her, speechless. After a moment he tried again, "I know wrestling's not huge in Australia, but since 2000 I've made four movies."
"Two of them did pretty well at the box office."
"One's called The Mummy Returns, the other The Scorpion King. You really haven't seen them?"
"Uh… never even heard of them…" Robbie looked guilty and shook her head again.
That time she was firm.
'No, no, no.' The Rock felt something in him wilt.
He'd always thought he was a big deal—
College football champion, NCAA winner,
then WWF Intercontinental Champ,
then heavyweight champ the very next year.
That kind of rise made him a sports legend.
He was so famous they even made a special Magic: The Gathering card set about him.
That's how he got into Hollywood.
He wasn't an actor—his fame was the only reason he got The Mummy Returns and The Scorpion King.
In showbiz, talent is optional. Popularity isn't.
And yet this kid didn't even know who he was?
"Uncle Dwayne, I don't think you need to worry about that."
Seeing the big man sulking, Robbie smiled, looking rather pleased with herself.
But her tone was sincere:
"Uncle Dwayne, if you've seen my file, you know I train in circus arts."
"I've done it since I was little. It's exhausting. So whenever I get a day off, I just want to lie in bed and pretend I'm dead—it feels amazing."
"I've barely had any free time these years. When I do, I guard it like treasure. I only spend it on things I actually enjoy."
"And wrestling… action movies… honestly, not really my thing."
"Oh, I see." Her reasoning made The Rock feel better.
But now he was curious. "So what do you like? If I can ask."
"Of course you can."
She grinned. "Everyone who knows me knows I love Harry Potter."
"It's my absolute favorite story in the world!"
"And my favorite character is Hermione Granger."
"Oh—you like Isabella?" The Rock smiled.
"Yeah." Robbie nodded, still chewing her dessert. "Everybody knows that. I adore her."
"So what do you like about her?"
Since the topic had looped back to Isabella, The Rock perked up again.
Then, through Robbie's enthusiastic rambling, the image of a brilliant, mischievous, utterly perfect "Miss Beaver" emerged.
"She's super pretty, and she's so nice!"
"When we first met, she personally welcomed all of us! We were just extras, but she still treated us like equals—it shocked me."
"She didn't kick me out even though I sort of clung to her, and she even signed me later."
"She helped me land the project with you too—you probably know that."
"And she's got such a fun side! She loves teasing people on set—Daniel, Rupert, Tom… always goofing around and getting yelled at by the director."
"But they're all close friends! Except for homework—she never helps with that. But if anyone's in trouble, she's the first to step up."
By the time Robbie was done, even The Rock thought "goddess" was an understatement.
But something felt off.
This was starting to sound like fan talk.
He squinted. Robbie smirked inside.
'You think you're gonna dig dirt on Isabella from me? Dream on, big guy.'
There was no way she'd give away a single personal detail.
She was loyal to Isabella forever.
Why?
Because when you like someone that much, you just do. No reason needed.
By the time her little performance was done, night had fallen.
When the Prisoner of Azkaban crew wrapped for the day, Rupert and director Columbus came back, and dinner began.
Seeing The Rock and Robbie there was a shock. When they learned the two were waiting for Isabella, Columbus offered to call her—but The Rock waved it off.
He said he'd already waited all afternoon, what's a few more hours?
Disney's schedule was generous, and he was sure Isabella would be back soon.
"I heard she's got scenes tomorrow? Then she won't be out too late tonight."
Since he insisted, Columbus didn't argue.
Sure enough, before eight o'clock, Isabella returned with her mom and sister.
She was startled to see them waiting.
After learning what happened, she apologized to The Rock—and scolded Robbie.
"Marg! What's this about? He's a guest! You made him wait here for hours?"
Upstairs, she pulled Robbie aside.
"Rest is important," Robbie whispered. "But he came unannounced—while you were resting! If he'd told you first, fine. But he didn't."
"That means he was cutting into your rest time! You've barely rested since shooting and promoting The Voice."
"…" Isabella blinked.
Honestly? The kid had a point.
She was higher on the ladder than The Rock now, so technically it was on him to wait.
That's just how the industry worked—status came with privileges.
Still—
"Don't do that again," she warned. "You never know who's going to rise tomorrow, or when you'll fall out of favor. Unless it's a matter of principle, always handle things kindly. Okay?"
"Okay," Robbie said obediently—though her face said otherwise.
Since the whole thing wasn't a big deal, Isabella dropped it.
After a quick change of clothes, she headed to the lounge to finally meet The Rock.
After a bit of small talk, Isabella learned why The Rock had come.
First, his main purpose was to take little Robbie to the U.S. for filming.
"This was supposed to be handled by Disney, but I told them I could do it myself."
The Rock smiled at Isabella. "After all, we're playing father and daughter in the movie. If we don't get to know each other beforehand, we'll probably run into all sorts of problems on set."
He was talking about the usual child-actor complications, so Isabella nodded in agreement.
Second, his secondary purpose was to show her the final script and discuss production—since Isabella was one of the producers.
"To be honest, when I found out Marg was going to play my daughter, I was a little nervous," The Rock admitted. "She's turning thirteen soon, but the girl in The Game Plan is supposed to be nine or ten. That three-year difference could affect how the story feels."
"How about now? Still worried?" Isabella asked with a smile.
"No—" The Rock shook his head, spreading his hands with a grin. "I feel great now. Marg's adorable."
He winked at Robbie as he said it, and she played along, pretending to be cute.
Ten is a strange age in Western show business.
Most child stars debut around that time—because younger kids are too little to understand direction, and older ones, by fourteen or fifteen, already look like adults. Once a child's appearance stops being childlike, no one buys them as "the kid" anymore.
So ten is the sweet spot: still cute, but capable of following instructions.
That's when most child-centered stories are born.
Since The Rock had no issue with Robbie joining the project, Isabella accepted the final script he handed her.
She flipped through it briefly, and The Game Plan's story unfolded before her eyes.
The structure was basically the same as the synopsis she'd read earlier. The big change was tone—this version leaned hard into comedy, filled with exaggerated, absurd moments.
Take this, for example: anyone who trains seriously knows that good performance and physique depend on clean eating—no junk food, no sugary, oily stuff, and tons of protein. Otherwise, your muscles don't grow.
Of course, without certain "extra help" you'll never bulk up beyond a point—but that kind of enhancement doesn't show up in family movies.
So the film explained the hero's athletic build through discipline alone—rigorous workouts and extreme clean eating. Which means his meals were… disgusting.
In one scene, he makes breakfast for his daughter by dumping a mix of high-quality carbs, protein, and fat into a blender, pureeing it into sludge, and making her drink it all in one go. It's healthy, sure—but vile.
Naturally, the daughter wants no part of that. So she offers to "help" with breakfast next time.
Then she deliberately leaves the blender lid loose.
Then she cranks the speed up to max.
And finally—
The goo erupts like a geyser, splattering the kitchen and her stunned father.
The child is thrilled she's off the hook.
The dad is utterly confused, convinced the blender's broken.
That sudden contrast—that's the heart of formula comedy.
Isabella thought it was actually quite clever.
Because The Game Plan was, after all, a commercial film.
As long as it made people happy, that was what mattered.
After finishing her skim, finding nothing objectionable, she handed the script back.
She'd done her duty as producer. No complaints.
Just as she thought the meeting was wrapping up and she could finally rest—Robbie heading to the U.S. with The Rock tomorrow—the bald giant rubbed his hands together and smiled.
"Isabella, actually—besides picking up Marg and showing you the script, there's one more thing I wanted to discuss."
"I heard you and Disney are developing a music competition show?"
"I'm a singer too, you know. So… maybe we could collaborate?"
His blunt self-promotion made Robbie roll her eyes internally.
See? Told you this guy wasn't here just to 'drop by.'
Isabella, on the other hand, looked genuinely surprised. "Dwayne… what did you say? You're a singer?"
"Yeah~"
Seeing she really didn't know, The Rock perked up, clearly excited. "I released a song back in 2000—It Doesn't Matter."
Hollywood's a giant blender—you're famous, you can do anything.
So when The Rock branched out, he really branched out: acting, music, whatever.
It Doesn't Matter was a single he did with hip-hop legend Wyclef Jean, which hit No. 80 on Billboard's R&B/Hip-Hop chart. Pretty respectable.
Later, he even collaborated with Slick Rick on a WWF promo album in 2001—
that one reached No. 2 on Billboard's album sales chart.
Thanks to those ventures, The Rock had earned himself a North American nickname:
"The Rock King."
Rock = The Rock = well, it fit.
"Oh, Dwayne—you've really done that too?" Isabella blinked, a little embarrassed.
Even with two lifetimes' worth of knowledge, she'd had no idea The Rock had a music career.
"Of course," he laughed. Then, with surprising modesty: "Besides singing, I've hosted shows too. You know Saturday Night Live? I've hosted three times."
"So… if The Voice ever needs a host, maybe you could keep me in mind?"
That was something Isabella had never considered.
Her understanding of The Rock was limited to Fast & Furious, Black Adam, Jumanji.
As for the rest? "Dwayne, you know, I've never even been to America. I don't really know how far The Voice has come along. But if you're interested, talk to Disney—I'm sure Bob wouldn't miss out on someone with your talent."
She tossed the ball right back to Disney.
She wasn't managing The Voice anymore; she'd sold the franchise rights to them.
And she didn't have time anyway—Hermione's role in Prisoner of Azkaban kept her booked solid till at least August.
But that didn't matter to The Rock.
"Of course, I'll reach out to Disney. But I had to let you know first, didn't I?"
He winked. "It's still your project, after all."
His well-timed flattery made Isabella laugh.
Even though this was their first real conversation, she had to admit—The Rock was pretty charming.
"Okay, then. Good luck," she said, signaling the end of the chat.
But as they were saying their goodbyes, another thought struck her.
"Dwayne, from the way you talk—you've been following The Voice?"
"Of course~ It's a huge project. How could I not keep an eye on it?"
"So you know how far along they are?"
"More or less."
"So—what stage are they at?"
"They're about to go public."
"About to go public?"
"Huh? You didn't know?"
"Oh—I've been busy filming Azkaban. Haven't had time to check on anything else. All I know is I recorded a promo video for Disney, but the rest—you probably know better than I do."
"Hahaha, you really are busier than I thought. But I get it. As for The Voice…"
The Rock paused for a moment, then added, "I don't know all the details, but Disney's planning a huge launch—radio, newspapers, even cinemas. They're going all in."